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Speaking the Pain I woke up this morning without any real motivation for the day. I stared at the ceiling, then pushed myself out of bed. I felt longing, aching, vacancy. I went downstairs and sat on the couch and read a little. One of the things I read is that if you present yourselves to others as being "alright," they will be comforted and you will turn to stone. What you experience must be felt and acknowledged. So I sat down on the couch, I closed my eyes and just started breathing. Every breath contained pain and loss. I wanted to hear Chloe's footsteps, her voice, her laughter, her hug. I just said what I was feeling, that I felt so sad without her, I didn't know how to make it to the end of this life. Then the tears came. After that I just sat and talked to her. I talked about letting her physical presence go. I said I could let her go but I still needed her in my life. It is hard to be in this place of no control, no power. It just happened and no button I push can bring her back. It's just done. Honesty and tears released the aching from my heart, giving me a renewed motivation for the day.

So this is my second post here, and you guys are great. it really helps and makes me cry but I need that, as Ive been having a hard time crying. Ive been wanting to but they wouldnt leave my eyes. Anyway, I lost my dad almost 3 wks ago and I cannot let go of the face he made right before he passed. Its faded and doesnt sting as much but it still breaks my heart. I held my dads hand all the way until he passed and I know he knew I was there because he squeezed my hand, he was just so drugged on morphine that he couldnt keep his eyes open. I hadnt ever seen my dad cry about him having cancer, the entire 3.5 years but once he found out he had 6 mos, he cried. And all he said was that he was sad to leave me and didnt want to. He finally told me a week before he passed, how miserable he had been. I never realized how hard it must have been on him and he never ever told me how sick he felt and it breaks my heart. I know he did that for me and he didnt want me to worry. I would go to his house crying and he would comfort me and tell me that it would be okay and that i really shouldnt worry. I finally told him that if he needed to go, he could because he had been through enough and he looked miserable. And a week later, he did. I had to drive from my college town to my hometown the night before and I told my mom to make the hospital do everything they could so he wouldnt go before I got there. She told him to hang on and he did. He was awake and the first thing he said when he saw me was that he loved me. fast forward to his last hour. He had been intubated and i elected to have it removed because he was fighting it. Like I said, I know he knew i was there because i was holding his hand and he squeezed it reassuringly. seconds before his last breath, his face crunched up in pain, into what i think was a crying face. it wasnt his normal "in pain" face but it was anguish. It broke my heart and I really want to know what it was. I want to know that he wasnt in physical pain when he died. I feel that he was sad he was leaving me but he needed to. my bishop explained it like this "you know when you are lost and scared and you see your parent and they 'save' you? and you crying because you are relieved? i think he did that because he saw Christ." that really helped me but its forever burned into my mind and i just want to know that he wasnt in agony before he died

Memorial weekend will mark the 6 month mark since Dad's death. A bit of an ironic "holiday" this year I think. As we'll be trying to visit all our other families' graves we'll also be getting ready to have Dad's headstone finally put on the grave. That seems to be like a final marker for me at least-so far all that marks his "spot" is a metal butterfly garden stake I put there & the broken sod; sometimes I could drive to that cemetary to visit other graves & pretend his didn't exist so it must not be true, right? I'd thought I was doing Sooo good with this grief stuff, even thinking that I didn't really need the very mild anti depressant the dr. gave me. Nope. Now I am to the point where I am going to look for a counselor. I have developed a lot of anger towards people since some of my closest friends have shown that they're not good dealing with "people like me"-I STILL keep getting told to "quit talking about your Dad, he's dead. Is there anything really to talk about?" by a "close friend" & co-worker I even considered a brother. He even told me since I came back to work the day after the funeral that it couldn't have been that bad if I came back that soon. Maybe I shouldn't have gone back that week but we depend on every dime & hour of my paycheck. I'm dealing with so much stress & issues at work that there is anger from that. Mom's has declined to the point where we are discussing other living options & knowing that in the next few months we will be selling Mom & Dad's house of almost 50 years & moving her & dealing with that. My only daughter gets married next summer & she wanted her Grandpa there so much-that's the one thing she'd ever dreamed of: dancing with Grandpa at her wedding. She & her fiance even went to the grave [how I have come to HATE that word!] & "told Grandpa we have to do this without him". I WANTED MY DAD THERE to see his favorite grand child walk down that aisle. Even as he recovered from his stroke he'd tell me "I know Allie's going to be a bride someday and I'll be there to walk her down to meet that boy.I promise you." My parents helped me raise her until she was 6 & out of all 18 grandchildren she was his favorite. I still cry every night.I relive that whole last week constantly-I am so afraid I'm forgetting the sound of his voice & the touch of his hand. And I'm angry at myself for not knowing my Dad better when he was alive-I'm learning more about him from my siblings, stuff I never even knew about him & I get so mad at myself for not knowing more-why didn't I push him to talk to me more?!! with me he was quiet & would show me things more & tell me he liked just sitting without saying anything why the hell didn't I make him talk? Why was I so d*** selfish to just accept his not talking?!!!!! I was his last daughter-I should have done more!!!! I don't tell my husband any of this-he has to listen enough to my venting about my job & dealing with Mom's situation. This is MY pain. I just want him back. I want my Mom back to before the dementia invaded her body. I want to hold his hand one more time. And I thought all this grief stuff would be over by now.

I was so proud of myself for getting a handle on my grief over Dad's death a couple months ago. But lately I'm mired down in deep sadness. Lots of tears every night & even at random times such as driving home. Music really sets me off-Dad & Mom loved it. My Mom is still alive but temporarily living with my sisters in Texas until we can decide what to do with her when she gets back north-she has dementia that is progressing quickly. I was a total Dad's girl & he was one of my best friends. I live less than an hour from Mom & Dad; have always lived within a couple hours so I could be in the state in case they needed me since the rest of my sisters live in Texas or Iowa. Even when Mom & Dad would spend winters in Texas I never was sad like this. #1. I knew they would both be back in March. #2 I had both of them. Now I have 1 left & sometimes with Moms' dementia it's like I don't have her either. My grief is all consuming the last few weeks & I HATE IT! I"m a 40-something woman who needs her parents & I really thought I'd be stronger than I am. I hide it all the time, even from my husband, so I don't worry him. And I have to hide it even from close friends because I actually had one tell me to "snap out of it & go get some happy pills. It's been 3 months already. Can't you be more positive?" So guess what? I'm going to go see a doctor & ask for some damn happy pills to make everyone else happy. They won't even let me talk about him because they don't understand it & they think it makes me sad. Yes, I AM SAD. I lost my friggin Father & I have these great memories that I can't even share out loud! A year ago on Valentine's Day I lost my best friend & yes I'm sad about that too. They don't know that every night I go in to take a shower because it's a nice safe place to cry loudly & then come out & smile for everyone since that's what "they" expect to see. I have to admit that as hard as that is to do but I"m probably depressed-something I've never allowed myself to be. Here I thought I was doing so good-oops. I'm hurt & sad & even angry [but not sure why] & I just want them back.