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| Grief Painting by Strayer |
Grief is a funny thing. It hits you at the oddest moments and over the most seemingly insignificant things. It's been just over a year since my mother passed away, and it's been not quite two years since my father passed. It was so sudden and unexpected with my dad. He had beat cancer, not once but twice in the previous six years. He had mostly recovered from his experimental treatments, and the doctors had finally lifted the last of the restrictions that were put in place after his stem cell transplant. He was having his two year anniversary of the transplant in less than two weeks. We were planning to get together after he got back from his last check-in with the transplant team. He wanted to go on an Alaska cruise now that he was retired and could be around people again. We were going to do our best to make it happen. And then he was gone because of a doctor's mistake. No chance for those bucket list last trips, not even a good-bye.
Eight months later, my mother had a massive stroke and then a heart attack and then was gone too. She took care of everyone before herself, and that ultimately killed her. It was incredibly unexpected because she didn't let us know how bad her heart condition was. I knew she was seeing a heart doctor because I badgered her until she agreed to go. The COVID-19 pandemic led to her appointment being put off for almost a year. I was visiting the day she finally had her appointment, and she made it seem so minor. Maybe they could treat with medication, or they might schedule a surgery at her next appointment in a month. Then three weeks later, a blood clot allowed to form because her heart valve wasn't working properly went to her brain and caused the stroke. Then her heart and her kidneys couldn't take the stress anymore. And she was gone.
I lost both of my parents in eight month's time. The grief was debilitating, but I bore it because I had to. There was no one else to take care of what needed to be done. It was heartbreaking to go through the house that was filled with almost fifty years of accumulated memories and keepsakes. It was overwhelming trying to sort through all of the legal things and the probate procedures. Add to that being half way across the country from where they lived. It is surprisingly incredibly hard to get things accomplished from another state.
The grief came in waves. Phone calls that I couldn't make. Triumphs I couldn't share. Questions I couldn't ask. Books I couldn't discuss. Recipes I'll never be able to make again. Family connections forever broken. And the ANGER. I am so angry that the deaths were so senseless. Moments, memories, so much living was stolen that we can never get back.
