Posted by dandelion on December 23, 2003, at 13:43:37
In reply to Re: It does not grow easier each year.... » zenhussy, posted by Lllucy on December 21, 2003, at 14:46:36
It was comforting to read these posts. I always feel that my coworkers and friends, and even my family (though very small), think that I am simply incapable of "properly grieving". My dad passed away one year ago on Nov. 23 from a massive heart attack. I've finally gotten to the point where I can think of a silly memory of him and laugh to myself. He LOVED xmas, and would spend hours sitting on the living room floor untangling the lights for the tree, and he meticulously sorted through all of our ornaments, only picking out the most sentimental ones. He was the one who would spend the most time on the tree, and afterwards, would step back, hands on his hips, smiling at the finished product. He'd then make a fire, open up a book, and drink a cup of raspberry tea. He was a quiet man. We had a strange connection though. The kind where he could read how I was feeling, and understand. He knew when not to push something, to let it go, to give me space....
I personally have the most difficult time when I experience flashes of his death. I posted a while back on this, but felt I was too detailed and maybe made others feel uncomfortable. Anyway, to be simple about it, I was still living at home at the time, and I woke up at 3 a.m. or so to him falling to the floor upstairs. I attempted to revive him, all the while my mother in the background absolutely hysterical. I am able to switch this thought off, when it comes to me without warning. I started to feel as if I was an emotional robot. It got to be that I could completely control my emotions. My chest would start to ache, and I'd think, "STOP". and it would. After a while, I just felt so grey. When I wanted to cry, I couldn't. And it was nearly impossible for me to share any of these feelings with my mom and sister. They spoke on the phone almost every night, crying with eachother and lamenting why this had happened. My sister or mom would talk of him, and I could immediately feel myself closing up, crawling into my protective space. I worry that those last moments with my dad will haunt me forever. It makes me physically ill when I have flashes of his face, the pajamas he was wearing, the last time we spoke: he was watching the OSU-Michigan game on a Saturday afternoon. I asked him how he was feeling (I took it as a good sign that he was watching the game). He said he was feeling better, and then went about mumbling and cursing to himself when OSU lost the ball. I appreciate others being honest about the fact that it may not get "easier". Nothing irritated me more then when people approached me and said, "Time heals all wounds," "Your dad wouldn't want you to be sad", "You've got to be strong for your mom". Granted, I know death makes many uncomfortable. What to say, how to express your sorrow. Of course, to help myself accept that he was gone, I'd think of how much he hated regrets. He always would tell me, there was no use in dwelling on something that had already occurred. You must deal with it, accept it, and move on. I tried to let go of the things I'd never be able to tell him now, the grandfather he could have been , the fact that he only was able to enjoy 4 months of retirement. It all makes me angry and bitter. So, I focus on all the things that made him so wise, so humourous, and creative. Thinking of these things really does help me to feel more at peace. Thanks for "listening", and God Bless....
poster:dandelion
thread:291836
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/grief/20030903/msgs/292833.html