Loss

This is a hard post to write.  I have been dreading July.  My dad would have been 85 this month.  For those who don’t know me, I worshipped my dad.  But just about one year ago he entered the hospital.  He would be released to assisted care and fight like hell to get out of there.  A hole in his lung would send him back to the hospital in September.  He would fight like hell to get out of there, too.  Surviving a surgery the doctor told me he couldn’t.  But he wouldn’t be released.  So as July starts and everyone celebrates our country’s independence, my sense of dread grows.

From July through September I worked, fed my son, visited my dad, slept, and repeat.  You will notice cooking and cleaning we’re not mentioned in there.  Laundry was washed, but I only folded dad’s and that was because he liked things folded.  I figured he had earned that.  In October when he died, my world fell apart.  I worked and took care of my son, but that was really autopilot.  Laundry got done and folded only when I couldn’t find my son a pair of clean socks.  We cooked more so that was good.  We somehow celebrated my son’s 7th birthday, Christmas, New Year’s Valentine’s Day, My 48th Birthday, and Easter.  I would have to go to Facebook to tell you what we did.  I tried to keep it together for my son, but he experienced a loss, too, so sometimes we just missed Papa together.

All this time, stuff was piling up in my house.  I just couldn’t deal with it or finding a place for new things.  And I couldn’t throw away papers and crafts by my son.  It bugged me horribly but that is what it was like.  A little over a month ago, I started returning to me.  I still miss my dad terribly and cry at the most unpredictable times.  But I was aware that I wanted to make a special summer for my son.  To do some of the things we didn’t have time to do last year.  As we started living, the mess started bothering me more.  And so, in a whirlwind of activity one weekend, I organized his room.  He is my child and it wasn’t any worse than mine was at times at his age.  But it took a whole day.  It felt good to get it cleaned.  He plays in there more now and I know he loves it.  But the rest of the house still needed work.  So this week, with a few days off for the holiday, I attacked the living room and my desk.  It felt so good.  There is a hutch between the two that was my mom’s and it needed cleaning as well.  So in my overhaul, I made the top shelf a place to put the things that meant the most to me and reminded me of him.  The flag from his funeral is there.  My collection of military coins from volunteering for the USO is there because I did that in his honor.  His picture from his 80th Birthday when we first moved home.  His clock.  His wine glasses and an empty bottle of wine he bought me.  It isn’t a lot in the big scheme of the cleaning I have done this week, but it gives me a peace I haven’t felt in quite a while.  I smile at the things rather than breaking down in tears around them.

How do you honor those you have lost in your home?