There are already
things that have changed…
Right now I am eating
to live, not living to eat. Sometimes
food tastes good and sometimes, it tastes like nothing.
Days that I get up,
get out of bed, put on real clothes and do more than stare at the wall are a
good day.
I know my dad wouldn’t
have wanted my life to stop because his did, but it doesn't feel right. It doesn’t feel right trying to move on from
this. It really doesn’t.
Even though I know he
wouldn’t have wanted it this way, it feels macabre to do the things that my dad
no longer can.
And there are things
we would never have thought anything of before, that become meaningful now…
We will never again
think of a cellphone call that goes unanswered as no big deal.
We will never look at
a rain storm and not be filled with dread.
We will
worry that something bad has happened when someone arrives home later than
expected.
Someone
recently said they hoped my illnesses were giving me a break, but honestly, I
would rather that my physical pain and my emotional pain match, rather than
being totally engulfed by emotional pain when the physical presses me to move
forward, to move on.
Right now I feel like
my brain is mush, and like I’m walking at a snails pace.
Many of you reading
this right now are probably thinking that I need therapy. And I do, I know I do. But right now I need to sit with all that has
happened and deal with it in my own time before I bring in a stranger to help
me work through it.
When I got my
diagnoses, I walked out of the doctor’s appointment feeling like the world had
irrevocably changed, but I was the only one to notice it. In this case, the world has irrevocably
changed, but I’m not the only one to have that feeling. Besides my family, it has become apparent
over the last several weeks that my Dad was loved by many, many people, and he
made lasting impact on those that had the pleasure of knowing him.
Two weeks ago, I
could barely walk, barely breathe, was nauseous and dizzy. I could barely keep it together. This week, I am being forced back into
somewhat of a routine, trying to prepare myself for all that I had originally
planned to take place in the coming weeks.
Maybe I’ll get back
into the swing of things by doing new things.
I’ll be attending the Stanford
MedX Conference from September 3, 2014, to September 8, 2014, and I’ll be
attending the ePatient
Connections Conference September 15 and 16, 2014.
My family has urged
me to fulfill these commitments despite everything that has happened. They tell me that my Dad would have wanted me
to forge ahead, despite his tragic loss.
That’s really the
only thing that’s keeping me moving forward right now – that my Dad would have
wanted it that way.
I write a lot about my dad who died twelve years ago. twelve. you would think that by now I would have figured out the right way to handle it but guess what? there is no right way or wrong way. I write about it a lot on my blog hibernationnow.wordpress.com It takes a huge toll. my sister kept telling me "I was grieving too much." There is no such thing. You are who you are. take it at your own pace. It WILL get better but it does take time. give yourself some time, treat yourself well. and if you need to talk, I'm here.
ReplyDeleteThis is an incredibly beautiful, and moving post. The lost of a loved one is always hard, but everyday it gets easier, I'm sorry about your loss though.
ReplyDelete