To the outside world, I appear A-OK. And I really am okay. But what is going on inside is a sort of confusion, an unsettled frustration, as I try to reconcile the loss of my dad.
In one regard, I fear grief because it is unpredictable and hits at random times. But most of me is just trying to relax into the process, knowing that the same God who was with us in my dad’s dementia journey is with me still.
It’s just so strange to one moment have your loved one, even a version of your loved one that is resting comfortably in a hospital bed and not responding, and then they draw their last breath and you no longer have them.
As I think about the sudden, surprising, abrupt, and forceful experience of the moment my dad died, I think of the flush of an airplane toilet. That loud, abrupt, and forceful WHOOSH!! Where something is all of a sudden whisked away. Death whisked my dad away in an abrupt, less-than-a-second moment. Even though it was a peaceful passing for him, it ushered in a reality for me that doesn’t always feel peaceful.
Knowing that we got it right in his dementia journey, that he lived and died having experienced a full life and with his dignity intact, this brings me peace. Knowing that the basics of life were becoming increasingly difficult for him, and looking into his eyes, I saw that he was ready to go, which brought me a bit of peace. But I’ve decided that the death of those we love is stupid. Yep. I’m being a little humorous, but most people who have lost loved ones agree with me. The death of those we love is stupid. Sigh…..
