This Christmas build up continued to remind me of my recent loss. We have yet to bury my Dad and my head knows that he no longer had the quality of life he was hoping to enjoy. So why can’t I face his quick demise as a Blessing? I know those words come out of my mouth every time I have been asked and speak to his passing.
I’m the eternal optimist. When my husband and I have chatted we could quickly tick off all the blights that we faced this year. I had drafted, but never had a chance to post the blog about my husband getting hit by a car. He was riding to work and was thrown 15 feet. You know a phone ringing at 6:30 a.m. is never good news — however — he miraculously emerged without a broken bone or any lasting damage. Both kids have gone through “rest periods” ordered by the orthopedic doctor. Our son rebounded after a summer free of running and we assume our daughter will heal and return to her weekly dance class and begin Soccer in March.
All of our blights turned out to be minor. So why does my Father’s death plague me so? I wonder when I will stop crying … will I make it through the funeral he wanted to be a Life Celebration without puddling in front of everyone?
Every day brings me new resolve, new hope and a renewed sense of awe when I realize how many blessings in this life I’ve been given. Merry Christmas it was. Graced.
We lost my mom in October after losing my dad the October before (2012). Mom had Christmas with us last year and it was lovely until she fell over a hassock when we were cleaning up on Dec. 28th and broke her arm in two places- an incredibly painful and debilitating injury. My siblings teased me that I “broke” Mom, and while I know it wasn’t my fault, I still felt very guilty. She came back from the break amazingly well, but her COPD became more and more debilitating and she struggled with dehydration. We finally got all the balls in the air and she had 2 or 3 good weeks until she began to have awful pains in her side which moved around to her back and front. Scans showed she was suddenly riddled with cancer (after a number of clear CT scans during hospitalizations for dehydration) and things went rapidly downhill from there. We managed to keep her at home with hospice help and spent as much time with her as we could, but it was intensely bittersweet. She once said ” I’ve never not had a future before.” I didn’t know what to say. Although we talked openly about everything and kept her as pain and anxiety free as we could -it was terrible to see her struggle.
Unlike my sisters, I am not a crier-instead I have had a year of terrible shoulder and neck pain, which has now, magically, disappeared. I will always miss my parents. I still think of things I want to tell them and reach for the phone now and again, but I am so relieved they’re not suffering anymore. My dad’s confusion and my mother’s pain will live in my memory, but will hopefully take a back seat to all the good memories over time. At least that’s my hope.
My hope is the memories will eclipse the guilt and the sadness. Thank you for sharing your story. I have never been a crier so this whole situation has taken me by surprise. My ophthalmologist told me my tear ducts were congested in September — I’m pretty sure they are free and clear now. ; >