Thank you all for yesterday. The words of support are what I needed but was struggling to hear from the people closer to home. I went home after work last night and spent the evening with my brother and mother. We moved him, gave him his meds. I made some very sticky sweet passive aggressive calls to hospice - because honestly - they have been awful and my mother couldn’t handle it anymore & I have extensive experience being perky and sweet - so much you would stick to the fucking floor while I mentally murder you.
Turns out. It didn’t matter. Since he was stable, both my brother and I said good bye to our parents and left for work. Five minutes after he looked at my mother, tried to talk (what I can only project was “I love you.”) And stopped. To those of you suggesting he may have been waiting for us to leave, you were probably right. Though its hard to know.
Just something I was thinking about:
- He was the four time winner of best mustache for the Elks Beard-O-Reno.
- He loved his plants - his garden was his pride and joy. We moved to a town with no infrastructure so he could have an acre. There is infrastructure sort of now. But the acre remains
- There are so many things around the house and garden we don’t know how to do. He was going to write them all down for us.
- He was sardonic and ironic and wry and I got his sense of humor
- He loved West Side Story - we literally watched it on AMC every time
- He was the only blonde my mom dated and the only one they married
- They loved each other so much.
- He was a dork who liked dancing disco around the house and singing Beatles more questionable songs.
- Again I post Can’t Keep It in - its an artist that my whole family enjoys and this song is one that I love and associate with my parents and their love.
This is not my most...coherent post. But I know that’s okay. I am going to try to process this as best I can. But first I am going to force myself to get through this work day - because that’s what he would have done. And I can’t face anymore friends and family right now guilting me or critiquing my grieving process.