where I have been since my dad died March 7th and what the trip has been like I decided to take a moment to see if I could tell you. There are a few things that I have found in the journey of grief so far that are pretty profound. I'll share them with you.
The anger.
I am familiar with being angry. Of course. I am alive and kicking in this world so I have been angry a time or two but this anger feels much more undirected. I am not angry at my dad, or god, or those of us that are still alive. It is a much more general feeling than that I am very angry at You. With the capital Y. Yes the general you. It is why I had to excuse myself from Facebook for a minute (or two or three). My threshold for idiotic questions and comments is gone. So rather than respond and spew all over people who don't really matter or deserve it, I decided to bow out and just let the anger pass through like a visitor I know has a reason for being there (she is a partner to the grief) so I'll deal for now. I can try to limit the damage in the mean time. But it is pretty overwhelming. I had no idea how angry I'd be.
The loneliness.
This is just one of those things that no matter how much I have complained that people are not there for me or that people don't know how to let me just be a wreck without trying to fix me - the bottom line is I have to go through this myself. Which makes me feel incredibly lonely and incredibly adult. More so than any other time in my life when I have dealt with death firsthand - my abortion and my dog Buddha. I don't have to be a martyr or be alone or be an ass (when I can help it) but it is something that I have to process in my own way.Not one of my fabulous crew unpaid (friends and family) or paid (basically the shrinks) can do anything about that. So I gotta cut'em some slack.
Being uncomfortable in my skin. All of the time.
I remember when I first got sober. Um. 23 years ago in 1987 after my junior prom in high school. But never mind about that. The point is. I spent a lot of time in my first years of sobriety uncomfortable and wanting to escape above and beyond the normal teen angst. I am here again. I thought grief was going to be much sharper. It has sharp moments to be sure but it is mostly a veil of discomfort laid out over my whole being. It is disconnected from the thoughts I have about my father's death, dying and memories I have of him from life. And, yet, I know it has everything to do with RayRay no longer being alive. I miss being able to call him. I cry at least once a day.
I notice men of certain age and fathers.
Where were all of these men before? It took my father dying for this group of men to pop out of the human race at me. I see them everywhere. I hear men on the subway talk about being 57-67 years of age and I think of my dad. I see men on the street walking with their daughters. And sometimes it stops me and I have to cry out loud, right there, where ever I am. I want to run over to them and hug them. But I stop myself. I do realize this is wildly inappropriate. Other times I can just smile and feel so happy for them and for me. I also notice the elderly men and think to myself, my dad will never be that old....
I saw suffering stop.
For the first time in my life I saw suffering end. I have been around alot of suffering people all of my life. In my family, my friends, in the work I do, I have just gotten used to it. And I have seen suffering subside and ebb and flow like it does. But until I watched my father die, I had never seen it stop. I was blown away. I don't know if he felt peace. I don't pretend to know what he felt. No one does.(and if you think you do, please refrain from talking to me about it for now) Watching that intense suffering stop has put a grounding under my feet I did not have before. A belief in the process of dying and death. That it is real. That it is supposed to be there. And that it, while hard and ugly and not easy really, is part of this thing called life.And I feel honored to have been a part of my father's death process. I will be forever changed because of it. I saw it. I saw how love can help someone die how they want to. And I saw how love, in spite of complicated relationships, can be the thing anchors a process like dying. (My stepmom, my sister and my brother are such amazing people you just don't even know. I'll write more on that later.)
So in case you were wondering how I am doing, I am grieving.
Madly, intensely, presently grieving.
Not any more or less than I am supposed to be.
And humbled by every fucking thing about it.
WOW! I wish I was able to express ideas/feelings as completely as you can - your writing still amazes me - and brings me to tears ... all I can say is I love you, and miss you madly! L.
Posted by: Lauren BGG | 04/28/2010 at 12:58 PM