Wednesday, March 19, 2014

The Processing Begins Now

I am sitting here this morning like I have done every morning since I started this blog and I want so desperately to write but I can't seem to be able to. The fact of the matter is, I am now so overcome with grief about the loss of my daddy and I can't see my way past it. I think I was somewhat in denial about losing my daddy because it's only been in the last couple of days that my life has come to a halt and I stand in the middle of rooms unable to get myself to do anything but hold my head in my hands and cry.

The day he passed I got "the call" at 3:51pm and it came from an unknown number and I almost didn't answer it. When I did someone said my name and then paused. That pause seemed like it lasted forever. Then I said, "What?" and the woman finally spoke and identified herself and told me how sorry she was but that my daddy had passed away. I felt my heart and mind crash to the ground slamming into something solid that I don't know what that was. I know now that is was my world coming to an end. The next thing out of her mouth was, "are you with your mom?" and I knew then that I had to suck up every ounce of everything I had, my strength, my rationality, my ability to move and I needed to get to my mom immediately. I told Thomas that "something was wrong with Grandpa and I needed to go get grandma" and out the door I went. I drove over to her house and found her crumpled on the floor screaming, "NO NO NO!". There was no time to think or to feel what ever I might be feeling and I got her in the car and drove up to my daddy's. Once there I went with her into the care home and we met the coroner and the police officer on the scene. I was outside of myself watching as I politely introduced myself to the coroner and the police officer. I was calm and in control and then went to my daddy's bed and sat with him. He was gone. I could see it. There was no life, no color, no nothing but his shell and I knew he was gone for real. Then I knew that I had to call my sister so I calmly got up and went outside to make the most horrible call you ever have to make to someone and that is to tell them that their loved one is dead. I'll never forget telling her and I'll never forget the sound in her voice as a quiet, almost like a little girl voice, responded to my news with a, "what?" Just like that I stopped her world just as mine had been stopped minutes before. Then the coroner came up to me and started talking to me. I must have looked like the only one in control of the whole thing because he started to talk about the business of moving my daddy to the funeral home and what would happen. I didn't hear a word he said though I sounded like I had everything under control. Then I went in to find my mom and she was surrounded by people so I began to make calls to all sorts of people. With a calmness I don't know how I mustered, I called so many people and delivered the most awful news that can be delivered. Over and over their shock assaulted me and I felt at a complete loss, unable to console them. I stood in the middle of the lobby of the care home and a worker there came up to me and rested his head on my shoulder, overcome with grief. I reached up and touched his face and rested my head on his and I comforted him.

I didn't shed a tear.

Not a single one.

I was in business mode and it was my responsibility to get things done, to console those who needed it and I needed to get back to my mom's side. I never once got even one moment to process what truly was happening. My daddy was dead, my mom was brokenhearted and so many many people were in shock and needed my advice and my answers about what to do next.

The afternoon turned into night and I found myself at my mom's trying desperately to calm her and failing miserably at it and I lay beside her holding her and praying to God that he help me through this, that I was only one person and that I didn't think I could do this alone.

I tell you all of this because I want you to understand what happened to me. From the very moment I got the call that my daddy had passed I didn't even have one second to process my own grief. I tell you this because I believe all of that day and the days following where I seemed to be handling things fine has now caught up to me and I am tired and crying and my mind has abandoned me except to function in the most minimal of capacity. I sit here this morning wanting to write about Thomas, wanting to write about schizophrenia like I always do but this morning I have nothing left to give. I am able to write now because I am telling you what happened that awful awful day but I write it merely to illustrate to you my point that in those terrible moments after my daddy's passing I was unable to process it and now, now I am processing it and I am quickly running out of fuel to help me do anything in my life.

I am writing this morning to let you know that I'm going to take a break from writing for a while. I am afraid though that I will lose all of you since I won't be writing about Thomas and our journey for a while. I don't want to lose a single one of you because you have been amazing and I know you care about Thomas and how he's doing. I really hope you'll stick around and give me some time to grieve. What I will do for you though is post articles and videos that I find because I find things almost daily that would be of interest to you. My presence here will not disappear completely but our personal story will for a while until I find my creativity again and have my heart back here with you and not so wrapped around my daddy that I can't think of much else.

Please forgive me and please give me time and most importantly, please don't give up on me or this blog. I'll be back, I know I will but for now, I need time to process what just happened.

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