Day 30 A Slice of Sorrow
We lost our dad one year ago today. It’s hard not to think of those last few days and how incredibly hard they were. Although he did not die from Covid, Covid made his dying infinitely more complicated. I wasn’t allowed in the hospital until his status changed to hospice/terminal (at which point he was nonverbal). My sister couldn’t fly in to say goodbye. My sons couldn’t fly or drive in to say goodbye either. Instead I sat by his side (and I was lucky I got to do even that) holding the phone to his ear as people said their goodbyes. So. Hard.
The days after that were complicated, too. The “funeral” consisted of more staff than mourners. We facetimed during the funeral and the grave site mini-service. No food. No hugs. No shared stories. No going through his things, touching, laughing, crying and remembering as you do so. We picked up all his items that the staff at his assisted-living facility packed up and left on the back dock for us.
It’s hung with me all day.
And that’s how it should be. We who are left remember those who are gone. We are how they live on, in our hearts, our memories and the lessons we learned from them. I know this. I believe this.
And yet, it’s hard.
Thanks for sitting with me and “listening”. I needed to write this today.