Or one month, three days to be exact. And how does it feel?
Honestly, I can't explain it, has it not sunk in properly, is this a stage in the grieving process? In another life during a brief and mistaken period of nurse training I studied Kübler-Ross, or rather I read a book or two and something stuck. In the far, dusty corners of my mind, the whole five stages of grief thing got clogged in amongst the trivia.
I haven't spent a lot of time thinking about it but I seem to have accepted things. Well, I've not had much time to dwell on my dad dying. There is still so much to do and I don't have the heart to do anything. This isn't because of his passing but more to do with the fact that I realise how reliant people are on me to do everything and in a moment of self-pity I wonder who I can rely on.
The photo was taken in the place we chose to put dad's ashes, a place he was fond of, where he visited so many times before. A place we can visit whenever we want. Because living people are selfish like that.
2 comments:
Honestly? My dad's death didn't sink in properly until over 6 months later (partly because I had to direct so much emotional energy into looking after my mother). Several times I felt quite cold and callous as I wasn't "grieving". It just happened later, that's all.
There's as many different ways to deal with death as there are people. Try not to force yourself into a way that you think is "right" or "expected".
I'm the same as you, in that at the moment I seem to be more caring for my mother and her emotions than thinking of my own.
For the boys I've tried to remain positive, after all my dad was 88 and had a good life, he was happy. As far as things go he couldn't have wanted any more and to spend months or years in a home just wouldn't have been him.
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