Clematis

I'm so sorry, Rylee. It's really hard. In the beginning I think all you can do is get through it, take care of yourself, and lean on the people who are close to you. When my father died, I had a lot of times when I felt like I couldn't breathe and couldn't swallow. Keep us posted on how you are doing, ok?

Rylee, I'm so sorry. I've been thinking about you and wondering how it was going because it sounded like it would be any day that she would be gone. It'll be hard. Take care of yourself-eat, sleep, drink water, take care of what you have to and no more right now. Keep reminding yourself that you did everything for her. She wanted to go home and die at home and you helped her do that. So now, take care of you. Be careful walking so you don't fall. Be careful driving-and don't even drive if you don't have to. Try to remember where you left your purse, keys, credit cards, etc, so you don't lose stuff. In the beginning, it's one step at a time through an arduous path and you're starting off exhausted. So please take care of yourself and be careful, ok? -Laura

I went to my aunt's memorial service in West Virginia, along with all of her kids-our favorite cousins and their kids and my sisters. So we sat through the service and that was all ok, and then there was a reception with a lot of food and I couldn't swallow because I was sitting there and couldn't stop crying. My sisters got me to get a plate of food but I couldn't swallow from crying. Afterwards, I was starving and my sisters explained to me that that is what all the food is about at a funeral-that it's supposed to make you feel better. I thought that was rather inconvenient timing for all that crying because I was hungry and had missed the food. I learned to cry silently when I was a child and to hide it because my mother would punish me for crying. I thought everyone cried in total silence until a therapist told me that this was not the case. My mother was really awful-sadistic really,-as in Sybyl's mother, and it was a rough place to grow up because she was-well just narcissistically cruel-and I got the worst of it. Psychological torture is about it, but now I try to not be so negative and now just say that she was a total narcissist. But she certainly didn't want to feel bad for torturing her children until they cried, and so crying was taboo. You had to be pretty sneaky about it if you were going to cry. When she died 11 years ago, I cried a few times a little, when I first heard, when I saw her casket come out of the hearse, and when I spoke at her gravesite. Mostly I was relieved that she was gone. Our ritual for her when I visit PA every few years is that my older sister go out to the cemetery and play music on her grave. Kind of like what they do in Mexico, communing with the dead on Dia de los Muertos, except it's just the two of us. Once my father was there and he watched us play music. But with my dad it's totally different but I think it's partly the history. When we were kids he sometimes had a bad temper, but mostly he was this silent little satellite around my mother and whatever she wanted. He never talked, unless it was something no one wanted to hear. And then after she was in the hospital and then gone, I saw him alone for himself as the person he really was-without her-and I was astonished. Like, who is this nice man and where has he been all my life? I worked really hard at coaxing him out to AZ, but looking back on it, it was actually rather easy. My sisters didn't believe that he could have changed that much and wanted no part of him. He certainly couldn't stay in a split-level house alone with Parkinson's. So out he came, and was here for ten years, during which he just got nicer and nicer. Since the first day he arrived in AZ, people always said the same thing about him, "Oh I just love your dad-he's such a sweet man!" In the beginning I was surprised, even though I had just coaxed him out there. "Who, him? Sweet?" But he really was. So, I had him to myself for ten years, during which he was a fabulous father and friend to me. What I got from him during those ten years is really the only decent time of parenting any of the three of us got in our entire lives. And now it's all gone. Sometimes I feel like I will get to some point where I might start crying and never stop, but so far it's mostly been like leaking. I did a lot of therapy years ago so that I could get to a point where I could function and cried a LOT during that. I also gave my father hell for a few years, and then spent a few years trying to make friends with him after telling him how my childhood had been ruined. There was no telling my mother anything-it would have been a suicide mission to approach her about anything. Maybe I'm mostly done crying. I have no idea what is to come. When I was a young adult I was a mess, a lot of dissociation, PTSD, depression, anxiety/worry, and a significant speech problem-a stammer born out of terror that I resolved myself by just forcing myself to continue talking. I would lose pieces of time if confronted in the least bit and have no clue what had been going on. But I forced myself to go back until I could remember what happened. Eventually it got better and I no longer lost time, and was able to maintain an thread of memory through anything. It was a huge accomplishment, but I didn't get any awards for it. The stronger and healthier I became, the more I was scapegoated by my mother. When she died, my sisters took over for her. But I had my dad and he thought I was wonderful, and told me and everyone around that he thought so. And now he's gone and I'm supposed to...I don't know...do what? Start crying and never stop? Or just get up in the morning and drive to the reservation to do art therapy with some kids who have really been through it...

