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Dr. Bob is Robert Hsiung, MD,
bob@dr-bob.orgShown: posts 1 to 8 of 8. This is the beginning of the thread.
Posted by saw on November 16, 2004, at 0:39:19
It was this exact time last week that I learned of my father being ill. A day later he was gone. Many babblers have gone through this last week with me. Thank you. I would prefer to post on social as I feel lonely here, but I am grateful, nonetheless, of having a place to go.
The service is now over and I guess daily routine needs to be resumed and life has to go on. But I will never be the same again. I don't mean that in a bad way. This whole experience has affected me very deeply. I truly did not expect to feel the crushing pain that I did. I don't feel that I need to turn the clock back, but I do wish that I could speed up the grieving process a little.
The service was brief but very poignant. There were few people, but dad did not socialise much. There was one man that stood out to me. He was an old, stooped gentleman with a hearing aid and a walking stick, wearing a pin stripe suit and looking quite distinguished. I was told that my father had been teaching him computer literacy in the last few months. He is 94 years old. I was deeply touched by this. Not only by a 94 year old learning the computer, but by dad doing something like this. It is just something I never would have expected him to do.
Anyway, the service was officiated by a woman that we called a "spiritualist". She spoke of my father going onto a greater experience. I opened the service with my song. I stood right next to his casket and sang. I almost "divorced" myself from the situation just to remain composed. And I did. In fact, I remained composed throughout and only shed my tears at home. My song was very moving to all and my dad's wife said it described them so well. At the end, I leaned over and kissed his casket. (My poor husband thought my hair might catch alight on the candle). We had no flowers, as dad wasn't flowery, but there was greenery on the mantle piece with 6 candles and sandlewood incense was burning.
We placed tracks and one of his prized coaches on the casket with his favourite Snoopy (Joe Cool) character on the coach. It was very fitting and exactly what he would have wanted.
My brother flew in from Pennsylvania and it was good to have him there. He spoke very eloquently for our dad.
And then it was time to go. I actually didn't want to leave the casket. I didn't want to leave him behind. But I will let the memories of his love and the happy times we knew, ease the loss and make him seem very close to me.
We recorded the service and it was only when I watched this at home, that I allowed the tears to come.
My husband has not left my side through all of this. He has been an indestructable support to me and has not stopped telling me how proud he is of me and how proud he is of my strength. (I don't need to tell him how totally wobbly inside I still feel, I think he knows).
Thank you, everyone, for sharing this journey with me.
Sabrina
Posted by saw on November 16, 2004, at 4:13:52
In reply to I suppose life returns to normal now?, posted by saw on November 16, 2004, at 0:39:19
but I'm not getting it right. Just want to cry. Feel so sore. I wish I could put a plaster on my heart.
It hurts so much.
Sabrina
Posted by partlycloudy on November 16, 2004, at 5:36:20
In reply to Trying so hard to concentrate, posted by saw on November 16, 2004, at 4:13:52
Don't try to force your healing, Sabrina. It will happen when you're ready. It's so difficult to keep yourself in motion when there is such turmoil inside, but that's what we're best at, isn't it? Just remember to let it out when you get home, and keep leaning on your husband.
Posted by Jai Narayan on November 16, 2004, at 8:31:51
In reply to Re: Trying so hard to concentrate, posted by partlycloudy on November 16, 2004, at 5:36:20
having a parent die is so major.
I am still pondering my parents deaths.
There is no normal for a while just real different.
I was sad in waves for quite a long time after my dad died.
The saddness would creep up on me and next thing I knew my eyes were wet.
the one thing that doesn't go away is that he is in your heart and mind.
For good or ill we take parts of our parents with us into our future.
thinking of you.
Jai
Posted by AdaGrace on November 16, 2004, at 19:53:46
In reply to I suppose life returns to normal now?, posted by saw on November 16, 2004, at 0:39:19
Sabrina
No, it does not return to normal. Not right away, and who is to say what is normal?
It hurts like hell, and it does for a while.
Get through today, and try to get through tomorrow, and then try for the next day.
That is how I did it. It's not easy, and it's not fast.It takes time.
Listen to me, I am so jacked up inside over my own crappola, but I know this, I have lost my Mother, and it has been 6 years.
