Jun 11

Crying to Eatsy because She Gets Me

My father died Sunday, June 7th.

He was in a hospice care center, and for the rest of my life I will be a big advocate of hospice. I will also fight to make the topic of death no longer taboo. My family has always very openly talked about death, and it really helped when the hard decisions came. There were so many.

He spent his last few days with his family. He saved his real conscious times for my mother. He died in his sleep with my mother sleeping in the chair right beside him. I believe it was a good death.

I feel like I should be a lot more devastated than I am I lost my daddy. The first man I ever loved, and my whole life’s hero. Things have been so busy though, and there have been so many blessings wrapped up in his death.

I’m not saying I haven’t cried. I was looking through a bag of stuff and found his glasses. I held his glasses and wept. They were a part of his face as something like his nose. While he was in the hospital, he would wake up and immediately need them on. I must have gotten up a thousand times to help him put them on. Now, they are sitting on my desk. One day, I put them in a shadow box.

I just feel him everywhere, and I see so many good things. I feel closer to my sister than I ever have. I’ve always considered her impressive, but watching her care for our parents and want everything just right for everyone, including me, has shown me how truly deep and loving her soul is. We might go back to be being kind of cold after all is said and done, but I’m going to make an effort to see that we don’t. She is a truly incredible person.

I spent tonight hanging out with my mother’s sisters and my cousin who is a new momma to a handsome boy. Tonight, because my heart was so raw, I was able to be with them without my normal insecurities and fears, and I felt so much love from these amazing women.

Everywhere I turn I keep finding love and kindness. I feel Dad’s hand in it.

The Viking, of course, has been amazing. He’s been my rock.

He was asleep when I got home. Truth is, I should be asleep. I’ve had very little sleep since it happened, and it is starting to wear on me. My feet are like puff loaves of bread dough. I just felt the need to write. I was sitting in front of Eatsy’s cage giving her treats and loving on her. I buy her love with yogurt treats. I was also listening to the dulcimer tones of the Viking snoring. Eatsy kept being demanding and adorable until I just started talking to her about everything.

I’m scared. I’m scared about tomorrow. We’re having a memorial service. I’m getting up to speak. That right there would be enough with someone of my brand of crazy terrified out of my wits. I’m afraid tomorrow will make it real, like somehow the truth of the situation will finally hit me and I will end up in a pull of snot and tears. I have no outline for what I’m going to say, but I have a good idea of what I’m going to say. I’m oddly at peace with that.

What I’m really terrified of, what really is breaking my heart, is the possibility after tomorrow people will start to move on and he’ll be forgotten. I don’t want my dad to fade like a preserved painting. Like somehow after tomorrow I’m supposed to put down my pain and memories and move forward. I’m afraid he will be talked about less and less and one day he will truly fade from this earth. I told Eatsy this. She pressed her face into my so I’d knows she understands.

 

I should get to sleep now. Tomorrow I need to roll my hair and put on make-up to pretend to the world I’m a grown up. At least Eatsy gets it.

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