It's 4:30 in the morning, and I've been awake since 3:00. I finally gave up on trying to get back to sleep (obviously). I was laying here thinking about my mixed emotions as I contemplate the death of my parents. Relief is, perhaps, the surprising emotion. In other ways, it is very much to be expected. The last few years has been filled with trips to visit them and tend to their needs. I can't count the number of times I've made the drive to sit by a hospital bed.
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The knowledge of their declining health has hung over everything I do and schedule, especially since February. I also can't count the times I've scheduled a meeting or an appointment and explained that I might have to cancel due to the death of a parent. So their deaths bring a sense of relief. I am no longer going to have to rearrange my schedule on short notice to come deal with their needs. Daughter and I will now have the freedom to travel without feeling like we need to come here, to visit them or tend to their needs. Their deaths brings a sense of relief, and give me a new freedom.
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Their deaths also bring an overwhelming sense of grief and loss. Since I graduated from college, I've lived in 3 different states. Throughout all moving and change, I've had a home base because of my parents. After all of us moved out, they took my basement bedroom and made it a beautiful guest room. There were twin beds (with excellent mattresses), a TV (which Daughter loved), and room for our things in the closet and drawers. Daughter had a space where she could escape when being around family became too overwhelming. There was a period of time when I was between churches and I thought we might end up staying with them for a while. Fortunately, that wasn't necessary, but I knew it was a possibility. After they moved into their independent living apartment, it got harder, but we had a couch and a recliner that were always available to us. Never did I dream I'd be getting a motel room when I came back to my hometown. I grieve the loss of security that their home always provided.
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My parents were a source of wisdom for me. Dad was able to answer my questions about finances and cooking for a crowd. Mom, who was a five year nurse (the fact that her nursing program took five years and gave her a BSN and RN was a source of great pride to her). She always had an answer to our medical questions. She regularly updated her medical reference books so she would have up to date answers for our questions. I grieve the loss of their wisdom and counsel.
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For years my parents would come to wherever I was living once a year and care for Daughter so that I could attend a continuing education event. They came to our home so they could keep her in her normal routine. They knew that was what was best for her, even though it wasn't convenient for them. Dad knew that Daughter loved his sausage gravy over biscuits, so whenever we visited he would make it for her. After she was diagnosed with diabetes, it was a real challenge trying to figure out how much she could eat and how much insulin she'd need. She'd ask for a second helping, and I'd try to discourage her. Dad always insisted that I allow her to have it, and then he'd send the leftovers home with us. Messed up blood sugars were not as important to him as the fact that Daughter loved it and he was going to give it to her. Because I am single, Daughter only had 2 grandparents, and now she has lost both of them in less than 4 months. I grieve the loss of the love and attention they gave Daughter.
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Dad was very lonely after Mom slipped into dementia, and visits to him led to conversations we'd never have had while Mom's mind was still intact. I heard stories of his childhood and of the grandfather I barely remember. We'd watch old movies together and talk. I grew closer to Dad than I had ever been in my growing up years. I grieve the loss of those conversations and that relationship.
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There is much more to grieve, of course, but these are the thoughts and memories that are running through my mind early on a Thursday morning when I can't sleep. Later today, I'll probably be at Dad's apartment, sorting, packing, clearing things out. I'm sure it will be hard, and the grief will be overwhelming at times. The grief is great because of the people they were. I grieve for my loss, and I'm relieved that they have been set free from their bodies and reunited in a place where once again they can communicate and be free.
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If this post is full of errors, attribute it to lack of sleep and grief....
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