It’s been nine days since I watched my father take his last breath. The one thing I’ve heard almost as much as I’m sorry is that it will get easier with time. But that’s not the case, at least not yet. It’s just been getting harder.
It’s 4:03 a.m. as I lay in bed typing this. I haven’t slept in over a week and don’t feel it coming anytime soon. Maybe this is normal. Maybe this is processing. Whatever it is, it just sucks. What are those five stages of grief? I can never remember how they go, but I’m pretty sure I have them out of order. I started with acceptance. I had so long to consider the possibility that my Dad would lose his battle, that finally accepting it felt so easy. Though I’m realizing now that once I accepted it, everything happened so fast and I never really processed it. Looks like acceptance will be coming back around again.
Denial and Isolation. This is the first stage, and I’m guessing a lot of family and friends may think I’ve been at this stage for some time, but I haven’t and probably never will be. I’m just not a public crier, I prefer to cry alone, on my time, when I can truly process the feelings weeping from my eyes and get through them in my own way, rather than because someone in front of me is telling me how.
I’m starting to feel anger creep in for the first time. I’ve done pretty good focusing on all the amazing years we had as a family, feeling lucky for having 32 good years with my dad rather than 75 mediocre ones, but now I’m angry that he is gone.
I don’t think I ever did any bargaining, though I have found myself looking up and asking my Dad to take the pain away.
I need a kleenex. I had so much more to say but lost it somewhere on the way to the bathroom. It makes me sad to think that so many of you reading this right now can relate. It’s not fair. Which may be the single most popular phrase in the world, but it’s true.
I’ve been internally debating about taking this into religion, but that and politics are two things I purposely try to avoid here, and I just don’t have the strength right now to delve that deep.
Am I going somewhere with all of this? No. We all work through things in our own way. I type, and it helps. I also buy shoes and eat peanut butter, but we won’t go there.
I promise my blog won’t be this depressing forever. I have this huge void in my soul but I have so much to fill it with. I will be back again, back to the person who smiles as much as my Dad did, the person he raised and the person he loved with all his heart and soul. Without even knowing it, he gave me the strength to get through this, so I damn well better.