It's been a few months now, since my Father died. Sometimes I still think I haven't fully absorbed the sense of shock. It sometimes hits me: That Happened.
And sometimes, it feels like I've absorbed it fully, and have moved through several of the 'stages' you hear about: sadness, anger, confusion, whatever.
My point is that it's surprising how mixed up all of these passing emotions are. They appear in no predictable order for me, and they don't necessarily resolve before giving way to something else.
My anger of the past few weeks has given way to a sense of hollow sadness, and horrible pain when I remember the sights and sounds of the hospital. Even though they are in the past now, they hurt me much more than they did when I was actually in there. I guess it's that way for everyone. You focus on getting through the thing you're navigating. You keep your head above water. When you're done, it all hits you.
I wonder if it feels more momentous to me than it does to others? I wonder if I'm going through all the run of the mill stuff that everyone goes through. That's what I told myself again and again during the weeks and months when he was ill and dying. Everyone faces this at some point. Most people lose their parents. Everyone goes through this. I'm just going through it now. It's not a big deal. It's all totally normal.
It is. But it is also lonely and frightening and confusing, because no one talks about it. What is normal? How do you know you're okay? How do you know if something is too much?
I am in a state of 'functioning' grief. I have relatively regular days and I sleep through the night. But what about that time that I got so angry I nearly passed out with giddiness? Was that too much anger? What about the time the Man hugged me and I couldn't stop crying? Is it okay that for weeks at a time I don't - can't - cry at all?
And here's the question I kind of keep returning to: Does it matter? To me? To anyone? Is all this important? Yes, whispers my intuition. And no.
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