Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
I love you, but goodbye.
Life is so crazy. Have you ever had moments of just pure cluelessness or loss of control concerning your own life? I hope each and everyone of you have at least one moment in your life when you just completely lose control. It's terrifying when it happens, or even when it's about to happen. Yeah, I think it's the build-up that's just absolutely ulcer-inducing. But... BUT.... the afteraffects are pretty awesome, if you're willing to recognize it.
You see, I've freaked out an average of, oh, daily since we last spoke, and here's why:
In early November, I quit my job in Chicago. A job that I've loved and mostly enjoyed for the past 4.75 years. Then packed up my apartment and my life into a rental truck and shortly before Thanksgiving 2010, I drove that rental truck nearly 600 miles to my mom's house in Iowa, where I would live for an undetermined amount of time while I helped care for her. (She has MS and is currently going through Chemo treatments for cancer spots on her lungs and liver.) On that drive from Chicago to Iowa (which took almost 12 hours), I found out that my dad was very ill and that the doctors didn't expect him to live through the day.
My dad had been in a motorcycle accident in July of 2003, and since then he has been residing in a nursing home because the massive head injuries he received in the accident left him unable to walk or communicate. Then, this past November, my dad came down with pneumonia, which was why he was so sick that day that I drove my rental truck to Iowa.
When I arrived in Iowa, I went to visit with him, but he was unresponsive. He passed away 6 days later, November 29, 2010.
Funeral planning for your parents is coming, I don't mean to be intentionally dark or depressing, but it's a reality of life that I was aware of, but never fully grasped...though, how can you until it's upon you? I didn't expect my dad to pass away when he did, even though he was so sick, and had been only a shell of himself for the past seven years. A lot of emotions came to the surface when he did die, emotions that I had largely been holding inside since July 5, 2003 when I really lost my dad. This is not the situation most people will find themselves in. I hope that your parents live long, healthy, vibrant lives, and for most of you, that will be the case. Some of you, however, know what I mean as you've lost parents or loved ones long before it was their time.
Regarding my dad's death, life on the surface is not much different for my sisters, my mom, or I. We had long ago sold the farm and moved into a new home that my dad has never stepped foot in. I've graduated from college, moved away, got engaged...all without him. What is different, however, is this overwhelmingly concrete realization that he truly is never going to get better. He will never walk up the farm driveway from his workshop, or wave his distinct wave from inside his pick-up as we meet eachother along the highway. He is never going to smile his smile when I crack a joke, or insist he was watching that football game when we try to change the channel (even though he was clearly napping). His soul has now left his broken body, a body that had ceased to be my dad over seven years ago. His personality, his strength, his good qualities and his bad, they've all been gone long ago, this I know. But the finality of death is just so... final.
Early in the morning on November 29, 2010, my dad's pain ended as he was made whole again. For the rest of us, however, on November 29, 2010 our pain became more real and I was left feeling just a little less whole.
The time since the funeral has been difficult, for the obvious reasons, but on top of dealing with the grief of my dad's death, my mom's health began to decline and she came down with severe pneumonia as well. It's taken well over a month, but she is now beginning to feel better. Less coughing, more strength. It's a simple blessing.
There have been many, many more moments since the funeral, and really since I left Chicago, where I have been reminded just how out of control of my life I truly am. At the time, it was, and sometimes still is, really hard for me. During those moments of being faced with a challenge or a big-life decision, I have fought and struggled to maintain control of the direction I thought my life was supposed to be headed. But it was in those moments, those stressful, sleepless nights, when I realized that I have no 'real' idea what my life should look like anyway, but someone bigger than me does. That's so liberating! I guarantee that his blue-prints for me are far more grand than I could ever create.
Right now, this is what he's got on my plate:
1) Caring for my mom.
2) A new full-time job that's starting at the end of this month, that I'll be able to do from my mom's house for the first 6 months! (and then if possible I'll relocate to the twin cities. Yay Science Museum of Minnesota!)
