"If I leave you it doesn't mean I love you any less, keep me in your heart for a while." Warron Zevon
I was unsure of what direction I wanted this writing to go in--should it be my opinions, detailed life, down to the last name and quote, or should I keep it more about the general feelings and struggle? I think I'll chose the later. I don't want to offend anyone. I would like other people to see this and read about the struggle that is very real of a recovering care-taker who is still grieving and lost.
I don't even know where to begin. I'll cut and past parts of some previous posts so that this is cohesive and make some sense, flowing more in order then not....but I am by no means a writer. I don't go to school for it, I'm not formal, the most I know is some grammar...and thats pushing it. Mostly its just ideas and feelings and opinions all jumbled into a few paragraphs. So maybe along the way I'll make progress towards being a better writer. I know when I go back to school that's a given--lots of writing...and it will have to be better or I'm not going to pass :)
OK. Onward.
At this point, my grief is really having a way with me. Mostly just during downtime--this occurs when I'm sitting at home waiting to go to work. Or when I'm off, driving around town, running errands, going through boxes of stuff since we just moved. Today it must have happened no less than 10 times. Once or twice a few tears came, but I'm moved on and kept doing the task at hand. I even stopped at Pamplona to check on it. Let me tell you, seeing the house you grew up in very empty and just alone is saddening. It used to be filled with tons and tons of stuff. And now, its empty. Bob and Ruth's house is officially empty. I want to sell it, and move on...keep on moving seems to be the only way I can handle this situation. The more time I have to think about it makes it worse.
With this all being said, there is the component of missing my Mom and Dad and how different it is with each of them. There are similarities. I feel so f-ing cheated with my Mom because she suffered so greatly with something she didn't ask for and was cheated out of at good solid 4 years or more of her life that she could have enjoyed more. My dad was sick, he had accomplished a lot in his life. He knew that the smoking is what did it to him, and he said that on numerous occasions, and he made peace with that part. My mom couldn't make peace with a f-ing thing, unless she did it in her own mind; I know she had no memory and her brain changed, but I think she had time to think about it while she was getting to the end.
There is a family component to all of this that has been a roller coaster at least for me. I'll leave it at that.
We had my Dad's burial service on his birthday, 10/30. Ann and Andrea attended and visited for a few days. The service was beautiful. I recorded all of it. I read a poem at the burial site, played music. We were pleasantly surprised that my Mom's stone had come in and was there. My dad is just to the left of her. I need to get out there and visit more, but lately it hasn't been in the cards lately. Soon I'll be there more often. Flowers, decorations and all those good things.
The sadness for me comes from not only just not being able to talk to them in the flesh, ask them questions, physically touch them, but the fact their life is over. There's nothing left. I HOPE they are in Heaven, I hope they are watching down on us. I pray they are because without that, then....I just don't understand this crazy world. Where would you go? Your spirit that is. Why wouldn't it be something magical, watching your loved ones from Heaven? Thats what I'm hoping otherwise what in the hell do I have to look forward to???
I keep flashing back to the day of my Mom's funeral. There are more things I wish I could have been able to say when I had my chance. I have these memories of it, holding Aunt Susie's hand and singing silently "Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What A Wonderful World" with her. I will always cherish that, and Travis was with me on the other side holding my hand. I smiled as a sung, because I knew she would be smiling.
With my dad, I sang silently along to "Landslide" by Stevie Knicks/Fleetwood Mac. I picked it because it was something I had heard when I was about 14 or 15 and it became popular off of their live album, and also by the Smashing Pumpkins and it just reminded me of him. I think we had been having some squabbles at the time, you know, a hormonal teenager growing up. I remember walking Duncan on the bike path and listening to it thinking, someday, I'd play this at his funeral. I remember after all those years.
I know that I am ultimately responsible for taking care of myself after this as far as therapy goes, so I'm going to try to get on that more. I have an appt with my Gilcrest therapist on 11/25 so I'm gearing up with what to talk about and questions to ask. I'm trying to journal here and there (on paper) and see if that helps. More of the personal things, stuff I wouldn't put on here because it isn't appropriate.
If I had to say one year ago today that I'd be in this position, I wouldn't know what to say. I figured I'd be at home on Pamplona with the routine of taking care of my Dad.
If I had to say this was my sole calling in life then so be it, at least i made a difference in my parent's lives and I can rest easier knowing that they were loved and cherished by all of us kids above and beyond.
Love you Daddy, Love you Mommy. Happy belated 85th Daddy! Happy Belated Veteran's Day! Semper Fi!