I think it's totally variable even inside oneself. I have been devastated by my father's death, but not crying like as in sobbing, which I certainly have done in the past under different circumstances. It's been more like little bits here and there constantly. Mostly I have felt flattened and numb, sometimes terrified of the future. It's spring and there has been a lot of pollen and wind, which often gives me tearing in the eyes from allergies. Sometimes I can't tell if I'm having allergies or still crying from before or if I've just started crying again, but I don't really care unless I'm at work or something and trying to pull myself together. It's never copious weeping, more like a little seeping here and there. Maybe I'm leaking, but most of the past four months I don't really care. It's almost like I have been too flattened to really cry-there is just this leaking that goes on.

I saw that about Bentley- very sad. He looks beautiful and sounds like he was a wonderful dog. Yeah, an animal has to have a certain disposition to be a therapy animal. It's hard to understand, especially in a cat, but they have to want to help people. Lena somehow figured out right away what she was supposed to do, and she gravitates toward people who need her the most. She has no time for anger, but if someone is sad or suffering, she is right there. I have no idea how she does it-it's like she is a pure radio-wave detector for emotion. You can fake emotions and fool a person but not a cat or a dog! Lena also does tricks, which entertains people. But her best crowd pleaser is when I take her off someone's bed or lap or whatever, she looks at me like "Just who are you and what do you think you're doing?", and cries pathetically at being taken away from this person, as if it were breaking her little heart. I even feel badly, but it's part of the gig-whoever is there who wants to visit with the cat gets to. At the assisted living place there is a long sofa so that she can recline in the middle on her special plush cushion with a person on each side of her so two people can pet the cat at once. It's very sweet.

Lena and I just got back from her job as a therapy cat. She has been going to an assisted living facility for 2-1/2 years and she seems to love it as much as the residents do. About six weeks ago, we added on another location-the skilled nursing facility where my dad spent 5 days between Christmas and New Years. This was a 5-day respite for me, provided by hospice. Lena and I both visited -like every day at least once- when my dad was there, and a number of residents there were so thrilled to see a visiting cat-we would tour around a bit and the residents were so happy to see a cat there! I didn't go back immediately, but I guess at four months it's still rather soon. The residents are always thrilled to see Lena, but it makes me sad, and Lena always sticks her head in the door of the room where my dad was. The guy who is in there is not a cat-lover and so we don't go in, but she always checks...

I agree-I don't think it's a big deal-or a new one...we should move on. I think this is a wonderful group and I am relieved that no one wants me gone from it because it has been of great comfort to me.

Gwen, please do not worry about this. I don't think it was or is a big deal-I really don't. You are not being crucified-or going to be. I believe that you are a good-hearted person and have shown great depth of caring and compassion to people on this site-you are definitely an asset here. I wrote to Marty to figure out how to handle it, because I was hurt by being questioned about my posting. I didn't immediately put it on the forum and/or identify you because I didn't want to hurt you. I believe we are all in a fragile state due to grieving. I was worried that maybe people didn't want me around, and that would make me feel badly if it were true-but it's not true. Marty provided good information about what is meant here by the words "significant other" and reiterated what is written in the Guidelines about posting wherever one feels comfortable. I appreciate your response-that you were not challenging me or implying that I should leave. I think it might be best to consider it a misunderstanding and move on, ok? -Laura

I want to read this book, Kay-The Hidden Life of Trees-when it comes out...

Yeah-those cars are cruisers-very cush and powerful. I cent remember what kind of car it was, but my great aunts used to have a grey car they called "Mousie" and my dad was always making remarks and snorts because Mousie had a big V-8 and a powerful car. Mousie.... hahaha I asked my dad's car what its name was and promptly got the answer "Bob". Alright then! Hi Bob!

We are all free to roam all over-it says so right in the Guidelines! I have been roaming all over since I started, and there others who do the same. Seems like a lot of the roamers are offering support all over more than talking primarily about their own issues. And some people stay put in one spot. There is not a specific spot for "geriatrics", but you could start a topic...Do people over 80, (or over 70, or whatever) grieve differently than others? I bet you would get a lot of answers. Maybe people do grieve differently at different ages... I think children grieve differently but I don't know. I have talked to a lot of kids about this since my dad died and I have no conclusions. It seems different, but maybe what I am looking at is partly is grief for a very isolated person who has lost a parent vs. a person (who happens to be a child) who has lost a parent, but who is still living in a close-knit tribe and shares a room with 3 to 5 other people? I started that topic about Voices From The Beyond, and got a lot of responses. And another one about how I miss sharing my art with my dad...that's rather specific, but several people have looked at it and said nice things about my art, and that made me feel good.

