Three years a charm

Yesterday my husband and I celebrated our three year wedding anniversary. It was bittersweet in a way. We are both still very much mourning the loss of my father only two and a half weeks ago. We were both very close to him, he was a weekly, if not daily, part of our lives. To say life will return to "normal" one day is a drastic misunderstanding of the word. We will have to re-define normal from now on...and maybe that's ok.

These past three years have been pretty rough on us. We battled my health issues- partial hearing loss in my right ear followed by debilitating vertigo; a diagnosis of Celiac Disease (which people seem to think is the worst of my problems, it is by FAR the least of them); a DVT on our honeymoon followed by a diagnosis of not one but two and today we learned THREE genetic blood clotting disorders. We've also battled addiction issues and underwent marital counseling and came near seperating at one point in our marriage. However, I am happy to say we are happier and stronger now then we have ever been. We are even more in love and having gone through these struggles and triumphed through them together has made us not only love each other more, but develop a deep respect for each other as well.

Fred has been wonderfully supportive in the wake of my father's death. He lost his father at only 9 years old to Kindey Cancer. Now we both visit our father's graves and mourn together - saddly now being able to share that loss.

Its been rough, but I can honestly say we look at life now and stand together stronger than ever. We don't fear what life could throw at us or our marriage. We'll deal with it and get through it- that's what we do.

I miss you already

On September 25th my father, Linwood L. West Jr. passed away at 7:05pm.
He was 54 years old.

These past 9 days have been a blur. NOTHING in life can prepare you for a moment like that. Nothing can prepare you to hear, "he's gone," at the other end of the phone. Nothing can prepare you to reach out and touch your Father just to feel him already cold to the touch. No sooner was I clinging to my father in his hospital bed then talk began of the funeral. I found myself speaking to some funeral director named Robert at 2 o'clock in the morning and before I knew it I was in a funeral home picking out a casket and flower sprays and putting together photo collages. It was all a blur, a rush- time sped forward and went in slow-motion all at the same time.

I was still wrapping my head around what had happened but 'things' needed to be done. Soon I was at a cemetery picking out a plot and arranging for pall bearers and thinking about headstones. Next, I was shaking hands and giving hugs and hearing people say all of the things your supposed to say when someone dies. Then once again I was in the funeral directors office writing checks as large as my car loan and my husbands car loan put together.

SLOW DOWN! I what to scream! I need time. I need time to mourn. I need time to look at his face and imprint it in my memory because I will never see it again. I need time to figure out how I am going to move forward now that I am no longer a caregiver and I no longer have two living parents. I need time to figure out how to let him go and go on.

But it keeps on going, whether your ready for it to move forward or not, it just does.

I keep replaying the last week of his life over and over again in my mind. What did I do? What didn't I do? What should I have done? What should I have said? But, when it comes right down to it - it is too late. All I know is I wish I had one more hour with him or the opportunity to have one more conversation. I wanted him here to see his grandchildren one day! I just want him here. But, I also realize being here was painful for him and his life was filled day in and day out with pain - and as much as I want him here, I never wanted him to suffer.

I'm taking each day as it comes and getting through it the best I can. Some days are ok, some days are really hard. That's just how its going to be for awhile. I spent 9 years, 1/3 of my life care giving for my father. Being his caregiver was a large part of my identity, just as being a wife and daughter are - the adjustment is going to be huge.

All I know is- knowing your parents will die one day does not prepare you for it when it happens. Looking at funerals as an odd and somewhat morbid tradition (as I always have) is only because you have not experienced a true, life-altering loss. A loss of someone who was a daily part of your life, your being. The funeral could have lasted a month and it still would not have been enough time. It was not the grieving or the family and friends (although comforting and supportive) that I needed more of. I needed to be able to SEE him, in person and touch him, although it was very different. It was knowing when that casket closes I will only be left with pictures and memories. And pictures and memories, although wonderful, are not the same.

Now, when I visit a funeral I will truly know the costs involved and will give some small amount to the family if I can. It is disgusting how our society charges people who have just lost a loved one the price of a car for a proper funeral. When I say, "if you need anything," I will mean it, or I won't say it. Nothing has been worse than trying to contact people who have said that and not be able to get ahold of them. It makes those statements seem hollow and empty. But, most importantly I want to stop putting things off and taking things for granted. I want to stop waiting around for the 'right' time to do things. I want to slow down and be less concerned with my "to-do" list and more concerned with being genuine. I want to let go of grudges and just try to be a good person and love and be loved. I have no room in my heart for anything else right now.

I miss him so, so much already.

The visitation and funeral resulted in over 125 people coming by to pay their respects. Many of them didn't even know my father, but they knew me, or Fred or our family. I was sincerley touched and honored so many people took time out of their busy days to be with us. That love is what is getting me by right now.

People keep saying he will always be with me, and I know they are right.
But, really I would give almost anything right about now for just one last hug. Or as my Dad always said, one last "squeeze."