Numb. Lost in an empty space. Hollow.
There comes the point where you don’t know that your heart can break any more than it has. A numbness settles and the depth of pain with each new devasting blow just seems to become one deep hole that you will maybe one day in the very distant future inch out of.
Two years ago, my father's wife stopped allowing us to have contact with him. He has dementia and she is his power of attorney. While he is still alive I have grieved for him in a way I didn't know was possible. An ever-present heartache settled deep within me.
I look for him when I am shopping. Or sometimes I think I see him in the distance. People ask of him. And yet while he is here, he is gone. It’s cruel. Inhumane that him having dementia wasn’t enough, he had to be isolated and cut off from the people that loved him by someone who was faithfully given the power to care for him. I thought grieving the living was the worst heartache I would ever know.
3 weeks ago my Dad, my Mum’s husband of almost 40 years, passed away suddenly and unexpectedly in the middle of the night. My phone rang at 11:50 pm and I knew that something was gravely wrong.
Seeing my mum lost in a wilderness of grief is itself heartbreaking. Her face has changed. The feeling in their home has changed. He has gone and with him, this larger-than-you-could-imagine love that he blessed everyone with has left each room colder, each day shallower, each moment less. Her heart is shattered, and our hearts are shattered. He was the greatest Dad you could ever ask for.
Since I was a very little girl, his hugs have calmed me, his big voice thrilled me, and his smile brought me home each and every time he shared it. His calm loving nature was magnetic. The kindest human you will ever meet.
Gone forever.
Forward. Forward feels hard, the numbness has set in. So practically I can function. I can comfort you as you offer your condolences. I can make you feel lucky that it didn’t happen to you. Yet hours pass as I do what needs to be done and I as I do it, I disappear into a lifetime of loving memories that keep reminding me that is all I have left now.
The last thing I ever said to both my father and my Dad was “I love you”. For that I am grateful. The last thing they ever said to me, was “I love you”. For that I am grateful.
Weeks are passing and I don’t know the day, nor the date. The sun rises and the sun sets. There is only this numbness. There are days I look at my Mum and I cry for her. Losing the love of her life is taking away the joy from every moment she is living. I can’t see how or when that will change for her.
She weeps quietly. She stares into the room. She struggles to rest, and there is no respite from sleep as it eludes her night after night. She doesn’t want food, comfort is empty. There are no words that can ease the magnitude of what is happening to her. Grief has consumed her every breath.
He was such a strong man. So healthy. So happy. So giving. So kind. A giant, the greatest of the greats, the best of the best, and to farewell him feels like we are farewelling a love we will never know or feel again.
I am numb. Lost in an empty space. Hollow.
At 46, my entire life is upside down.
There are lessons here.
Right now, I need to find a light in the darkness, and inch my way forward, just so that I can feel something again.
The Tea Fables.
