I've been back in AZ for a few days, but haven't had a moment to log on and post about last week. I figure this time is as good as any, and talking about things has been pretty good in terms of getting a bit better.
As I posted before I left, the service for Dad was last Tuesday, with the military ceremony at Camp Nelson outside of Nicholasville. I thought the service was rather nice, and I was glad to see Tooz there, as well as people I hadn't seen in years. Our old neighbors from Sadieville from almost 20 years ago came--they saw the obituary in the paper. The hospice chaplain, Gary, told us a few times he wished he'd had the chance to meet Dad during the good times--in his line of work, that doesn't really happen. After the service, Dad received a 21-gun salute at Camp Nelson, and since I've never been near a gun when fired, I almost wet myself at the first volley. Mandi was there, and she grabbed me and held me for the rest. Somehow, we got through the day. Mom wanted to spend the rest of the afternoon and evening alone, and Jamie and John called us that night to have dinner. Jamie and I had a couple shots for Dad and talked about the day. We agreed that while people meant well, and it's a social convention, asking us, "How are you?" at our Dad's funeral wasn't the best idea. Jamie had to hide to fight the urge to punch the next person who asked her. Me, I watched people ask me, then realize what they had asked, and I had to fight the urge to laugh as they struggled with wanting to take it back. Completely irrational, we know, but it was so difficult and our nerves so raw it was really hard to predict how we were going to behave.
We spent most of the week with Mom, Jamie, Todd, and Erin, in various combinations, as we just needed to be together. I felt badly for Tom since he was trying to be so strong for me, but it's only been a year since he lost his father, and he really liked Dad. I helped Mom with the finances, attempting to get her on track with the changes, and helped Jamie move into her new place in town. Thursday night, Tooz and David invited us for dinner, but only Christopher and I could go. Tom needed alone time, Mom had plans with a friend who was bringing her meatloaf, and Jamie had to get the kids settled into the new house and their homework done. We had a very nice time at the Plum Tree, Christopher was amazingly cute on his best behavior, and they forgave his newfound curiosities withs straws and styrofoam.
Friday afternoon we left for Phoenix via Lexington, and I'm glad we decided to fly through Lexington instead of Louisville. Tooz, I did call about bereavement fares, but the airlines don't do that anymore. They just guarantee the lowest fare available for the route, which is what I got. Since getting back, the reality of everything is finally sinking in and I'm finding myself puttering around with a lot of nervous energy. I find that I'm impatient on a lot of things (though I'm trying to be more patient with CJ, who's beginning his terrible twos), and I have this driving need to finish making our house a cozy home--something we've been working on since we moved in. This weekend, I went out and got baskets, boxes, new towels, new shower curtains--things I've been putting off for a while, and I've starting nesting with a ferocity I haven't matched since the last trimester of pregnancy.
I tried going to work yesterday--until I dropped Tom off and discovered I had forgotten my laptop. I went back home and logged in from there, but it became obvious to me as I was trying to catch up that I wasn't ready. I talked to my boss, delegated some tasks, and I'm taking the rest of the week off with plans to return on Monday. So far, I've put together a bathroom cabinet, reorganized my entertainment center and living room, filed my taxes (I get my W2s online early), called about my PLUS loan on Mom's urging to have it discharged, and straightened out a few bills. Considering I can be an exceptionally lazy person when I put my mind to it, that's a lot and it's only 1pm. I still have other financial work to do, grocery shopping, a kitchen to clean, bathrooms to clean, straighten, and redress with the new towels and stuff, and CJ's room to clean and reorganize.
What am I going to do tomorrow?
I realize it's a little manic, but since it's an acceptable reaction and it's constructive to my home and my sense of needing something to do, I'm going with it for now. I'm still having my moments, but I have a feeling that will last a while and just when I start to get past them, it will be Dad's birthday, then Father's Day, then their wedding anniversary, then. . . .
I do have to say that Dad's passing really is a blessing, considering what he was going through over the past few years and how quickly he slipped over the past few weeks. Jamie and Mom were stressed out, spending every moment trying to care for him--Jamie while juggling her own family, and Mom while running out of sick days and trying to figure out how to pay bills. I wasn't in the trenches, but I was the sounding board and the mediator, carried a lot of the worry for them, and tried to help when and where I could while regretting I couldn't help more. Dad told me long ago while driving back from Tennessee one break, while I was mourning a broken relationship and trying to figure out where I'd gone wrong, that you can't live a life of regret since that really isn't living. Somehow, you have to pick up and move on. I know he was proud of me and Tom and CJ, and understood that we couldn't visit as often as we would have liked. And I know he wouldn't want me to dwell on missed opportunities and make myself sick--he'd want to me to be there for my son, do my best for the rest of family, and move on. So I'll try. It'll take me a while, but I'll try.
No Gifts
2 days ago
4 comments:
It's amazing how sensibly you're thinking about all of this--all of it. I can't imagine what it would be like, but I hope I have friends like you around to help me make sense of it all when the inevitable happens.
I'm also really glad to know your mom has friends to bring her meatloaf. She is so wonderful.
Still love you.
I remember when Mom died, I went to work the next day. I was mad when they sent me home, because I just needed something to do. I felt like I would go nuts if I didn't have a task to concentrate on so I wouldn't have to think about how I felt. So do what you have to do to get through it. I'll call you tomorrow on my break instead of on Friday.
Love you and sending you big hugs.
Sensibly? Hmm, maybe I've found something in all this : ) I think it's more that this is kind of alien to me--Jamie mentioned she had never been to a funeral before. We lost our grandfathers before we were born, and lost our grandmothers when we were still too young to understand. I can't speak for her, but I don't know what I'm supposed to do or how I'm supposed to feel, so I'm just tapping into that mental cognizance to stay afloat. I have an instinct sometimes to just hide and curl up somewhere and not come out, to not get out of bed in the morning, but I have a husband and a small child who doesn't understand and I have to keep going for them.
Plus, wallowing around in bed wouldn't seem to do anything except make me sadder and depressed, which I have a feeling would be the last thing Dad would want for me.
Jenn, thanks for sharing that about going back to work. I felt bad about delegating out tasks and telling my boss I wasn't ready, but they did seem surprised that I was back. Mom and Jamie have gone back to work--I talked to Mom yesterday and she told me I needed the extra time, since I was on overdrive with travelling and making sure I didn't forget anything. I'm very happy you'll be calling me--it's been a while, and the last time you called, I was drunk and sleepy : )
At the risk of sounding like a certain psych major I dated at TC, I'll offer up this nugget of perception...
Sometimes, we need specific tasks on which to concentrate so that we don't have to think about how we feel. When our minds and hearts are "ready" to deal with those strong emotions, only then will we be able to sit down and have a good cry. Until then, do what you have to do to keep busy and not think about it.
Okay, I've taken off my crack-psychologist's cardigan and thick-framed glasses now. The real Jenn has returned. :-)
Love you, and I'm sending you big hugs.
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