One of the good pieces of advice from my dear friend (and teammate at Team Heartbeats) Niek, is to start writing when the going gets tough. In the head of the moment....
I think I'm having one of my hardest days of my life right now. No I don't just think it, I know it for sure. Yesterday I buried my father. I was already part of the group that had lost one of his parents, let's call it Group 1. Quite a few friends around me already belong to that group. Now I belong to one of the few who lost both of them, group 2. I am an orphan.
The great thing is, so being an orphan really doesn't bother me at all. As my sister pointed out in her speech. I'm not alone, I'm all-one. I grew up with all the beautiful and not-so-beautiful traits of my parents in my DNA for a reason from which a nice sauce of my own character and traits has been added. I am made up of these two people. The most beautiful gift they gave during my birth. They brought me into the world. The rest was bonus material. In my case, that was allowed to last 38 years.
I hope that when you read this, you are still in the fortunate position that your parents are alive. And if they are still alive, that they are doing well. That they are still in good spirits and as good as healthy. That the relationship you have with them is okay. Or at least okay for yourself.
So that means you don't belong (yet). We always want to belong somewhere. This is how we are made, to this group I am sure you lovingly do not belong.
Group 1
2.5 years ago my participation in Group 1 started. My mother passed away after being sick for 5 years. She first got lung cancer, overcame that (to what extent that can be a victory) and then deteriorated rapidly from the side effects of radiation treatments. She developed Alzheimer's and became demented. Finally, she died of pneumonia during a flu wave. Thank God. If you ask me, the flu is not always unpleasant. Because dementia; that was the one thing she absolutely did NOT want to become. How many times she said, way before the period of illness; if I become demented then pull the plug. Little did I know that you then have no say in that at all ... terrible thing! So fortunately a heavy flu came along and took her life. She was able to live at home until that moment. A wish both my parents had. With a lot of help, they succeeded.
The first year after my mother's passing was tough. Your brain actually works like it does during pregnancy or burnout. You forget everything, are hyper alert at times and also forget things really completely. A state I have unfortunately possessed almost continuously for 7 years. All first times come around once. You are really not always sad. Quite often not even, but sometimes it overwhelmed me( I can't speak for anyone else) and then it was there in full force, at the most unexpected moments, like lightning. I very consciously made space to grieve, cried, took rest, did therapy. Everything to get those emotions out of my system and move on.
And that huge hangover, that stone in your stomach when you wake up and realize to yourself what happened. "This pain is SO REAL" I heard last week in the song ' immortal' And indeed it is. Compare it to a huge hangover after your worst heartbreak, with a few more scoops on top. I have that hangover today.
Maybe you belong to group 1 and have never experienced it that way. That, of course, is entirely possible. I am speaking from my own experience. Not substantiated by, or delved into any scientific evidence.
Group 2
And then suddenly you belong to Group 2. Don't have parents anymore.
My father had not been healthy for 20 years. So what took 5 years with my mother took 20 years with him. Every time I said goodbye to him it felt like it was the last time. So that also means that a very large part of the grieving started then. And lasted 20 years.
Maybe that's why it feels a lot calmer with me now. Because the worry, which I carried with me every day about my father, that's gone. My phone on sleep mode so I could hear him when I needed to. I don't have to anymore. If I want to and the kids allow it, I can sleep peacefully now.
What I only now realize now that I belong to group 2 is that at the time I was horrified to see the grief in my father. To leave him alone. Somehow it also feels nice that I don't have to see that grief now.
And there I am now. Because geez, how tired I am! Unbearable. Like I've been working through a week. Although I have no idea what that feels like, because I've never done that. But still ... extremely tired. And then in the morning, even before the kids wake up, because I can't get back to sleep. I know that will soon disappear again as the adrenaline wears off.
And should you still be reading now and this happens now in your circle of friends or loved ones; the day after the funeral you need the support the most. And all 52 weeks after. Minimally. Don't think; it's been a while now, so it won't come into play anymore. Or even worse; let's not bring it up. If someone doesn't want to talk about it, they will say so. And CALL. If someone won't answer, leave a message, instead of just condolences or strength. Send a nice memory, or a nice song, or a picture. Something that reminds you of the person. That gets straight to the heart. And I love that!
Other than that, I find group 2 to be mostly a lot of hassle so far, with the house emptying being the biggest bottleneck. I hope to share my experience about group 2 with you a year from now. Until then, I am living in the moment. Is my body and mind made to handle this, my children and the structure they need keep me going, along with the many hugs, the partner I can snuggle up to and the love I am sent. And am looking forward to going back to work in a few weeks. I resolve to take some rest first.
Because in the end, that's how it's supposed to be. Do your parents go first. Am I among those lucky ones where that is the case. Do I hope it takes a very long time, or that I can only write about grade 3 or 4 in a very long time, if ever.
Whatever that may be....
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