Is this just how it is?

[Clematis]

It's getting close to a year now since my dad died and it is fully a year since he began really declining near the end. I feel like I am skidding towards the edge of a cliff I've fallen over before, but like a recurring nightmare there is nothing I can do to stop it.

A year ago in October I remember trying so hard to save him and hoping fervently that what looked like a downturn was actually a dip from which he would rise.

A year ago in November was his birthday and I wanted so much for him to have a nice birthday, but we had takeout at his house because he wasn't up to going out. I hoped he was just having a bad day. I was in a frenzy to get my sisters to get at least a little involved in creating a nice birthday for him, but they wouldn't do it. Then it was Thanksgiving and we did go out to dinner at a nice restaurant, and my poor dad with his Parkinson's swallowing problems coughed on his pie like he was going to cough up his entire insides and it seemed utterly unbearable. Looking back on it and how they fed him at the rehab hospital, I guess it was outlandish that he was eating pie at that point. But it was Thanksgiving and he wanted pie and I wasn't going to object if he thought he could enjoy some pie.

A year ago in December he was totally falling apart by the end of the month and I was frantic trying to find a solution that didn't exist. He had a series of falls, hospice got involved, he was in and out of this place and that, while I was sure he could get better if he could just hang on until that compression fracture healed.  

But then it was January and he was gone. He had been adamant that he live at home until the end, and it seems like once he got to a place where he was incontinent and couldn't transfer himself, he realized that he couldn't live like that at home and therefore it was the end.

It seems suddenly like I am reliving last year and it seems unbearable because this time I know how the story ends.

I guess it's worse because I am going to be cutting loose of his house sometime soon - probably a short sale - and there is something so terribly final about that. The buyer, Cary, is the uncle of a friend of mine and he promises to flex around what I need in the way of getting things resolved. I really appreciate Cary's assistance and involvement in this transaction, but I feel like I am being crushed. As I get ready to head over the cliff. Again. I hear my dad talking to me all through the day these last few days, but I'm not sure it's really helping. I feel like my life is over, even as I think that is a crazy thought. Or is it? Maybe it's true...

I remember being terrified that my dad would follow my mother to the grave within a year of her passing and was thrilled that he agreed to move to Arizona and continue to live. For a decade! He decided that he had a purpose in living because we had each other. But now I am alone with Lena and I'm not sure what I am living for. Lena, maybe =^. .^=   I'm just not sure why I get out of bed in the morning, other than knowing there are Lucky Charms in the kitchen, of course.

Is this just how it is?

[enna]

“Is this just how it is?”

Oh, dear Laura, what you are going through right now is very normal. You are missing your dad and it is coming up to the one-year mark. What you are experiencing happens to those of us who are nearing an anniversary of a loved one. You are going over all the dreams you had and wishes you wanted for a dad who meant so much to you. It is not unusual for you to be going over so many events at this time. How he must have loved you for all you were doing for him when he needed you at this time in his life.

I know how much the selling of his condo is on your mind. It is as if one more chapter of his life is closing. I wish I could take away your pain but you know it is not possible. Each one of us has to go down the path of grief. What we can do is let you know that you are not doing this alone. We are with you and will be with you on this journey. This is a good time to remember that the feelings you are experiencing are coming from a deep love you have for your dad. You have every right to feel “crushed.”

Later, you will start to focus on all those good memories you and your dad shared. Take yourself out into nature and do some painting. I know this helps because I found it healing when I would sit and do the colorings I began after my Jim died. We never really know what helps us on this journey but gradually some of those painful memories will turn to the good memories. Lena is your sweet companion for now. You get out of bed each morning because you have a love of what is beautiful in nature. Focus on your breathing as you allow yourself to feel what is going on. Your thoughts are okay. Don’t run from them. You will always miss your dad but the pain will not always be as deep. My Jim was a dessert eater. He loved dessert ~ any kind. I remember the sparkle in his eyes when I’d be helping him eat and I told him I had chocolate pudding. His eyes lit up. That memory of your dad eating pie even though it was hard for him could put a smile on your face knowing how much he wanted it.

It’s one step in front of the other. It’s one day at a time. It’s going forward no matter how slow that will get us through this journey none of us want to be on.

When you gave me the origami dove last Saturday it meant so much to me. My Jim was a bird lover. He could make so many bird sounds. You get out of bed every morning because of those Lucky Charms or perhaps because there will be something you do that day that will put a smile on someone’s face. We never know, do we?