My thanks and appreciation to all of you for your responses to my posts last night. The support really warms my heart. Someone had sent me a pm asking me why I was posting on this forum when I had not lost a spouse. I answered with an explanation (probably somewhat defensive) and the response was, "It was just a simple question". Well, I don't think taking someone off alone and essentially challenging them is not a simple question. I think the pm is a fabulous feature. It allows someone who doesn't feel comfortable sharing in the forum to still be able to find support by chatting alone. It is also good for a bit of something private to be shared between people who trust each other. It shouldn't be used to challenge someone and maybe chase them off, and no one will see. It's not nice, but it's not a big deal either. Marty asked me to take it to the forum-if I felt comfortable with this-so that it could be discussed in the open. I think she's right. Secrets can fester under shelter that would evaporate out in the open. Also, I believe in working things out. It's what I do. I believe that unconditional positive regard is the bedrock upon which a site like this rests. You accept and support the person for who they are, regardless of what they do or say. Marty urges us to do this-and if we do not like what someone does or says, ignore it. I totally agree. Also, I'm very happy to hear that people like having me here!

My friend keeps referring to it as "the Lincoln" When I asked her what she meant she said well it's only a couple details away from being a Lincoln town car and that's why it's such a great car. The mechanic and the tire guy both told me that the engine in that car is used for police cars and limousines...it's rather different than my Corolla but I like it – I'm going to keep it

Thanks, it's true-I do. It's been a long day. I drove my dad's car to Cottonwood-his beloved Mercury Grand Marquis that used to be my mother's car...and now it's mine. People keep telling me that I should sell it, but my Corolla has almost 300,000 miles on it! Having a backup with 90,000 miles that only costs me $40 a month is rather appealing. But I haven't driven it that much yet...and I don't know...maybe it will always seem like my dad's car. Anyway, it gave me another wave, driving the car.

I apologize for the length of my last post, and if it seems somewhat defensive, it is. I was queried in a pm by a member as to why I was posting in the "Loss of a Spouse" forum since I lost my dad and not my spouse. I had felt there was actually a lot of commonality between myself and others in this forum, and it seemed that people were genuinely supportive of me and my loss-from their hearts. This has been a healing presence to me and a big part in why I no longer feel AloneAndLost. I felt hurt, shocked, and humiliated to receive this query by pm, and it made me wonder if maybe other people wished me to not post in this forum. I was afraid that maybe I was bothering and upsetting a lot of people by posting in a forum that was not for me. I wasn't sure what to do about it, bit I don't feel that the purpose of the site is to reject people who are already grieving, send them packing, and/or make them feel horribly. And so I was confused and I asked Marty what to do, She responded most eloquently at the start of this topic, and among other things explained what is meant here by "significant other", which is very broad and inclusive. I certainly don't wish to be a problem to anyone, diminish anyone's feelings or situation by making comparisons or making even implicit false claims. My only desire is to accept the love and support that has - rather amazingly - been offered to me, and to reciprocate by doing anything I can, anywhere I can to ease the suffering of others by contributing what I can.

I really appreciate Marty's post and all the information that was in it, particularly the clarification about "significant other". The loss that has left me staggering, feeling like I am in free fall, anguishing over my purpose in life, and feeling overall lost and totally isolated was the loss of my dad, for whom I had cared for ten years at an increasing level. My sisters have deserted me-aside from some criticism, and the entire burden of dealing with his estate and his possessions falls upon me, just like his care fell upon me when he was alive. I live alone with a cat. The person who loved me unconditionally and had my back no matter what happened is gone. The person with whom I processed everything with at the end of the day, consulted with, planned with, dined with, called for in my emergencies, was called on to help in his emergencies, my ever ready companion, the person with whom I did practically everything with except work and music rehearsals, my biggest fan, my safety net, and my best friend to whom I could and did tell everything--he's gone. I think that's rather significant, and the loss has been devastating. When my father moved out west ten years ago to live near me, he was "just my dad" but in the course of ten years things changed as we became more interdependent. He liked to buy stuff he saw on TV and he always bought two-one for him and one for me. We went on two cruises and shared a cabin with two beds. What else would we have done? We were partners through a phase in our lives-a pair...people expected to see us together. More and more toward the end he deferred to me on all kinds of things. If he had a new prescription or had come up with some new supplement, he wanted to know what I thought about it. If I had strong feelings against it, he wouldn't take it. He always talked about "we" and what we should do, even when he was really referring to himself. He would talk about whether "we" should help my sister, even though it was really his money. At the very end he spent several days in the hospital and was rather confused in the last day or two-he thought I was staying upstairs. On his last afternoon I tried desperately to get hold of my sister, calling her over and over with no response or return. I finally decided he should leave her a message, got her voicemail and held the phone in front of him. He started talking about how "we"were going on a journey. I really think he was talking about his final journey, and he thought I was going with him! His loss has left a huge hole in my life and I am alone. I think this is something that is familiar to all of you here and I hear similar things when you write about what you have and are now experiencing. I have felt enormously less crazy and much less alone since I have been on the site. I feel like I have some company on this path that I never chose. My loss is not exactly the same as anyone else's, and I doubt there are any two people - even here - who have exactly the same loss. But there sure are a lot of common threads in deep grieving, and the companionship is soothing... I really LOVE this place!

