"Just feel it Nancy, don't hold back the tears". Really? I am all set. I get it. I'm not new at this! I'm almost 5 weeks into it so don't tell me how to feel. I cry day and night. There's no "holding back" going on over here, thanks though.
I replay those images over and over again in my mind. Steve's voice on the phone; "Dad died". The feel of the carpet against my sobbing face .... the screaming, the way my throat felt raw. The trying to focus on packing the car to drive to Philly... and then being hit with it all over again. The look and sounds of my siblings weeping with me. My step-mother who can't even speak through her bloodshot eyes. The image of my grandmother who just shakes her head through her tears. The fact that this man, this GIANT, isn't in the room with us ... it's empty without him. I'm sitting in his chair, I'm flitting around in his kitchen - HIS kitchen. The one that no one was even allowed to hang in while he was cooking. His bathroom.... towels still damp from that morning's shower. His toothbrush still wet. How can it be that this man was here just HOURS ago and now he's never coming back? I can't take it. His dog won't even get up off her bed to greet us. Nothing is right in this house, it's all wrong. It's too quiet. People are afraid to speak. The kids are confused and scared. They run to my side and hug me around the middle every time I start to cry. It's not even a cry, it's a sob.... short of breath, losing my voice. My face is so puffy, I'm unable to even see straight. The burning in my eyes is constant. The immeasurable pain is relentless.
I don't even know where to begin. I'm in it. I can't rewind. I can't fast-forward. I only have where today takes me and I never know where that's going to be. Five weeks ago today I was only concerned about what I was going to wear to the ornament party that night.... five weeks ago tomorrow, everything in my life would change. Every, every everything.
The part that's most startling is how angry I feel. I didn't know about a "five stages of grief" or even 2 stages of grief. Grief is grief. It's like "being sad". Right? Wrong. Why am I angry? I wish I knew, maybe I'll know more when I'm finished typing this......
Some of you know, a lot of you don't. My dad died very suddenly. He had been sick... flu-like, possibly even pneumonia for a couple of weeks around Thanksgiving. He was very busy with work (and extremely stubborn) and waited a long time to go to the doctors for antibiotics.... despite the contact urging of his family, he just didn't go. Friday night he went to the docs for a chest x-ray where they saw something ... shadowlike? He was urged to go to the ER for a CT scan to further reveal the reason behind him not being able to breathe normally. He decided instead to go home. The next morning he got up, showered and shaved and let his wife drive him to the ER. (of COURSE he showered and shaved... that's what he did). I won't get into the details of the ER visit but he didn't make it to the CT scan, he died of a pulmonary embolism upon entering the xray room. I do know that the staff a the hospital fought hard for a full 70 minutes before stopping and for that, I am grateful. I also want to believe that dad went instantly - the exact way he would have wanted it. This strong man, this giant, my insanely tough father would NOT have wanted it any other way. I'm ok with that. I'm just not ok that it happened now. WTF.
So, this anger. This irritability. This frustration and impatience and intolerance for people and their stupid "1st world problems". It's ugly, feels terrible and is always, always followed by some kind of nagging guilt.
I'm trying hard to focus on positive things. My dad didn't suffer ... not for long anyway. He spent his last night at home with his wife. He was able to enjoy the incredible news that Stephen and Cheryl are expecting twins and that one of them is a boy and will carry on his name..... he was very emotional about that. The outpouring of love from family and friends has been amazing. He touched so many lives with his work and his help and his humor....It was always his mission to find you what you needed..... an appliance, a winter coat, a missing piece of hardware. I always thought it was just for family.... turns out he had a ton of fans out there who thought he was as great as we did...
If I had a job in an office or even out of this house, I might not be able to deal with the pain like I can here at home. I have this amazingly beautiful, sweet baby to take care of and he lets me cry. He lets me talk on the phone to a friend when I need it. He lets me lay down & rest with him once in a while as he naps. He makes me laugh and distracts me and doesn't judge me when I look like crap. He brings me joy and I am so grateful. Does everything really happen for a reason? Not sure but SO grateful that my job this year is as a "nanny" and not a "teacher" or something else where I am not sure I'd be able to perform.
