Some healing

Being a caregiver was something that I chose. I wanted my dad to have good medical care, a loving environment, feel safe, and be safe. My personal make up and my love for my dad helped with the learning process of caring for him. I am content with the care that we were able to give him, and happy that we were able to do it.

Since his death, I have been understandably sad. There are many things in my house that remind me of him. Every day. In every room. There are sounds that immediately take me back to him. The smell of certain foods remind me of him. If I read this blog, more often than not, I feel tears running down my cheeks. It is still odd not having to get home at a certain time so the caregiver can leave. I miss the caregiver being here. I miss my dad's laugh.

Returning to Michigan for his funeral was a journey unto itself. It was the worst thing ever "leaving" him there, and then returning home without him.

I have continued with routines, but almost in a daze. I know I have been quieter than usual with my family. I know I have not been outside of the house more than is necessary. I have been sleeping a lot. I have been laying in bed during the day and at night, hoping to fall asleep and escape. But then again, I have been having trouble sleeping. I have read that depression is anger turned inward. Angry? me?

It all came to a head the other day. Dealing with lawyers, investors, an empty room, a missing father... ok, I was angry. And I let it out. Poor Tom, he left to avoid it all. I took a shower and cried and cried and cried. I yelled at my dad. How dare he put me thought this!!! How dare he leave me!!! How dare he leave this mess to me!!! He lied to me. He told me that everything was all arranged!!! He said he had papers all organized!!! Then I yelled at my brother for leaving and not helping with my dad!!! And for not helping me with all the aftermath!!! What a mess I was, sniveling like a little girl as I fell asleep.

I felt quite foolish the next day. But I also felt better. I recalled that, throughout the care giving journey, I had to remind myself to take it easy. Do one thing at a time. When I did that, things just fell into place. So I have been trying to do that, with little helpful reminders from my hubby. And it's working too. Last Friday, I repainted my office with gleeful anticipation of my new space (and not trying to get rid of my "dad's room"). Today, I felt overwhelming gratitude to my dad for all he did to make this transition easier. I also put his glasses from his nightstand, and his sunglasses from atop his desk, into a drawer. I didn't toss them. I didn't donate the frames. But I did put them into a drawer. That's progress. :)