Grief is a funny thing. Sometimes it just jumps up at you in the middle of the night and won’t let go.
I’m having a hard time with my Dad’s death lately. It’s not regret. I know I did everything I could do for my Dad. I know he knew how much I loved him and cared for him and worried about him. And I knew how much he loved me back. I think that is what is tough for many people when their love ones pass. I was lucky to have such an understanding, loving father. And I guess I’m lucky not to be feeling regrets.
I just miss him is all. It’s really that simple. I tried to explain this to my husband tonight but he reminded me of all the times we went to see him in the last couple of years and we would drive an hour and half only to find him sleeping peacefully. Neither one of us had the heart to wake him, so we would just watch him sleep for awhile and then just turn around and go home. But I remember the visits much more clearer when we had actual conversations. Well, let me rephrase that… I had actual conversations sometimes with myself and he listened and after a time would respond with one of those little pearls of wisdom …well don’t worry, she’ll grow up soon or everything will be alright. I guess I just loved to hear his comforting words albeit short and sweet. I would kiss him on the forehead and tell him to be good for the nurses and then I would slide home. I never left there feeling empty inside and always happy he was still with us.
I was so in awe of his character. How could someone with a feeding tube, dialysis three times a week and completely bedridden want to go on and live his life to the fullest? When I went to see him he gave me strength to carry on. NOTHING I could face in my day to day life could be as bad as what he chose to endure..nothing. And no bitterness. There was no sitting on the pity pot for Jimmy. He faced everything so bravely. I always told him, Dad this disease can take everything from you but you still have your mind. For the most part, he was pretty with it all the way to the end.
I just miss him. I get up in the middle of the night and wrap that warm blanket he had on his bed around me and I can almost feel him. I guess I was so busy in the beginning with the funeral and settling his estate, I didn’t have the time to really get it. I get it now. He’s gone.
Little things trigger an emotion…like giving Amber, our cat, her insulin shot. Just like Dad. Riding the expressway and seeing the exit for Hammonton. The smell of the brim of his hat. I can still smell his scent. Sitting eating a piece of toast and having Kodi, our pup, beg for a drop like he did with Dad. And although I know the hospice people mean well, I really wish they would stop sending me things in the mail. I know it’s meant to help reading about the stages of grief but I’m living them right now and no amount of words on paper are helping.
Of course it’s the holidays now, and I think about what I’d be doing for him to prepare for Christmas. He had me every year buy gifts for the great grand babies that he was so proud of. I sincerely miss doing that for him too. I guess I miss doing for him period. Of course there are plenty of people in my life I can do for and enjoy taking care of them. He just was always my special man in my life, who needed me and appreciated my help so much. He never missed the opportunity to say “I don’t know what I’d do without you”. I just miss hearing that from him. I just miss him period.
I’m sure with time things will get easier but right now with every waking moment and sometimes in my dreams I still feel his love. A good thing for sure. And I know he’s in a better place with Mom. I just hope that cloud is big enough for the two of them!
Peace to you.