Tag Archives: Papa

recovering from dad’s death.

After dad died on September 4 I cried. I cried a lot; my body hurt and my mind swelled and headaches were many and long. I found it helped to cry, as if to relieve pressure from my overburdened brain. I got back to work and cried easily when someone mentioned loss, or when I saw someone much older than dad walking slowly. I wished it could’ve been dad, growing old, walking slowly. I cried when I heard a girl call out “Papa, watch me!”. I thought of all the grandsons and the one granddaughter, growing up without their Papa. I thought especially of Thomas who was too young to remember, and of Lily because she’d been raised by my folks since December of 2010. I thought of my mom who is now a single mom to a pre-school girl. It seemed the tears came easy and I began to embrace them. I wouldn’t indulge them by thinking bad thoughts but I let the tears, and the memories come. I decided that because God had made me, and made me to love my father, then HE must have made me to cry as well. And he tells us he gathers up all our tears. I cried in the shower and on the way to work.  I would cry thinking of mom, doing this all alone after being with him since she was 14.  I thought of my brothers, still wandering the earth lost.I thought of my sister who did EVERYTHING to keep dad alive. I cried, I embraced the tears as they let pressure go and healing in. I cried in front of the boys and my husband, cried in front of co-workers and strangers. It was just a part of who I was. I didn’t dwell on it, I didn’t make a point to conjure up images to make myself cry, but I didn’t fight it when it came on it’s own.
This grief has done a few things in my heart. I find myself more quiet, less wanting small talk or even to talk at all. That was hard while working. I was also somewhat  impatient with stupid stuff. Grown people acting like crazy, hormonal teenagers. I did my best in my responses but sometimes my frustration reached the front.  This took me a few months to get through and by February of this year I felt like being social, like being nice, again. Scott told me I could quit work because things were going well with him at work. I had planned to give my notice after a co-worker returned from her medical leave, but then things changed. One phone call, one night, it all changed……. 
To be Continued.

“two weeks, two days” by my mom.


Please excuse me if the entry title is not correct. These last few weeks have flown by and also seemed like a lifetime. They have been like walking through jello, being in an altered state, dazed, like what you see in movies when people are intoxicated or drugged. There have been times of precise alertness and times of confusion and memory lag. I go to the freezer to get something from the pantry. I go from the front of the house to the office in the back and wonder what I am there for. It takes me easily three times as long to accomplish any task.

There is an incredible amount of paper work and telephone calls after someone dies. Although we had prepared as best we knew how, there are still many, many loose ends to tie up. And I’m doing this on two or less cylinders. Thankfully, I have very good friends in place who are walking with me, talking me through all of this and reminding me of conversations with bankers, employers, lawyers, etc. They also are making sure I eat and check up on my sleep schedule. What do people do when they have to face this without dear friends and Jesus? I can’t imagine!

Lily is a comfort even as she grieves. She is mirroring all of the feelings I’m experiencing. Joy: She exultantly greets Papa in the morning on the patio, as she looks at the clouds. “Hi Papa! Good morning!” Sorrow: she mimics me as I sob or gasp for breath. After a few mimics, it becomes comic relief and I have to laugh. She expresses anger, “I don’t like Papa!” When I ask why, she says, “He is happy and we are sad!” She has her own grief. After watching the video from the service: the first time she laughed and pointed out everyone: “there’s Papa when he was young! There’s Papa when he was a baby! There’s me! There’s Paige, etc.” Second time through, same response. She wanted to watch a third time and when I said no, because she needed to eat breakfast, she cried inconsolably. I relented and let her watch a third time and she sat silently and cried silently. Afterward I hugged her for a long time.

This is a continuation of the journey Wayne and I started when he was first diagnosed. Only this leg of the trip, I’m travelling without my life partner. People use the term surreal. I’m going to have to look that word up.

One thing I am happy about: I dearly wanted to travel with Wayne right up to the door that separates earth and eternity. God granted me that desire. I can rest in knowing we fulfilled our vows, “till death do us part.” Thanks be to God.