~Shock Waves~

You know your loved one will die. You can talk about it with your siblings, review the funerals that have been made. You can know they have Parkinson's with dementia and CHF. You can know their last stop on this earth is a Care Center. You can grieve all the little losses that are leading the to the one big loss.  You wonder when the call will come and how the end will be for your loved one. Will we know when he is getting close to death? Will he know? Will there be signs is it close? Will I know when it is close? Will I be there when he dies? You can research and learn about death. But nothing prepares you for these words,

"Your Dad just passed away." said bluntly, directly and to the point.

The call came at 7:10 pm on that Saturday evening.

My father-in-law put it this way, "you know they are going to die, it's the shock of one moment they are there and the next they are gone."

Gone. Just. Like. That.

The brain cannot absorb this kind of shock. It's a wave of shock, wave after wave as I tried to absorb the news all that evening.

We are 11 days after his death. I can still see him at River Valley Care Center in the dining room or hallway in his wheelchair. Even though I saw his empty room, did a viewing and more or less witness the casket being lowered into the ground. I sat in the second row, watching and looking away, husband checking on how I was doing.

I can still see him at home (even though he has been living away from his home for 16 months), sitting in his chair all dressed up when we arrived. See him at his desk, at the organ and in the kitchen. I see him standing at the coffee station making coffee. I can see him in my house even though his last visit was Thanksgiving 2017.

I have not adjusted to the fact he is gone. I will not hear his voice on the phone. Send him a note. Visit him at the Care Center. I called more than I visited. He liked talking on the phone. Talk about his care and yes, even death with my siblings and family.

There is a lot of emotions and feelings to go through before acceptance. It's like a big ball of twine. It is untidy, messy, bumpy, uncomfortable and there is no timetable. There is no rhyme or reason or order to the grief process. There is also a lot of junk that pops up that I am working through with counseling. Current loss complied with past losses that were not fully grieved.

My counselor said, "if you are a hot mess you are grieving, if a OCD thought starts you are suppressing an emotion."

Good tip.

I am reminded of this, "bumps are part of the road, they are not roadblocks."

This is my path. Bumps, lumps, humps and all.

LynetteJoy