...in which people tweet their miscarriages and Facebook announce their divorces, I will take the opportunity in this post to tell all y'all who don't already know that the man who brought you Bulgy Polish Catcher's Thighs, not to mention me--that is, my dad--passed away unexpectedly this morning of an apparent massive heart attack. I will, of course, always live with the little bit of guilt that he collapsed while D and I were out for an hour and a half and if someone had been here, he could have been revived in time. As well as the guilt that I didn't make him go to the ER earlier this week when he was vomiting. As well as the guilt that I was pissed off at him Wednesday morning for complaining there was no junk food in the house and whatever else he was pissing me off about that day. As well as all the flippant comments about how his needs were always getting in the way of important shit, like me having date night. Sigh.
And I am so, so sad. As I said to D as we were crying together, "It's just you and me now." Just us, all alone. I told D at least Grampa's with Grandma now, and his brothers, but you know I don't believe that. I wish I did.
Anyway, I don't know why I feel compelled to write this, but I am restless and don't know what to do with myself. D and I looked through a bunch of pictures to see if there was one we want to be printed with his obituary and we picked out clothes for him to be buried in and we tried to find something D can wear to the funeral (found a jacket that'll work if it's not buttoned, and a dress shirt that'll fit, and some shoes that only need new laces, but no pants) and I'm doing laundry and I know I should go clean the floor in dad's room because there's blood on it where he fell face forward and and and... Grief is a weird thing. When my mom died, I didn't cry for months. Crying and typing now.
xoxo
2 comments:
It's not enough to say I'm sorry. I've been down this road twice so I know what it's like...and do NOT berate yourself for not being there. Perhaps you could have made no change in the outcome. Perhaps you might have made a change and then had both of you live to regret it. I'm old enough, and live with enough ailments, to think on a quick cardiac passage as a blessing. Still I understand that such a passage is hardest on those left behind.
Go do the basic things, make the basic choices. But keep on doing and living. That's the best way those who survive can remember those who are gone.
Blessed be, and feel free to cry.
Let the tears flow. They bring healing.
Sending you and D hugs and know that you will get through this. Uncle is right, you might not have been able to change the outcome.
More hugs
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