My Abnormal Delayed Grieving Process.....

Yesterday was awful... Truly awful. I won't go into details because I truly have no need to relive it and get upset. I actually started off my day great. I love Thanksgiving and all that it entails. I cooked and cooked and everything was great until Matty went down for his nap. Then I just fell to pieces. I don't know why... I was alone with my thoughts and I just couldn't help but cry.

I've been in a kind of dark place lately. Not spiritually.... It's just that I'm finally allowing myself grieve. I thought I was doing really great but I'm not sure that I actually am. I thought I had dealt with everything very well and then suddenly it has really snuck up on me. This past month has been emotionally taxing...

It actually all started maybe three weeks ago. My dad's cancer doctor called. It may seem odd that he called so many months after the fact, but his people skills aren't necessarily what they should be.... It stirred up a lot things in my mind. He asked if Dad had known that he was going to die. The truth is that Dad had insisted that Mom go home because he was determined that he wasn't going to die. Grandma had just died at the exact same hospital and Mom was very hesitant to leave him but he insisted that he wasn't going to die any time soon. When a nurse called Mom to come to the hospital, he already had a tube down his throat because he was having such a hard time breathing.

I don't know why I had kind of assumed that he had already slipped into a coma at that stage.... I guess just because by the time Mom called me he was in a coma and they were doing compressions on his heart.... But I guess when Mom first got there he was actually alert. Anyways- after the doctor called, mom mentioned that he kept trying to talk but he couldn't because of the tube. Suddenly I just felt sick. I can't help but wonder what he would have said if he could have. Did he know he was dying?? Was he scared? I know that he was a man of faith, but even some of the most faithful of men can be scared of death. I can't stand the thought of him being scared and not being able to voice it.

Death Is Ugly.

I don't understand how people say that someone passed peacefully because it's never peaceful. I've been at the deathbed's of two people now and I can tell you that it is one of the most horrific things ever. It's something that never leaves your brain. I see it when I close my eyes. I hear it when I'm trying to fall asleep. I can smell the hospital on my clothes and on my hands. I can still feel the my heart stopping as they announce his time of death. And once they are gone, they really are gone. It's only a shell. It is so obvious that they aren't there anymore. I hugged him and I kissed him just like I would have if I was tucking him in at night but it really didn't matter anymore. His body was stiff and was quickly turning cold. I held his hand and didn't really want to let it go because I've always loved to hold his hands. I remember thinking that he had the biggest and strongest hands in the world when I was a little girl. Suddenly he hands were the hands of a stranger. These hands that I loved and knew for so long.....I stayed with him longer than anyone else. I just couldn't seem to leave even though he had become a stranger in just a few minutes. It just seemed so callous to leave him all alone.

It has all just come racing back to me the past few weeks. I have a need to deal with my grief in private. It's just all so frusterating! I saw him in heaven after he died. I had a vision of him in heaven. He praised the Lord and rejoiced in the Glory of God. I wouldn't even wish him back if I could because I have seen his joy... I don't grieve for him. I grieve for myself. I don't know what's wrong with me because I can't seem to dwell on his joy rather than my own sorrow.

Yesterday was just so very hard. People can be so selfish in regards to their own desires.... Rather than try to ease the people who happen to be in pain, they can't help but assert their own self-centered agendas....