expanding grief
My father died 5 days ago.
A couple people have asked me, Is it the way you thought it was going to be?
In other words, Is my father’s death hitting me the way I thought it would?
(I really do recommend you listen to this one!)
The short answer is no.
I thought it would be the worst the first day.
But, it didn’t turn out that way.
My grief has actually expanded every day since.
The Saddest Words Ever Spoken
In the first hours I heard the saddest words I’ve ever heard in my life.
“I’ll see you again someday, Hon” my mother said to my dad, between sobs.
“Thank you for a wonderful 60 years”.
I can barely let myself think of those words.
It’s still too much.
The next couple days I was kind of blank, maybe you could call it numb.
Maybe, you could call it avoidance.
I didn’t let myself think about it too much.
There was too much to do anyway.
Cleaning His Room
We should go clean out his room this weekend, I told my mom.
They’re moving the furniture on Monday, and they need everything off the furniture.
I wanted to get it done. Get it done fast.
I went to get the moving dolly from the front lobby of the assisted living center.
I wanted to throw everything onto the dolly just as it was and leave.
Then, I got annoyed at my mother for taking so long.
I said, Let’s take this whole bathroom cart full of his toiletries back to your room, mom.
Then you can sort through the stuff you want to keep and throw away the stuff you don’t want.
She didn’t listen.
Maybe she was in a trance. Maybe she was numb too.
She took an hour to clean that bathroom cart, in my dad’s room.
Carefully looking at each toothpaste tube, mouthwash, shaving razor.
Wiping it off, and putting it into its own plastic bag for safe keeping.
I don’t want to do this. My husband has to die first, I thought.
I don’t want to be worrying about what to do with his used toothbrush.
Contacting The People
Next came the list of people to contact.
The previous week we had made the list.
There were 93 people on that list.
Why so many people?
Do you really need to let that many people know you died? I complained in my mind.
We had made the list for both my mother and father.
This is ridiculous.
I don’t want to let 93 people know about this, twice.
It’s too much.
I’m going to make a list of 5 people for my children to notify.
In the end it wasn’t too much.
I finished the list with a new thought.
My parents are loved by so many people.
How did they get so many people to love them?
I don’t have that many people.
Maybe I need more.
My Uncle
Yesterday we met with my mom’s brother, my uncle and auntie.
They’re in their mid-80’s
5 years older than my mother and 4 years older than my father.
What if I never see these people again?
This is terrible.
They’re also going to be dead soon.
Everyone from my past is going to be dead soon.
My mom told me, I can’t live without my brothers.
I wouldn’t worry about that, I countered.
They’re in much better shape than you are.
You’re right, she said. Good.
My Mother
I worry about my mother dying. My grief has expanded to my mother.
I never actually knew which one would go first.
Up until the last day, up until the last hours, I still thought my mother could go first.
She told me many times, I’m just going to live until your dad doesn’t know us.
When his dementia gets worse and he doesn’t know us that’s enough.
I can make it that long.
My mom has severe health problems of her own.
But, my father tricked her and knew us until the last few days.
I mentioned that in my last episode, Less Than 4 Weeks Left.
You should listen to it if you haven’t. It’s a tear jerker.
Grieving Hawaii
Once my mother is gone, there will be no reason for me to come back to Hawaii.
I’m grieving Hawaii too.
I’ve been here just about every year of my life.
And, I’ve practically lived here for the last 5 years.
Growing up I spent every summer at my grandparent’s home.
Then, my 3 children spent every summer here at their grandparent’s home.
I’ll miss you, Hawaii.
I’ll miss all the people I’ve loved here.
Even though I often complained about coming.
The mosquitos, the humidity, the loud relatives.
I thought it was too much at the time.
It wasn’t too much. It was my life.
And, it’s been the best life anyone could have asked for.
Gotta get going.
Get ready to go to the mortuary now.
Rest in peace, dad.
I love you.
In the grief journey,
xoxo Lani