Anne

[kayc]

Laura,

Reality has set in.  Yes, this is how it is...for now.  It takes so much time and effort to be able to create that "new normal" (that phrase I used to hate but now I understand).  It takes time to find purpose and even then it doesn't seem as great as it did then.  Yes I also have Arlie and Kitty for my incentive to get up and do it all over again another day...and I worry about what will keep me going when they're gone.  There is something special about mattering to someone, even if that someone is a cat or a dog.  But to matter to your dad...or me to my George, that was beyond wonderful.

You have been a wonderful daughter to him.  and yes, I would have let him try eating the pie too.  I have a sister who chokes on everything, we try to accommodate her and remind her she can't just drink a coke, she needs thickener, so we help her with milkshakes, getting a child's glass with a lid so she can handle it and wide straws so she can suck it through.  You hate telling them "No" when they're adults, but sometimes we have to and sometimes we let them try.  But to my sister, when she aspirates into her lungs, she gets Pneumonia and it can kill her, so many times we've gone through this, so we have to be firm.  But for your dad with Parkinson's, I'd let him try.

The Condo is just a condo...and yet to you it's something more...it's a connection to a piece of your dad, and it makes you feel like you're losing him all over again with this sale.  You will get through this.  Try to remind yourself it's just a building, it's not your dad, your dad has been gone for months and yet in a way he's never gone, because he lives on inside of you.

 

[Clematis]

Thank you, my friends, for your kind words and thoughtfulness.

2 hours ago, kayc said:

Yes, this is how it is...for now...

That is what I was afraid of.

 

7 hours ago, enna said:

...what you are going through right now is very normal...

I was hoping that this was some temporary twist. I've heard a lot about how things get worse at a year. Being rather concrete I was hoping that things would keep feeling better until mid January, which would be a year. But we're heading into the holidays, my dad's birthday, and the anniversary of his final decline. Saying goodbye to his house is also daunting. I took care of his house for about six months after he bought it and painted his garage, which was bare drywall and concrete. Then there were the ten years together, in which he would slip a little and then pull himself back up, but never quite to where he was. When he went into the rehab hospital his doctor said that he would be stronger than he had been in years and even though I know there was a lot of hope in that statement, I was greatly encouraged. Then the hospital staff had a meeting with my dad and me and everyone involved in his care; they were telling me that he was not getting stronger - the opposite was happening. He had given up and 12 hours later he was gone.

It's funny - every time I say, write, or even think those words "he's gone", I hear him say to me, "I'm not gone - I'm right here". I know he's trying to help me, but it sure feels like he is gone.

Back to his house. Maybe he's not gone, but he sure isn't down at his house eating pudding. I keep walking down there, collecting the mail, watering the flowers, and looking for things that may or may not be there. More and more I feel him with me on these little trips. Monday I went down there hoping I'd find a ream of paper, since mine was gone and I had stuff to print. No paper, and I could feel my dad's disappointment that he had no paper to give me. It felt like the end of the book The Giving Tree, in which the tree sadly declares at the end, "I have nothing left to give". Of course, in the book and for me that is far from the truth. I hope he doesn't feel that way. I'll miss all those trips down to his house, even if the only thing I bring back is memories and tears.

[iPraiseHim]

Yes, Laura.  Enna  and KayC explained what we are going through very well. I had hopes that this grief would lessen or become "more Normal" or I would just get used to it.  When I found out that after the first year there is another level of grief that we can go through I was shocked and disappointed.  Every time I needed to close an account or deal with something else that reminds me that my beloved is not here is another reminder. 

You have also been very busy with getting your fathers home cleaned up and dealing with your car accident and the physical aftermath. .  There is just a lot to deal with.  It is tough and life is full of challenges.

I question too what is my purpose now for my life.  This second year is more of me adjusting myself to the reality in my heart and mind that my wife has passed.  Logically I know it, but the heart takes a long time to adjust and accept it. 

My purpose for now is to help my sister, my Dad, and who I can here and in my circle of life to help someone else.  You take care of Lena and she also cares for you. 

