This is How I Grieve - Day 5

Okay, so it's only 10:15am and I don't really have a full day to share.  But my boys and I are heading out in a few hours for a couple of days of video game competition.  At my memorial service some day, I hope they talk about how many of these I went to.  ;)

But here's the thing...I think I was getting a little cocky about this whole grief thing.  I was feeling pretty good.  And it gave me such hope.  Of course, I knew what happened last night would happen again, I guess I just thought I had a little more time.  And...that...my friends, is grief.

Darkness and I got into it again last night.  Sleep was elusive.  I absolutely could NOT sleep.  I got up for a while, went back to bed for a while, got up again.  Ugh.  Knowing I had a full day ahead today wasn't helping.  

I cried so much that I dehydrated myself and then my mouth was super dry so I had to down a ton of water, which, of course, meant I was going to take several trips to the bathroom.

I was mad.

I was frustrated.

And I was tired of hurting like this.

But here's the reality.  It will be four weeks tomorrow.  Four little weeks.  I had my dad in my life for 46 years, 5 months, and 24 days.  I've been without him for four weeks.  I'm just starting this grief journey.  Just at the very beginning of it.  I'm just a couple weeks into the shock wearing off.  Yes, the last two days gave me hope.  I'll hold on to that.  But this is the journey of grief.  It is not easy.

I miss my dad.  

Let me be clear...I am thankful that he is out of that body that was holding him back all these years.  But I miss him.

I am uncomfortably grateful that I don't have to worry about him anymore, don't have to inventory his room to make sure he's stocked up on everything, don't have to grab his laundry, don't have to have my phone nearby 24/7 in case someone calls to tell me he fell.  I don't miss any of that.  But I miss my dad.  

And I miss what could have been.  And what once was. 

I feel like my parents should have had so many more good years.  I am angry that other people still have their parents well into their own 50s and 60s and enjoy time with them.  Maybe it's more jealous...but it feels like angry too.

And I miss the innocence of my younger years.  I miss my dad's laugh.  I miss when the world seemed small and safe.  I miss when I felt under the protective wing of my dad.  

I don't know why my parents had to die just before Thanksgiving and Christmas.  I don't know why I have to do these holidays so soon into new grief.  But it's what I've got.  And I hate the holiday commercials.  I hate the TV shows where families gather.  Of course, realistically, I know that holidays are filled with stress and arguments in many families.  And this Thanksgiving will be quiet for us and that feels lovely.  But I still miss what I will never have again.  

I'm not looking forward to Christmas decorating because the pile of decorations that I put up at dad's house are just sitting in a box waiting for me to unearth them and cause emotion.  I've been decorating dad's place since mom died.  It was one extra thing to do each year around a holiday I don't enjoy much anyway.  But it will be a task clearly missing this year.  

And then there's his birthday.  New Years Eve is my favorite holiday.  Mainly because it just feels like a new beginning and there are no requirements of gifts or even food really.  Just a bottle of champagne and you're good to go.  :)  But this will be the very first New Years Eve where I can fully sleep in the next day.  I can just relax on New Years Day with nothing else do to.  Because my dad's birthday was New Years Day.  And this year, there will be no celebrating.  Last year, I remember so vividly walking in the hall with him on his birthday and asking him if he knew hold old he was.  He said 88 and I laughed and told him he had aged himself 10 years.  And then I said, "you might just make it to 88 though!" And he smiled.  Little did I know that he wouldn't see even one more birthday.

So, obviously, there's a lot of stuff still swirling around.  And my sleepless night made it clear that, although I took a couple steps forward, it was time to take a few steps back.  And that's part of the process.  I know this.  But I don't have to like it.

This week was good.  I am beyond glad that I took this time off.  I feel ready to return to work.  I feel a little lighter and much more clear-headed.  And I did five days worth of meditation, five days worth of moving my body and getting these muscles working again, and did semi-well on food and water.  I'm actually better at that when I'm working anyway.  Those were my goals.  And I feel good about having completed them.  I feel confident I'll keep it up too.  Because I know how much better I feel.  

And that's the balance there.  Continued self-care.  And continued grieving.  They can be done together.  And that's what I hope to maintain as I keep moving forward.