Staying afloat

I haven’t managed to write anything in a few days. Not because I don’t have anything to say. I do. In fact I am overwhelmed with emotion and things that I want to talk about but don’t know how.

It’s been 2 months. And things are supposed to be getting better. But I feel just as lost and angry today, if not more, than I did back in October. It’s just that now- people expect you to be back to yourself. They aren’t anticipating that you are on the verge of breaking down when they ask an impersonal and uninterested question like “how was your weekend”. I feel like no one wants to hear the real answer anymore. I can see it in their eyes. —- Ok fine it stinks that you lost your dad- but it’s time to move on and get with the program, and oh by the way, can you tell me about patient X-Y-Z.—

It just makes me want to scream.

I get it that life goes on. It has to. Even in our house we are moving on and doing the next thing on persistently our over-scheduled calendar. With three demanding and growing children you have no choice. Nor would I want to hold them back at all or prevent them from enjoying this time of year. But in many ways I feel as if I am just going through the motions right now. Maybe some time soon when I rotate off clinical service and get my life back I can share my collection of fall/winter pictures for the various activities and milestones with the kids. In the mean time- here is a quick photo of Kinley @6 months with a face full of carrots.

I feel like I am putting so much expectation on that golden time when I will get “off service” – I truly hope that it turns out to be everything I think it will be.

Being “Thankful”

I have always loved all of the holidays. I’m not sure if Thanksgiving is my favorite- but it’s definitely up there. Last year’s Thanksgiving was a bitter sweet time as my family gathered together to celebrate the life of my 91 year old grandmother (Bonmother) who passed away 5 days before the holiday. And while we were all clearly saddened by her loss, we could certainly appreciate that she had enjoyed a wonderful, full life and moving on from this world was in many ways a blessing for her.

But this year, it’s just not so clear.

I just feel cheated.

My dad was supposed to make the smoked turkey and gravy (which I wouldn’t eat, but that’s beside the point). He was supposed the be puttering around it the kitchen for way too long saying “Rah, when you make gravy, first you have to make the roux”. I am pretty sure he said that exact phrase to me every year for the past 30 years. And I would nod my head and help to stir the roux while he hurried about, checking on the smoked turkey and making 2-3 different versions of stuffing (including a vegetarian one for me). This year, on Thanksgiving I found myself standing in front of the stove at my Aunt Jane’s house helping to stir a pot for a “reduction” while my Uncle Ray ran around perfecting the smoked turkey and trimmings. A reduction seems to be similar to a roux- but it’s not the same. No one said the word “roux” or called me “Rah”.

My aunt and uncle bent over backwards putting on a beautiful feast for our family yesterday. It was really touching. But through the entire afternoon, my head was throbbing and I just wanted to scream.

This just isn’t right!! How can we do something so “normal” like have Thanksgiving without my dad?

Boycotting the holidays all together has crossed my mind many times over the past few weeks. Every time I see Christmas decorations or advertisements I roll my eyes and grumble about how I am not interested. But at the same time, I am torn. I hate the idea of skipping out on these magical times for my children. I know they won’t be young forever. As frustrating as it is to me, they really have no concept of how everyone in our immediate family is suffering.

So for now- I guess I will continue to go through the motions and try to remember that despite my family’s huge loss and suffering, we do still have much to be thankful for.

What To Say

It’s strange.  I have always loved writing on this blog.  It has been a fun outlet to share all of the joys of my family with those who are a little bit further away. It has also served as a nice journal to look back on years later to see what we were up to at certain times in our life.  To relive our precious memories and see how our family has grown.  But now, I feel angst at the very thought of writing. Seeing my thoughts in print makes them so much more real.  Add it to my list of things I have to do for the first time. 

It has been a little over a month.  In some ways it feels like so much more time has past.  Our lives and our world has changed so much in these past days, how could it possibly have been only short five weeks?  In other ways, I feel like I am still stuck in the same blurry, horrific day.  And while I wish I could block it all out- every moment from that day is etched into my mind like a bad record.  Where I was and what I was doing when my phone rang, the scared voice on the other end- telling me I needed to come home immediately.  My disbelief.  The police officers in my parent’s drive way- looking at me with a vacant, knowing stare.  Sitting with my mom and sister and coming completely undone.  How can this be happening?  Like a strange scene out of a movie- where everything is in slow-motion, and every sound is amplified to grotesque proportions.  I’ve never experienced anything like this before.  And while I have always thought of myself as living life to the fullest and experiencing everything life has to offer- I find myself now cycling through the most intense emotions I have ever experienced.  It makes every other moment of my life pale in comparison. It is all so real- so raw.

Everywhere I look I see my dad.  He was such a magnanimous part of my life.  I hear his voice and all of his silly phrases with virtually everything I do.  Sometimes it makes me smile, or laugh out loud.  But most of the time, it catches me, and I feel my eyes well up with tears.  If I am around a group of people, I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying- but when I am alone I don’t even bother. 

I have so many wonderful memories that I hope I can someday pull it together to write about.  What I don’t have is any regrets.  Only a deep sadness that I have lost a man who meant the world to me.