We all have a purpose and I sense you will discover yours.  We are not alone. Our stories may be a little different but we share a common grief and a special insight to life that most people are unaware to face and deal with.  Peace be with you (Shalom) - George

[kayc]

I spoke with a neighbor State Trooper that recently retired and he said yesterday he feels lack of purpose and although he doesn't miss work, he hasn't figured out what to fill his days with either.  I think that's not unlike losing someone, minus the missing them part, it takes a while to fill our lives and find some purpose.  And it doesn't happen overnight.  For me it took years to create a life for myself that was acceptable and even then I get lonely and always always I miss George.

As George mentioned his purpose I was reminded of how often our purpose changes...part of my purpose is being here for my animals, but someday they will be gone and I'll have to find other purpose.  I think this is something we continually work at.

When I was raising kids I didn't feel this way, but growing old alone, it's a very different phase.

[Clematis]

22 hours ago, iPraiseHim said:

...You take care of Lena and she also cares for you...

Lena has been extra attentive lately. If I call her she comes running and she is spending more time close to me, napping close by and that sort of thing. It's really sweet; she knows I need her more than ever right now. I'm lucky to have her!  =^. .^=

 

[Clematis]

15 hours ago, kayc said:

...When I was raising kids I didn't feel this way, but growing old alone, it's a very different phase.

I know what you mean - it's hard looking at growing old alone with no family. On the other hand, I can't be certain what the future may bring and I want to be in as good a condition as I can be for whatever it is. I don't want to have neglected myself in some way that would make me unable to have choices if they present themselves. Meanwhile, I have Lena and it makes such a difference to have her companionship and love. And isn't she gorgeous?

[kayc]

That's a beautiful picture of her!  She sure lucked out when she got YOU as an adoptive parent!  

[Clematis]

1 minute ago, kayc said:

That's a beautiful picture of her!  She sure lucked out when she got YOU as an adoptive parent!  

Thanks! We were both very lucky to have found each other!

[kayc]

I agree!

[Clematis]

Lena is very photogenic. I also have a trick or two. I try to get the lighting right and get a good background without too much clutter. I get the camera ready and say "chicken". It's her favorite food and she looks right at me. Also, my condo is kind of dark, even in the daytime, so her big round eyes almost always look dilated and dramatic. I especially love this photo - she looks very lovey and trusting.

My dad's condo is much sunnier and better lit - and also much warmer - I think it was probably good for me to be in there for the first six months after he died, and during last winter when everything seemed so cold. But in Arizona, even at 4500 feet in Sedona, the heat is more dominant than the cold. So I have always liked my cool little cave. And now, added to its coolness I have all this blue...my mother's paintings (lots of blue), my dad's stuff, the blue Persian rug, and the blue carpet I had put in to tie it all together.

I'm getting a little more used to it, but I am not really using the whole house. Kind of an odd statement for a condo that is less than 900 sq ft, but it's true. I sleep in the small bedroom and only go into the bigger bedroom to get my clothes. I have yet to sleep in the bed - even with its fabulous new mattress - and I'm not sure why - because it still seems like my dad's bed? I'm still sleeping in the cozy little day bed that I was sleeping in at my dad's house when he died. I also only use 1/3 of the great room - the dining table area, where I eat, use the computer and write my reports. The other end of the room, with my dad's chair and all of the other nice furniture - well, I walk through it to go water the plants out back and that's it. In the back of my mind I still think I'm going to walk into those rooms and find things in pieces of furniture that I no longer own. It's like it's not my house. My house is gone and in its place is this strange place that looks about like a mirror image of my dad's house, and of course it's within the same walls where I have lived for 11 years.

[kayc]

It will feel like that until you begin to use it and make it yours.  I only use the living room, family-room-turned-into-craft/computer-room, kitchen, master bathroom.  I just pass through my bedroom to get to the bathroom or grab clothes, once in a while sew.  I don't use the dining room or spare bedrooms anymore, they are full of the kids' stuff from years gone by.  My house if 1,440 but I probably use half to two thirds of it.  

You've mentioned your dad's house had light and it was good for you, have you considered putting in lights in your house that help combat depression and elevate mood?  I've seen people use them in their offices.

[Clematis]

7 hours ago, kayc said:

... but I probably use half to two thirds of it.  

You've mentioned your dad's house had light and it was good for you, have you considered putting in lights in your house that help combat depression and elevate mood?  I've seen people use them in their offices.

