Just some random things. No, things are not "back to normal" yet, if you don't want to read my remembrances/what I am going through in re this, go ahead and skip, I will not be offended.
* It still doesn't feel quite real. I'll flip back and forth to feeling like he's in the next room or something to the real finality of it hitting me (usually that, unfortunately, late in the evening, right before bed)
* That said, I'm doing better than I expected I would be.
* I always heard people talk about the concept of a "good death" and I never really understood it before now, but I really do think, inasmuch as anyone can have a good death, he did:
- He was at home, with my mom by his side
- He had less then 24 hours of being really agonized (non-responsive, having breathing problems
- He was given the choice to go to the hospital and refused that choice (while he was still of clear mind)
- I think he knew it was time, or the time was close. My mother told me about some things he asked her to do in the previous days that, in retrospect, made some things a little easier for her.
- When the hospice nurses left for the evening, she told my mom "The hearing is the last to go; if there's music that was special to him, put it on." She decided on the Cubs game that was on the radio and that feels SO right and appropriate to me.
* Oh dangit. I talk and even write ("inasmuch") like my father, I realize.
* His obituary was in the local paper this morning but no link because they want you to have a subscription OR to disable adblocker for them and the ads it offers are huge and intrusive. (If I ran a newspaper, I would allow the Obits ad-free, subscription-free, but maybe I wouldn't stay in business long, IDK)
* The memorial service is set for early the week of Thanksgiving. Yes, that's a long delay but everyone who needs to travel can travel easily then. And it works well for the internment of the cremains...one of my uncles is taking care of that (Uncle Bill has been SO helpful in all this) and he can go by the family plot after the memorial service.
* We have done what paperwork we can do. Today I'm going to see if my mom is up to going through his clothes, or some of the books he had. I know that's gotta be hard but it needs to be done and it will be easier while I am here to help. The clothes that are still good (he had a lot of nearly-new things) we are probably donating to the local St. Vincent de Paul; they run a clothes-closet and my mom felt like my dad would rather things go directly to people in need rather than pass through a thrift-shop middleman and then the money go somewhere....the books, we don't even know. The newer ones could maybe be donated somewhere like Books for Africa if there's a local drop off.
I did grab three of the more recent books for myself - two on protecting water resources and one on crystallography. I figure the water-resources ones might have information for Policy and Law, and while I may not understand a lot of the crystallography one, I do cover a tiny bit of clay mineral crystallography in soils.
I told myself I could only take books with a link to things I am teaching or otherwise I might want to take them all.
She did give me a couple of his old t-shirts - one with a reference to Ireland on it and one commemorating one of the raft trips down the Grand Canyon. I got off with not enough clothes, as it turns out, but I'm frankly surprised I did as well as I did in terms of grabbing things.
She also gave my the "prayer afghan" I made him back in 2003 when he was undergoing diagnosis and treatment of a very early-stage cancer. She felt like I should have it. It has been washed and dried enough times that the acrylic yarn's gotten a little "crunchy" (it's not impossible that at some point, someone dried it on "hot") but that doesn't matter.
* I head home on the 9th. The day I was to have the colonoscopy, though obviously that will not happen this year now. (And ironically and sadly? The last real conversation I had with my dad was him describing what happened in one so I wouldn't be scared.)
* And yes, I can now see how Kummerspeck (literally, grief-bacon) is a thing. Meals are a "normal" thing, food is "normal," in the middle of so many things that aren't. (We've gone out twice for lunch - once to Market Grille, a nice little restaurant right attached to the Hy-Vee in this town - best salad I've had in a very long time, I am guessing they grab the lettuce right as it comes in fresh. And Red Robin, where we'd each never eaten before- a little loud but the sweet potato fries were good). Also people are bringing food though her best neighbor said "If you don't mind, I think I will hold off and cook something for you all when family is in for the memorial" and I think that is a very thoughtful thing; it's just my mom and me here right now.
* My brother and his family are coming in shortly after I leave. It's too bad I won't get to overlap but that's the vagaries of getting bereavement leave as a Federal employee, I guess, and it will be better for my mom to have people here for longer.
3 comments:
It stinks you won't overlap with your brother, but I think it is good both of you get to go home and get to spend some time with your mom.
I am still sending good vibes your way. And will continue until after you get home.
A sad time indeed. I haven't read it all thoroughly but I have followed what you have said in the last year or so. Keep your chin up.
First, my condolences. I've been behind in my blog reading (and writing) since I spent a week away sans computer.
Second, I found my blog was a great comfort when my mom died in 2011. In fact, my 2/2/22011 post, written 5 days before, and published on the day she died, was really odd - the first half wishing my mom well, then the second half, getting the news that she had passed. It STILL makes me cry.
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