Grief & showing up
Grief is a funny creature. I can be fine one minute and weepy the next. This past week has been a roller coaster of emotions.
My father is declining quickly. The details are unimportant, although it's hard to watch. I go over every day and visit. I see him with one foot in our world and one in the other. He's happy to see me, but is uncomfortable in his body.
I've never watched anyone die before. It's always been news from afar. Watching the process is something new and challenging.
Thank goodness for my mother. She is handling this brilliantly. She is a model of a nurse, and the most anyone could wish for. She is competent, loving, and talkative without being overbearing or falsely cheerful. I found myself dreading to go over there and to face reality. She began to talk to me about others who have died, and what she's seen. She made it so I can see what a gift it is to be able to die at home, in bed, surrounded by loved ones - and with the chance to say goodbye.
It's hard. It's life. At times it feels completely unacceptable, but that feeling passes. It's just that part of me that is sad to say goodbye, when I know in my heart that my dad is tired and pretty much ready to leave.
I can't do any more than to show up and give my love while I can. Our goodbyes have been said, and it's a treasure to get to hear 'I love you' a little bit longer.