3) An amazing fiancé who is super supportive, even though we live 800 miles apart.
4) Five freelance projects
5) An amazing Niece and Nephew who crack me up on a regular basis.
6) A cat who sleeps on my feet at night.
You see, I've freaked out an average of, oh, daily since we last spoke, and here's why:
In early November, I quit my job in Chicago. A job that I've loved and mostly enjoyed for the past 4.75 years. Then packed up my apartment and my life into a rental truck and shortly before Thanksgiving 2010, I drove that rental truck nearly 600 miles to my mom's house in Iowa, where I would live for an undetermined amount of time while I helped care for her. (She has MS and is currently going through Chemo treatments for cancer spots on her lungs and liver.) On that drive from Chicago to Iowa (which took almost 12 hours), I found out that my dad was very ill and that the doctors didn't expect him to live through the day.
My dad had been in a motorcycle accident in July of 2003, and since then he has been residing in a nursing home because the massive head injuries he received in the accident left him unable to walk or communicate. Then, this past November, my dad came down with pneumonia, which was why he was so sick that day that I drove my rental truck to Iowa.
When I arrived in Iowa, I went to visit with him, but he was unresponsive. He passed away 6 days later, November 29, 2010.
Funeral planning for your parents is coming, I don't mean to be intentionally dark or depressing, but it's a reality of life that I was aware of, but never fully grasped...though, how can you until it's upon you? I didn't expect my dad to pass away when he did, even though he was so sick, and had been only a shell of himself for the past seven years. A lot of emotions came to the surface when he did die, emotions that I had largely been holding inside since July 5, 2003 when I really lost my dad. This is not the situation most people will find themselves in. I hope that your parents live long, healthy, vibrant lives, and for most of you, that will be the case. Some of you, however, know what I mean as you've lost parents or loved ones long before it was their time.
Regarding my dad's death, life on the surface is not much different for my sisters, my mom, or I. We had long ago sold the farm and moved into a new home that my dad has never stepped foot in. I've graduated from college, moved away, got engaged...all without him. What is different, however, is this overwhelmingly concrete realization that he truly is never going to get better. He will never walk up the farm driveway from his workshop, or wave his distinct wave from inside his pick-up as we meet eachother along the highway. He is never going to smile his smile when I crack a joke, or insist he was watching that football game when we try to change the channel (even though he was clearly napping). His soul has now left his broken body, a body that had ceased to be my dad over seven years ago. His personality, his strength, his good qualities and his bad, they've all been gone long ago, this I know. But the finality of death is just so... final.
Early in the morning on November 29, 2010, my dad's pain ended as he was made whole again. For the rest of us, however, on November 29, 2010 our pain became more real and I was left feeling just a little less whole.
The time since the funeral has been difficult, for the obvious reasons, but on top of dealing with the grief of my dad's death, my mom's health began to decline and she came down with severe pneumonia as well. It's taken well over a month, but she is now beginning to feel better. Less coughing, more strength. It's a simple blessing.
There have been many, many more moments since the funeral, and really since I left Chicago, where I have been reminded just how out of control of my life I truly am. At the time, it was, and sometimes still is, really hard for me. During those moments of being faced with a challenge or a big-life decision, I have fought and struggled to maintain control of the direction I thought my life was supposed to be headed. But it was in those moments, those stressful, sleepless nights, when I realized that I have no 'real' idea what my life should look like anyway, but someone bigger than me does. That's so liberating! I guarantee that his blue-prints for me are far more grand than I could ever create.
Right now, this is what he's got on my plate:
1) Caring for my mom.
2) A new full-time job that's starting at the end of this month, that I'll be able to do from my mom's house for the first 6 months! (and then if possible I'll relocate to the twin cities. Yay Science Museum of Minnesota!)
3) An amazing fiancé who is super supportive, even though we live 800 miles apart.
4) Five freelance projects
5) An amazing Niece and Nephew who crack me up on a regular basis.
6) A cat who sleeps on my feet at night.
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