It seems to me like only using part of one's house would be a phenomena only for people who had really big houses, but I guess not. Not just me, huh? I think I really pushed myself through sorting through my dad's and my stuff, fixing up my place, and moving back in way too fast because I was worried about the timeline. Then I was dealing with the head injury and working (probably too much) for the past few months. I feel like I have been saving little packets of my grief to deal with later, sealing them up intact and taking them up to my place or saving untouched pockets of my dad's stuff at his place until November when I'm working less and maybe will be better able to deal with it. 

I have thought about adding lights. The master bedroom is very well lit, especially in the early day, as is the hall leading to it with its skylight. The great room is dark but has a deep shelf you can see on the left here and that big arch leading to the hallway. I have thought of putting LED rope lights up there to add some light. But I may have to wait until I have some idea where my next income is coming from.

 

[kayc]

You have a nice place!

[Clematis]

3 hours ago, kayc said:

You have a nice place!

Thank you - it is very nice. It's kind of hard to believe...

[Clematis]

Lena is such an amazing therapy cat. She went to work this afternoon and one of the women she sees may be near her end and was having a bad day in a number of ways, like some feverish delirium. She was saying, "I want to go home", which I've never heard her say, and she slapped the aide at one point. She obviously wasn't herself.

Lena usually lies on this woman's bed near her but almost out of reach and often sort of facing away. But today it was different; Lena was lying very close to her and looking at her carefully. When we got there, the woman was complaining of being hot, which was easy to understand, since the late afternoon sun was shining full onto her bed. I closed the blinds but she still wasn't right. She looked flushed and was warm to the touch. I got the aide, he took her temp and said she was fine. I told him Lena didn't think the woman was fine and he gave it another look and went to get the nurse, who tended to her more carefully, and she started to cool off and act more normally.

Meanwhile Lena lay in the crook of her arm facing her, stretching her front paw across the woman's belly. They both closed their eyes and seemed to doze off for a bit. After a while they both roused, Lena turned her back on the woman, who said it was ok to take her away at that point, to go see another person, and so we did. It was very sweet watching Lena working with someone who really needed her help. 

 

[kayc]

That is really cool!  She must be really in tune with others.

[MartyT]

I wonder if Lena sensed that this woman was close to death, Laura. It's interesting that she was saying that she wanted "to go home." Aren't animals just amazing in their ability to "see" and know what we cannot?  ♥

[Clematis]

2 hours ago, MartyT said:

I wonder if Lena sensed that this woman was close to death, Laura. It's interesting that she was saying that she wanted "to go home." Aren't animals just amazing in their ability to "see" and know what we cannot?  ♥

I think you're right, Marty, that Lena may have been sensing that. To me, one of the interesting things about Lena yesterday is that the young aide had a minimal response to my concern about this woman's condition, but when I pointed out to him that Lena was concerned about her, he promptly got the nurse, who after arriving told me that this woman may be "going home" soon. So they believe she is somewhere near her end, but how did Lena figure that yesterday was different? She has been seeing this woman for five months.

There is a great book called "Making Rounds With Oscar" about a cat living in an advanced dementia unit, who could predict within a few hours that a patient was near the end. When Oscar curled up with someone, the staff got on the phone and told the family to come right away. I figured that Oscar had a lot of opportunity to learn that because he lived where he did. I have only once before seen Lena with someone very near the end, and she did the same thing - curled up very close and closed her eyes. Lena doesn't live in a place like Oscar - she spends an hour a week there. But she seems to have figured out the same thing - I suppose by instinct. Animals are amazing...

[MartyT]

I'm familiar with that book, Laura, and with so many similar stories. Yes, animals are amazing, and I think we've only just begun to recognize their unique and mysterious abilities, much less to understand them. They are so much more spiritually advanced than we are.  ♥

[Clematis]

I think you're right Marty. It has occurred to me that it is not that Oscar or Lena is that extraordinary and that most -maybe all- cats have great untapped potential, and it is not so much a matter of out training them but our developing an awareness and ability to understand what they are communicating. The biggest thing I have done for Lena is desensitization so that she can tolerate situations where she can "work her magic" rather than hiding somewhere.

[kayc]

I think you're right. 

[Clematis]

I saw my friend Paula, the retired vet, last night at orchestra rehearsal and we were talking about that. Paula commented that what I had done by way of the desensitization was to give Lena confidence and "confidence is the best thing you can give a cat". 

Paula also said that I was looking much better - that I looked like myself and my color was back. That was nice to hear. I think it's definitely a plus that I was finally able to get back to exercising.