Yesterday marked the two year anniversary of my dad’s transition from this life into another. Last year I spent the anniversary day lying on the couch feeling nauseous. This year I functioned normally.
I lit my ‘dad candle,’ a candle that I light on holidays, special occasions or just when I’m missing him. It reminds me that dad is now playing in the light and my grief is separate from his death.
It wasn’t like his death was a surprise or untimely. He had a great quality of life for 86 years before beginning to fail. During his decline, I visited 8 times. A couple of those trips weren’t planned but were in response to emergencies.
Clearly, my dad’s death wasn’t unexpected. The grief, however, was a surprise. My intellect said I’d experienced anticipatory grief so when dad died, I’d be fine. That’s not what happened.
When I returned to Denver after the funeral, I was sick in bed for a week.
I decided to design a service to celebrate dad’s life with my friends, since the funeral Mass in South Carolina didn’t hold meaning for me. The service I created provided comfort, as did a grief class I took.
It still seemed, however, that an unconscious grief agenda superseded what I thought would be my response to my dad’s death. I could fight that unknown agenda or I could surrender. I surrendered.
All surrender means is that I live in ‘I don’t know’ regarding grief’s agenda and deal with the sadness as it arises. When the perkiness of the holidays grated on me, I attended a wonderful service of remembrance at a local church. The service provided a quiet, safe place for a needed sobfest.
The grief journey led me to decide to leave my home in Denver after 30 years to move east to be closer to mom. I never thought I’d leave Denver. Fortunately my understanding husband is supportive and onboard with this decision.
Another remnant of grief is the 25 pounds I gained after dad died. As I put on those pounds, I felt disconnected from the reason for the weight gain. One day, after the horror of stepping on the scale, I asked “What is this about?” “Dad” was the immediate response.
An intuitive friend sensed the weight reflected protection for the kid in me who felt unsafe in the world without her father. No amount of awareness or dieting seemed to banish the stubborn pounds.
Today, I’ve committed to finding the inner strength to feel safe and connect with the father energy beyond the physical. Today my grief journey enters another phase. That’s what I’m telling myself. We’ll see if my conscious and unconscious grief agendas are aligned. The loss of the protective weight will be an indicator.
What have you learned about the journey of grief?
Forgive me for not acknowledging the anniversary of your father's death sooner, or in a more personal way.
ReplyDeleteSometimes we find ourselves as a passenger on a journey that we neither planned or desired. We all have the ability to accept this new path and learn from it, although not all are willing. You have graciously and bravely pursued this new course and you will reap the benefits. We would all do well to eliminate the blinders in our lives, or perhaps just be conscious of their existance.