MusingsPosted: March 30, 2011
I’m usually good at the pithy metaphor, but not so much right now. Well, who knows — maybe by the end of this I’ll have come up with one. But probably not.
It’s been an exhausting twelve days. That’s the overreaching feeling I have: tiredness. From my dad’s last painful days to his death, the week in between and the flight back to Chicago for the memorial this weekend.
What is there to say?
My dad was a warm, funny, smart guy. He drove me crazy — he loved to tease me and rile me up — but I loved him. I probably get my love of words, my love of music, and my ease in connecting with people from him.
My sister cried more than usual this week, and I cried less than usual.
While I’m concerned about my mom, of course, the strength she’s showing is impressive, and I know she’s going to come through this okay. Better than okay. It’s a big change for her, and it will take some time, but I think she’s going to learn a lot about herself. I also feel like it will bring us closer, which is a pleasure.
I have incredible friends. People show their true colors during a crisis, and I’m so fortunate to have strong, wise, loving people all around me. They’ve fed us, taken care of us, hugged us, just been there for us. From childhood, high school, college, my work life, and my adult, mothering life — my dear friends here — everyone has encased us in a warm embrace that I won’t soon forget.
I’m not afraid of death. That’s not the scary part. The suffering and feeling like it’s all falling apart, that’s the part to feel apprehensive about. And the pain it causes those around you. After my dad passed, his face got more and more relaxed, gentler and gentler, until it truly appeared he was smiling. That was lovely.
As I expected, yoga and running are my lifelines. They offer me not only structure but also energy and strength to replace what’s sapped. And, of course, the companionship of people I love.
My husband is a rock star. So is my sister’s husband. So are my daughters.
And while I know that all of this will be painful for a while, and that it will take getting used to, I feel confident that I can weather it gracefully. I know how to take care of myself now.