Do you really? I never thought of that! I guess it makes sense that if he can see the airbag icon and the low gas alert lights in the car and remind me to take care of these things, he could see my art and the concert as well. I never thought about it... Thanks! That's a nice thing to think about

Thank you! My dad did enjoy my art and he liked hearing about it. He had been well trained by my mother, who was not only an artist and did her own painting, but also led him on a tour through some of the best museums in Europe. He was a foreign patent attorney and traveled a lot-but the company only paid his airfare. They were both thrilled when they got to a point where he could take her with him on some of his trips. So he became comfortable with viewing and talking about art. He was also always interested in what I was thinking or why it was important to me, which was nice. It's good to be painting again...I was afraid I was so paralyzed that I wouldn't be able to do it, and if I stopped for too long I would totally "lose my chops". These are from last weekend and simple small paintings, but I don't think I've forgotten everything...

Here it is, Kay...This was our community orchestra's program cover for the year, which we completed at a concert last night. Last summer I was in Hawaii and met a biologist who researches insect evolution. He told me that he was currently researching how Luna moths evolved so that they can twirl their long tails as they fly. This motion confuses the bat and so the bat goes for the tail, rather than the head or vital organs. In the painting you can see that the tails are moving around and not sitting rigid. The moonflower is one of the luna moth's "host" flowers. Also in the painting is my favorite cello, Mr Cello, and his "girlfriend" Hildy the bass behind him. I wonder where Hildy is now because her owner/player Tim suddenly died at the age of 46 in November. Anyway, Lena is in the center; she represents the audience and you can see that the music coming off the strings is getting to her ears...

I miss sharing my art-and everything else with my dad. Today was the last day of my ceramics class and so we had our pieces there for the final critique. It would have been fun to share them with my dad; he would have liked them. Lena was not particularly impressed with them

I am trying so hard to get through this without falling over or making mistake, and it's just not working. I just seem to keep screwing up something... I was supposed to submit my monthly billing earlier today but It was late because I was focused on playing the cello in this concert tonight in which we played Roses From The South, a Strauss waltz, as a tribute to my dad. It was all very lovely and then I realized my billing was late by a few hours... Dang! Problem is, I was never perfect, even before I fell into the pit of grief. Why does anyone think anyone is-or should be- perfect? Why do I keep thinking that? Especially now!

Marg, that is sad that your son has had such a hard way to go. It is difficult being an artist.There are very few who can make a living at it. Some teach-and their focus becomes their students' work, some do commercial art-and have no energy or time for their own work, some abandon it altogether for another field that pays-that sucks, and some try to make a living at it and end up starving artists. I didn't want to give up my art, but son't want to starve either... I got this idea that I would work in the schools-as a school psychologist and would have summers off and other vacations during which to develop my art so that I could rally work on it when I retired. I hope I really can do that. I liked what you said about someone's art being like their kids... What were your son's paintings like?

I know what you mean-people have all these ideas and some of it is ridiculous, given what is actually going on in my life and my head. People try to be helpful, but sometimes you just wish they had kept their mouth shut. But you don't want to just say that. One of my favorite stories about my mother painting was that she was out painting the light falling across a pond and someone came up to her, watched for awhile and commented, "You should put a duck in it!" She was interested in the light falling across the pond and did not want any input. It made her really mad, but became a family joke for unwanted input..."You should put a duck in it!" regardless of the subject matter... My former beloved painting teacher Patty, who died of metastatic cancer in the last year, said something rather profound (and news to me) at a critique at the end of a painting class. Someone said something about one of my paintings that I thought was really dumb. Patty looked at me scrunching up my face, and the other person, who started backpedaling and apologizing, and she said, "Don't worry-Laura has a really good filter!" I guess there was a long history of my taking Patty's input and picking through what she said, the assignments and everything else, and plucking out what I liked. Also, I learned that a good way to avoid input when painting in public is to wear headphones and an iPod or some device, conspicuously placed. It is not on, but I use it to ignore people, unless they really get in my face and yell at me. I have a friend who is about the sweetest warmest person I have ever met, and I was asking her one time how she did this, and she said, "Oh, whenever someone asks or tells me something I don't want to hear, I just act like what I heard them say is something that I DO want to answer or respond to, smile, and go on with enthusiasm"...