It's 9:34p on Friday night and I'm looking around the apartment. I really should clean, or at least "straighten up," but instead all I want to do is Pigeon and Pyramid Pose and feel some actual sensation that I can handle, process, understand, compartmentalize. I look on the corner stool and there are the flowers that Maryhaven, Dad's nursing home for the last two years of his life, sent after he died. It's been 52 days since that morning in late June and the flowers are wilted. Still, I can't bear to throw them away.
My eyes fall to the floor under the standing lamp, where the book "Living After a Loved One Has Died" landed after I threw it there in frustration one night.
Over on the desk stand 25+ sympathy cards from friends and coworkers...I have taken great care in opening them on the most difficult nights and there are still two more that I haven't opened yet...but I am saving them because I am scared for the day when the cards stop coming.
On the bedside table sits "Healing After Loss- Daily Meditations for Working Through Grief," a book my dear friend gave me for my birthday 13 days after Dad died. She thought it was a somewhat strange birthday gift but the daily readings and validations have proved invaluable for me over the past 7 weeks.
Poking out of the recycling is the program from a reception I went to at Midwest Hospice last night. I would have not been able to make it through the past two and a half years without their incredible care and support...and Dad certainly had a vastly improved quality of life because of them.
On top of the stack of papers "to be filed" is a large envelope from The Cremation Society of Illinois. I am reminded that I still haven't picked up his ashes from the office in Park Ridge. I will soon. Seriously. I just haven't...had time...or I don't want to. But I can't stand to have them stay there either...
I open the fridge and there is the hummus I bought at the Trader Joe's across the street from Maryhaven for dinner while I sat with Dad during his last night. It's half empty and probably moldy but I can't bear to throw it away.
I get a text message from a coworker. I remember how she came out to sit with us twice during the five days Dad was dying...she had never met him before but knew him through my stories. She was there, present, giving, willing to Be with us at the most difficult time.
I am tired. My boss is on vacation this week and I snuck away for a yoga class during my lunch break today, which was cathartic but also made me Feel. Now, nine hours later, I am emotionally drained. I miss him now. Earlier today a friend texted that she is having dinner with her father, who lives out of state and is back in town for the weekend. I am happy for her, but a teensy bit jealous. Yesterday I helped a friend and his family move his grandmother into a local independent living facility- being with the family made me happy, but a teensy bit jealous.
I haven't canceled plans since Tuesday, and I even went on a date this week. I've gone out every night since Tuesday. I have distractions. But still. I miss my father so much, all the time. The reminders are everywhere, and even if they weren't around they would still be top of mind.
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