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| this is how I'm doing... |
I've been working on something for a few days, but it's been really hard to put it all into words. I wonder if I'm still just numb from it, not allowing myself to properly grieve, while I'm seeing other people who knew it lose their shit over this.
My siblings seem to be in a similar space, though, so I guess that's okay. We haven't really talked about it, just the three of us, but they seem to be in the same headspace that I am over dad's death. Maybe it's because we watched it happen. Maybe it's because between the three of us, someone was there everyday he was in the hospital, and one of us was there the entire three days he was in hospice.
Maybe it's because all of the hurt was taken up by watching him die. God that was terrible. He was in bad shape when I left on Wednesday night, but he got much worse, and didn't even live a full 24 hours after I last saw him. I want to say that his being dead is traumatic for me, but the reality is the dying process was the traumatic part.
Months of chemo.
Continuing to lose weight when all he did was eat.
The cancer spreading in spite of all efforts.
It ate him. Cancer swallowed him up and took him away, and I know I'm not totally numb to it because I'm angry. Why didn't his GP go "hey this is weird" when he lost 70 lbs seemingly over night? Why didn't the stupid surgeon just operate when he said "I can take it out right now if you want", instead of going with the plan which only ended up slowly poisoning him to death? Why didn't any of his doctors listen when he started complaining about abdominal swelling? Why couldn't they do more to help him?
Why wasn't I there more? Why didn't I try harder to make sure all the paperwork was taken care of ahead of time? Why didn't we go camping as a family last summer?
None of these questions can be answered now. There is nothing I can do or say to bring him back, and even if we could, he would still be sick. Maybe I'm not grieving as hard as other people because I came to terms with it while it was happening. Yes it was fast, but I did everything I could and everything he could have asked me to do. I was there. And so were my sibs. We watched it happen, and now that he's not dying anymore, maybe there's comfort in that. I don't know.
My siblings seem to be in a similar space, though, so I guess that's okay. We haven't really talked about it, just the three of us, but they seem to be in the same headspace that I am over dad's death. Maybe it's because we watched it happen. Maybe it's because between the three of us, someone was there everyday he was in the hospital, and one of us was there the entire three days he was in hospice.
Maybe it's because all of the hurt was taken up by watching him die. God that was terrible. He was in bad shape when I left on Wednesday night, but he got much worse, and didn't even live a full 24 hours after I last saw him. I want to say that his being dead is traumatic for me, but the reality is the dying process was the traumatic part.
Months of chemo.
Continuing to lose weight when all he did was eat.
The cancer spreading in spite of all efforts.
It ate him. Cancer swallowed him up and took him away, and I know I'm not totally numb to it because I'm angry. Why didn't his GP go "hey this is weird" when he lost 70 lbs seemingly over night? Why didn't the stupid surgeon just operate when he said "I can take it out right now if you want", instead of going with the plan which only ended up slowly poisoning him to death? Why didn't any of his doctors listen when he started complaining about abdominal swelling? Why couldn't they do more to help him?
Why wasn't I there more? Why didn't I try harder to make sure all the paperwork was taken care of ahead of time? Why didn't we go camping as a family last summer?
None of these questions can be answered now. There is nothing I can do or say to bring him back, and even if we could, he would still be sick. Maybe I'm not grieving as hard as other people because I came to terms with it while it was happening. Yes it was fast, but I did everything I could and everything he could have asked me to do. I was there. And so were my sibs. We watched it happen, and now that he's not dying anymore, maybe there's comfort in that. I don't know.
1 comment:
You were there when he needed you, and the details are irrelevant now. It will get easier, and harder at the same time, but over time it will hurt less.
I had questions about his care as well, but I also know any kind of abdominal ailments are difficult to work with, and cancer is the worst. Any time they operate, they risk spreading the cancer.
It was really hard to be there, and I am glad I was there when I was , as difficult as it was. He was surrounded by those who loved him, and really that is all anyone can ever ask for in life...
Love you kiddo
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