Tuesday, February 13, 2018

33 days? That does not seem possible. It feels to me as if it was merely two weeks ago. Time does fly... Crap!

My dad had ups and downs for a full year. At about a month or two out he became forgetful. He went out one day and didn't close the front door. One month he completely forgot to pay his bills (very unlike him). Some days he felt great and other days just down in the dumps. What to me was the most interesting in his grieving process was when he told me about 14 months after mom died was this: "Everybody tells you about how hard the first year is. They never tell you how hard the 2nd year is because they don't stay for that." Pretty profound. I'm glad he told me that.

At the two year mark after DD died I thought I should be "better" because of comments like that, but I think that was the point when I was finally "thawing" so I felt some things harder/in a different way. My neighbor who lost her son a couple of years afterwards had the same experience.

In other words, grieving takes time and we do it in our own way. Their is no "getting over it", just learning to live with it.

I think you're right. I don't have much experience except my grandparents, my mom, some friends who died of AIDS when I was younger (including my first beau). I think with grandparents and parents we expect it and it is the natural order of things.

When you lose a child, the order is incorrect. It goes against anthropology and biological instinct. I don't think it's even comparable. My vocal coach and mentor lost her son to a heart attack. She never recovered and I never expected her to. The loss was too great. I think she just went on as best she could.

I saw what losing my mom did to my dad. The grieving period was intense and at times tumultuous. My parents did not have a fantastically loving and devoted relationship, but there was a love and comfort that kept them together, even though they sort of functioned independently. I can't imagine what it might be like for a spouse to lose a true life partner - one with whom you feel such connection that you become one part of a single life that is shared.

I went back to work 3 months after DD died so that I had something to keep busy with. I cried on the way to and from work every day for a while, but I functioned well at work. One foot in front of the other and letting go when needed worked ultimately for me.

Being an unmarried only child with no kids, my parents were really all I had. When my mom died my emotions were all over the map. Some good days after a while, some bad, some good ones that decended into bad when someone would bring it up and I'd get dragged back into the sadness. And I'd be resentful for being dragged back into it, then feel guilty for being resentful. I think the hardest bit was not being on the same cycle as my Dad when he wanted to have a "sad conversation" about her. Often that would happen on one of my good days. And vice versa for him. There's no fixing that, you just have to be there for each other and take the hit when they need you to. Mornings were always bad because of that moment when you wake up and at first all is well and then in a split second I would remember that something terrible happened and life was never going to be like it was before.

The worst was forgetting it was the first anniversary of her death. I was having a good day and just plain forgot. So much guilt. And then there was all the guilt for feeling some relief that by dying she wasn't suffering anymore.

Ugh. Just know whatever you are doing or feeling or not doing or not feeling is right for you in that moment. There are no rules. You just do what you need to do to get through.

Thanks to each of you who've contributed your observations and experiences about losing those you loved deeply. It's extremely helpful to be able to have others hold up a mirror to my experiences. I keep wanting to benchmark my "progress" against others. Not feeling competitive, just feeling at sea.

Today was a "good" day. Some peace, some smiles, some tears, self-care, sunshine, and a crossword with fika. And my 18-year-old niece came over between classes to visit and to bring her mother's Valentine's care package. BTW, it's very hard to feel sad with an 18-year-old around. Their concerns do NOT include anything remotely resembling death.

So today I received not one, but two Valentines -- one from my college roommate and one from a sister who also sent a pot of red tulips and a DVD of the 1970 film, "Love Story." Before receiving her pot of tulips I had already bought myself 18 red tulips at the grocery store this morning (the very definition of self care, eh?). BTW, you young whippersnappers (Cecily and Shel and maybe others), if you haven't seen "Love Story," it's a movie in which a young Ali MacGraw dies, but not before telling Ryan O'Neal that "Love means never having to say you're sorry." I just looked that quote up on Wikipedia, and learned that it's the 13th most highly rated movie quote in AFI's 100 years of movies.

