What?!?!?!?! 2 days in a row?
But some things happened and I want to get them down.
First of all, I'm exceedingly jealous of my mom right now. That doesn't often happen, mainly because she still lives in Boston, where they have winter, and things like snow, sleet, and ice. I love my hometown, but less so between late October and early June.
However, she got to go to a screening of "The Fifth Estate" the other night, the film about Julian Assange and Wikileaks. It was a special event for media types, and since she's a journalism prof, she was invited. The rest of us here in the States have to wait until Oct. 18th, I believe.
But she thoroughly enjoyed it.
Yesterday was my EFT phone session, and it was a doozy. It's funny to find out you've been holding on to things like grief for 5 years when you thought you were so over it.
Well, as "over it" as you can be when your parent dies.
I've written about the weight gain I experienced after my dad passed. And the difficulty I've had in getting it off. And I knew they were connected. But I've been so invested in the "closure" he and I got when he was dying, that I never let myself fully grieve. I didn't cry at the memorial, telling myself I had to be strong for my mom.
Which is, basically, bullpucky. I guess I felt we, as a family, were a bit on display, and I desperately wanted some privacy. Hard to do in a room with 500 people.
I don't believe that things end at death. I'm not sure what, exactly, comes after, but I do believe there is something else. And I think, I certainly HOPE, that the something else is something wonderful. I hope Dad is there with his buddies, telling jokes and swapping stories over a beer. And hanging out with all our dogs and cats who've crossed that Rainbow Bridge.
The thing is, that great closure? I wish we'd found it before he was dying. Before he got sick. I wish we'd been able to come to a place where we understood each other at that level a long time ago. But we're very similar, he and I, and I think we were both too proud and too stubborn. And, maybe, too angry at each other.
When he was in the hospital, and could barely speak, all that anger and pride and stubbornness went away. Because we both knew there was no time left. I had only a few days, then I had to get back & take care of my kids. They were only 7 and (almost) 5 then. He and I knew it was the last time we'd see each other, at least here. In this life.
I know that my regrets are very common. I also know that we give ourselves very little time and even less room for grief. After he died I flew back east, stayed a few more days, then came home and went back to work/being Mom/regular life. When people offered me condolences, I (hope I) accepted them graciously, smiled, told them I was doing OK, and believed I was.
Not so much, as it turns out.
It wasn't until he was dying that I realized how much he loved me. And how much I loved him. I wish I'd known sooner.
It wasn't until he was gone that I realized the full extent of his pride in both of his kids. I wish I'd known sooner.
It's not until now that I realize how much of him is in me, and how proud I am of that. I wish I'd known sooner.
But we cannot turn the clock back.
This Sunday will be the 1-year anniversary of Luna, our dog's, passing. Which may not seem like much compared to losing my dad. But they adored each other, and I hope they're together.
And so, I guess the grieving process begins.