Faith shaken not stirred

It's been two weeks since my dad had a heart attack. Mind you, he had more than one that day but not the point. And I'm angry and confused.
My dad was a great man. He helped everyone. So many stories have come out of him going out of his way to help others, and it doesn't even surprise me. He was Christlike. He loved going to temples with my mom. They wanted to go to as many as they could. He LOVED building temples for the church. He supervised the building of the Vernal Ut temple. I remember going to his house there in the summer or on breaks and finding grasshoppers. Seeing the dinosaur park and eating at what he called a "hole in the wall" cafe. I honestly looked for a hole in the wall when we ate there. My dad decided this last year that instead of retiring he would accept his dream job of supervising the historical restoration of the Salt Lake temple. He went to temple sessions with those involved. He would wake up before the butt crack of dawn and head into Salt Lake.
He  was also trying his best to live a healthier life. He went to the doctor for an ekg a month before and they told him he had a lung infection. He bought an exercise bike for indoors. In good weather he was always biking around anyways. He ordered chicken instead of a hamburger when he went to Red Robin with my sister.
And yet....
He had a heart attack he couldn't wake up from.
He was responsive when he went into the ER, but the heart attack in the cath lab...was too damaging.
I yelled at him to wake up. I pleaded with him to stay for my kids. To stay for me.
But he wasn't there. I knew it when his eyes would open but they weren't looking.
I'm so angry.
What good are ekgs? What good are prayers, fasting and living correctly if you can't get a Holy Ghost to prompt you to go to the doctor one more time?! If anyone had soo much good karma to finally be owed a miracle it'd be my dad.
Instead I see an old guy with a beard smoking in the parking lot of the hospital every time I left it holding his IVs and draped in hospital gowns. Why does he get to live?!
I find my dads patriarchal blessing and it says if you honor your parents you'll live a long life. Bullshit. He honored and would help his mom every time she needed it, not to mention his love for his dad.
I couldn't even bring myself to go to my grandmas funeral which was the same day as my dads but earlier because I'm soo mad that she got to live longer. For as long as I can remember she only wanted to die. She would give us things and say, here I won't be here next month how about you have it. Or she would call my dad up to give her an end of life blessing, she even woke up in the middle of the night the night before she died and said, "I'm still alive?!" Seriously.
She just sat on her couch. Ugh... she was a wonderfully nice woman and grandma, and normally I'd be sad or resigned to the fact that she's gone... but today, I'm just pissed at her.
The last time I hugged my dad was Parker's birthday. It's not fair.
He just had to wake up... even just for a little bit. But no, he was ripped from us and we went through limbo hell.
I know I can't change anything but I'm so mad.
What good are prayers from apostles if nothing worked?

So yeah... That's where I'm at currently. I'm angry and confused. I cry every night. The world keeps going crazier and I'm like cool let's just ride this thing with our hands up now and no seat belts on because does it even matter anymore?! During the day, I feel like a zombie with my kids. I'm trying. I have to act happy with them because ignorance is bliss on their part and they really don't get it. I am getting a lot of distraction with a garden I'm attempting. The person I'd ask for advice for is gone so we'll see how things work out. Gosh I miss him. Parker saw a video of him with Emerly and started to stick out his tongue at him. They would do that forever on FaceTime. Freaking FaceTime... can't save or retrieve those videos.

On the plus side... because again, I am trying... people are wonderful people still. So thank you to anyone who is still being nice to me because I know I'm kind of a stick in the mud. I don't know how to move on from this, I don't know how to regain any faith from this. My dad was my rock. I know bad things happen to good people blah blah blah... but whatever.