***never finished this post**** will be starting a new one today..
I replay those images over and over again in my mind. Steve's voice on the phone; "Dad died". The feel of the carpet against my sobbing face .... the screaming, the way my throat felt raw. The trying to focus on packing the car to drive to Philly... and then being hit with it all over again. The look and sounds of my siblings weeping with me. My step-mother who can't even speak through her bloodshot eyes. The image of my grandmother who just shakes her head through her tears. The fact that this man, this GIANT, isn't in the room with us ... it's empty without him. I'm sitting in his chair, I'm flitting around in his kitchen - HIS kitchen. The one that no one was even allowed to hang in while he was cooking. His bathroom.... towels still damp from that morning's shower. His toothbrush still wet. How can it be that this man was here just HOURS ago and now he's never coming back? I can't take it. His dog won't even get up off her bed to greet us. Nothing is right in this house, it's all wrong. It's too quiet. People are afraid to speak. The kids are confused and scared. They run to my side and hug me around the middle every time I start to cry. It's not even a cry, it's a sob.... short of breath, losing my voice. My face is so puffy, I'm unable to even see straight. The burning in my eyes is constant. The immeasurable pain is relentless.
I don't even know where to begin. I'm in it. I can't rewind. I can't fast-forward. I only have where today takes me and I never know where that's going to be. Five weeks ago today I was only concerned about what I was going to wear to the ornament party that night.... five weeks ago tomorrow, everything in my life would change. Every, every everything.
The part that's most startling is how angry I feel. I didn't know about a "five stages of grief" or even 2 stages of grief. Grief is grief. It's like "being sad". Right? Wrong. Why am I angry? I wish I knew, maybe I'll know more when I'm finished typing this......
Some of you know, a lot of you don't. My dad died very suddenly. He had been sick... flu-like, possibly even pneumonia for a couple of weeks around Thanksgiving. He was very busy with work (and extremely stubborn) and waited a long time to go to the doctors for antibiotics.... despite the contact urging of his family, he just didn't go. Friday night he went to the docs for a chest x-ray where they saw something ... shadowlike? He was urged to go to the ER for a CT scan to further reveal the reason behind him not being able to breathe normally. He decided instead to go home. The next morning he got up, showered and shaved and let his wife drive him to the ER. (of COURSE he showered and shaved... that's what he did). I won't get into the details of the ER visit but he didn't make it to the CT scan, he died of a pulmonary embolism upon entering the xray room. I do know that the staff a the hospital fought hard for a full 70 minutes before stopping and for that, I am grateful. I also want to believe that dad went instantly - the exact way he would have wanted it. This strong man, this giant, my insanely tough father would NOT have wanted it any other way. I'm ok with that. I'm just not ok that it happened now. WTF.
So, this anger. This irritability. This frustration and impatience and intolerance for people and their stupid "1st world problems". It's ugly, feels terrible and is always, always followed by some kind of nagging guilt.
I'm trying hard to focus on positive things. My dad didn't suffer ... not for long anyway. He spent his last night at home with his wife. He was able to enjoy the incredible news that Stephen and Cheryl are expecting twins and that one of them is a boy and will carry on his name..... he was very emotional about that. The outpouring of love from family and friends has been amazing. He touched so many lives with his work and his help and his humor....It was always his mission to find you what you needed..... an appliance, a winter coat, a missing piece of hardware. I always thought it was just for family.... turns out he had a ton of fans out there who thought he was as great as we did...
If I had a job in an office or even out of this house, I might not be able to deal with the pain like I can here at home. I have this amazingly beautiful, sweet baby to take care of and he lets me cry. He lets me talk on the phone to a friend when I need it. He lets me lay down & rest with him once in a while as he naps. He makes me laugh and distracts me and doesn't judge me when I look like crap. He brings me joy and I am so grateful. Does everything really happen for a reason? Not sure but SO grateful that my job this year is as a "nanny" and not a "teacher" or something else where I am not sure I'd be able to perform.
***never finished this post**** will be starting a new one today..
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