There is no right or wrong way to deal with this, but pretending it didn't happen or trying to "get on with normalcy" isn't it.
You do the best you can, the best way you can. It hurts, and there will be days where you really feel terrible, and then there are beautiful days where you think of that person who passed on and you smile about something they said, or something they did.
And before you know it, you are remembering them with fondness all the time and you are imagining them with other loved ones laughing their arse off to the point of peeing their pants over something someone said......at least that is how it is for me. It gets better. It really does.
Even if I am so full of hate and self loathing right now, I know that I dealt with my Mother's death the best I could, and it was hell on earth. Having lived through that, you would think I could deal with the thing I am dealing with right now better, but I see it differently, different issues, different situations.
I feel for you sweety, really I do.
E-mail when you can.
AdaGrace
Posted by trucker on November 29, 2004, at 10:25:35
In reply to I suppose life returns to normal now?, posted by saw on November 16, 2004, at 0:39:19
sabrina..
thankyou for sharing this very personal time of your life with us here at babble.. you have done well little one!! your father would be very proud of you and thank GOD for husbands... when ya need them the most they seem to come shining thru for us.. take care and stay in touch.. we still are sista's and friends on the babble thread.. some have just moved on to bigger and better things they say.. i will be here for years to come.. of coarse if i have the time to stop. always know that i care even if ya don't hear from me right away..trucker
////////////////////////////////////////////////> It was this exact time last week that I learned of my father being ill. A day later he was gone. Many babblers have gone through this last week with me. Thank you. I would prefer to post on social as I feel lonely here, but I am grateful, nonetheless, of having a place to go.
>
> The service is now over and I guess daily routine needs to be resumed and life has to go on. But I will never be the same again. I don't mean that in a bad way. This whole experience has affected me very deeply. I truly did not expect to feel the crushing pain that I did. I don't feel that I need to turn the clock back, but I do wish that I could speed up the grieving process a little.
>
> The service was brief but very poignant. There were few people, but dad did not socialise much. There was one man that stood out to me. He was an old, stooped gentleman with a hearing aid and a walking stick, wearing a pin stripe suit and looking quite distinguished. I was told that my father had been teaching him computer literacy in the last few months. He is 94 years old. I was deeply touched by this. Not only by a 94 year old learning the computer, but by dad doing something like this. It is just something I never would have expected him to do.
>
> Anyway, the service was officiated by a woman that we called a "spiritualist". She spoke of my father going onto a greater experience. I opened the service with my song. I stood right next to his casket and sang. I almost "divorced" myself from the situation just to remain composed. And I did. In fact, I remained composed throughout and only shed my tears at home. My song was very moving to all and my dad's wife said it described them so well. At the end, I leaned over and kissed his casket. (My poor husband thought my hair might catch alight on the candle). We had no flowers, as dad wasn't flowery, but there was greenery on the mantle piece with 6 candles and sandlewood incense was burning.
>
> We placed tracks and one of his prized coaches on the casket with his favourite Snoopy (Joe Cool) character on the coach. It was very fitting and exactly what he would have wanted.
>
> My brother flew in from Pennsylvania and it was good to have him there. He spoke very eloquently for our dad.
>
> And then it was time to go. I actually didn't want to leave the casket. I didn't want to leave him behind. But I will let the memories of his love and the happy times we knew, ease the loss and make him seem very close to me.
>
> We recorded the service and it was only when I watched this at home, that I allowed the tears to come.
>
> My husband has not left my side through all of this. He has been an indestructable support to me and has not stopped telling me how proud he is of me and how proud he is of my strength. (I don't need to tell him how totally wobbly inside I still feel, I think he knows).
>
> Thank you, everyone, for sharing this journey with me.
>
> Sabrina
Posted by saw on November 30, 2004, at 1:24:18
In reply to Re: I suppose life returns to normal now? » saw, posted by trucker on November 29, 2004, at 10:25:35
Oh Trucker, I am smiling now because you called me little one!
Sabrina
Posted by trucker on November 30, 2004, at 9:44:48
In reply to Re: I suppose life returns to normal now? » trucker, posted by saw on November 30, 2004, at 1:24:18
glad to hear ya smiled!! you are a sweetheart too!!
trucker
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////> Oh Trucker, I am smiling now because you called me little one!
>
> Sabrina
This is the end of the thread.
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