So now you know that.

And you're welcome. :)

Love Story was one of my mom's favorites! I've seen it many times. She had the book too and the pages had tear wrinkles on the pages . She loved a tearjerker.

I wish I had words of wisdom about grieving but I do not. Family attachments were not that strong. I have lost my dad and my oldest brother. I left home at 16 mainly because I feel in love and my brother only came around when he wanted me to work on his house for free. I do not really know of any books. In nursing school a required read was a book about death and dying by kubler ross. I can't remember reading it but I may have gotten the outline somewhere. It deals with the process of grief too. I know I would totally lost without my wife. 33 days or 3333 days. We do not even like to be apart when I am working on our house and she is in the woods.

Thank you, David.

Pair bonding -- that's what TV nature shows call the relationship between animals that mate for life. When we watched those shows, my husband and I would smile and say that's us.

And yes, a lot of oxytocin is involved. But it feels sacred.

Well, I had one of those too busy back to work days - School, then a grooming client (who ran late), then to pick up Auntie Kathryn from the surgery center after her out patient procedure, then to the pharmacy to get her meds and pads for bleeding (vaginal surgery - bladder sling - OUCH!), got her home, got her dogs settled and went to pick upu dinner for Ron and me. Got home at 9:00 pm with a healthy dinner in tow (broiled/baked chicken thighs and salad) to find dogs were not yet fed, no housework had been done, nada, nyet, nothing.... But the TV was on.

As they say in Soul Shoppe (school program), I emptied my balloon on Ron. I got snippy and irritable. I was irked that he hadn't taken it upon himself to feed the dogs. Yet, I told him, "Well, I didn't ask you to, so I guess that's on me." Then while I fed the younger dogs, he moved the remaining bowls on the counter. OCD me has the bowls arranged exactly so, which means I always know which bowl goes to which dog. I got overly upset because I no longer knew which bowl went to which dog. He says to me, "Which bowl had the fork in it?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? The fork is in your hand. You just took it out of the bowl."

"Seriously, I don't remember."
"You mean you don't know which bowl you just took the fork from?"

"Well, Yes, this one." I put the fork in the bowl. "I though you meant what bowl position had the fork in it?"

"Why would I ask that? Why don't you understand a simple question?"

"Just tell me which *** G bowl was in back of the other!"

You kind of get the picture. Domestic bliss at its less than finest moment. Probably a combo of me emptying my balloon/purging my stress and him being defensive (cuz I think he realized he maybe could have helped out a little last night...).

I bring this up because I noticed the first thing I did when I had finished feeding the dogs and he left the kitchen was to throw open the fridge and look at what I could stuff in my mouth. I quickly pretended to be only getting dinner items for salad out. Really? Next thing I did was open the freezer. I knew we had ice cream in there. Got a spoon and consoled my poor self with a ginormous spoonful. The entire time I'm doing this I am having a dialogue with myself about what I'm doing. I'm okay with the conversation because from that self conversation the mantra "Leave and breathe" has come. So, next time I get upset and feel the need to stuff food down my gullet, I am going to repeat "Leave and Breathe". I will find a place to sit and focus on breathing until I can examine my feelings. Oh, please let me follow through. (Of course, I say this with a Puerto Rican accent reminiscent of, "...Oh, please, let it not be true.... oh, please, let it not be true..." from West Side Story after Bernardo's death. Sort of lessens the impact of the plea in my mind. See, I'm truiy bizarre.)

Diane S. - actor to portray me. I suppose the ideal would have been Marlon Brando since our physical appearance changed in the same way. However, I have been told over the years that I have resembled the following people throughout my life: Christopher Plummer, Bruce Willis, and Robert Downey, Jr. I'd be fine with anyone of those. Though I'd rather be a Gary Grant, Rock Hudson, Brad Pitt kind of guy. But, hell, if I get to order, Jamie Dornan is probably the guy who is closest to my idea of physical perfection...LOL