The house has been emptied, barr the kitchen. I ran out of puff, and found that each day I spent there rendered me a bit more emotional and tired. I have moved everything apart from furniture, into the garage for my sister and her family to take, cleaned the house, hubby tidied the garden, and thats it. Done. House is now on the market. The day the agent came to take the photos, he found 3 ducks sat on the lawn. Odd, but for me very apt! They stayed there all day apparently and now appear in the house details.
I had some very good cries whilst clearing out the house, still plenty of tears left in me, but at least I just let go and went with the flow so to speak. I am feeling emotionally drained and battered and my family is getting used to the sudden flow of tears at odd times. I also feel emotionally vulnerable. Hubby and I had a spat earlier, one which I would have joined in with gusto normally, but had me sobbing almost immediately. Spoilt everyones fun! I have also lost the ability to enjoy myself I think. I can't seem to find the joy in anything at the moment and it upsets me greatly. I am sure it will pass in time, but it doesn't help.
I bumped into Ed today in Tesco and said to him that I want to blog, but the words just won't come. I desperately want to get my feelings out, but the time is possibly not right, and they remain firmly locked away. That sucks.
And that brings me to the end. I tried and on this occasion didn't succeed to let it all out. Next time maybe ..............
Friday, 6 April 2012
Wednesday, 21 March 2012
Probate
Well now the hard bit begins. What am I saying? It has all been hard! I mentioned to my eldest son that I felt very emotionally young, but he told me I am strong when I need to be and this is just normal. I know hes right, I am remembering the feelings from when Mum died, although I think there was a lot of disbelief with Mum as we didn't really realise just how ill she was.
Probate has been granted, so now we can go about emptying the house and putting it on the market. Husband has suggested we go to the estate agents this weekend to get an idea of how they would market it - it has a stair lift fitted and a wet room for disabled living - and how much they think it is worth. Up until now it has all been talk. After the initial clearing out of upstairs I found it easy to avoid going to the house. Rob is still living there, although he has found a house to rent with his friends and will be moving out soon.
Now, I will have to go to the house to sort out the remaining books, furniture, white goods etc. We also have to sell his electric scooter. Up until now it has all been talk, house sales that is. It hit me, this great big block of bricks swinging back and forth, it is real. Dad is dead, the house will be sold and that is the end of it all. I really don't think I can cope with it all.
Some days I am lower than the lowest low thing. I don't know how to get through the day, the weight is just too great. Every little thing makes me cry. I say I am aimless, and I have come to realise that my routine has changed drastically. For the past I don't know how many years I have taken Dad out on a Thursday, then Wednesday was added, then Friday. This was a regular thing, along with still popping in at odd times to "surprise" him, and the phone calls, the only one I don't miss is his 9am Sunday morning phone call! No wonder I am lost. I am better on other days and can talk to his photo and not get too upset. I have apologised to Mum because at the moment I talk mainly to Dad. I hope she understands and knows that in time I will chat to her as much as I used to.
I have had a few odd happenings, not sure if I have mentioned this first one. A few days after Dad died I went into my bedroom to go to bed and there was an awful smell in there. It was so bad I had to spray some deodorant in my room to mask it! After looking round for cat poo, saying nothing about the cat!!, and finding nothing to cause the offensive odour, I said out loud that I wasn't too happy with the smell and could it please be taken away. With that the smell instantly disappeared and a voice popped into my head to say "just to let you know he has arrived". I need to say here that I have had no thought of contact with Dad because he was catergoric in his belief that once he was dead that was it, the end.
Okay, the second odd thing was this week. I was sat in the lounge having a cuppa and staring out of the window when a kestrel landed on the garage roof opposite. It was weird, honestly, it really was. We have buzzards in the summer flying overhead, and although I have never seen one around the area of the house and park I can't say that we don't have kestrels. Its just I have never seen one landing on buildings, and never on the roof opposite my house! It gives me comfort to believe, whether its true or not, that it was something associated with Dad.
Tuesday has been one of my lowest days so far I think, I really don't know why. Tuesday night I dreamed of Dad and he was playing his "happy music" and telling me to listen to it. Whenever anyone was down Dad would play The Maggie on his ipod. He called it his happy music because it was a really jaunty tune, and we had it played at his funeral. Okay, subconsciously I knew about this and maybe that was the reason for the dream, I don't know, and actually nor does anyone else. Those people who know me know that I have the attitude of "look for the obvious, and if you can't find it then believe", and I want to believe.
Probate has been granted, so now we can go about emptying the house and putting it on the market. Husband has suggested we go to the estate agents this weekend to get an idea of how they would market it - it has a stair lift fitted and a wet room for disabled living - and how much they think it is worth. Up until now it has all been talk. After the initial clearing out of upstairs I found it easy to avoid going to the house. Rob is still living there, although he has found a house to rent with his friends and will be moving out soon.
Now, I will have to go to the house to sort out the remaining books, furniture, white goods etc. We also have to sell his electric scooter. Up until now it has all been talk, house sales that is. It hit me, this great big block of bricks swinging back and forth, it is real. Dad is dead, the house will be sold and that is the end of it all. I really don't think I can cope with it all.
Some days I am lower than the lowest low thing. I don't know how to get through the day, the weight is just too great. Every little thing makes me cry. I say I am aimless, and I have come to realise that my routine has changed drastically. For the past I don't know how many years I have taken Dad out on a Thursday, then Wednesday was added, then Friday. This was a regular thing, along with still popping in at odd times to "surprise" him, and the phone calls, the only one I don't miss is his 9am Sunday morning phone call! No wonder I am lost. I am better on other days and can talk to his photo and not get too upset. I have apologised to Mum because at the moment I talk mainly to Dad. I hope she understands and knows that in time I will chat to her as much as I used to.
I have had a few odd happenings, not sure if I have mentioned this first one. A few days after Dad died I went into my bedroom to go to bed and there was an awful smell in there. It was so bad I had to spray some deodorant in my room to mask it! After looking round for cat poo, saying nothing about the cat!!, and finding nothing to cause the offensive odour, I said out loud that I wasn't too happy with the smell and could it please be taken away. With that the smell instantly disappeared and a voice popped into my head to say "just to let you know he has arrived". I need to say here that I have had no thought of contact with Dad because he was catergoric in his belief that once he was dead that was it, the end.
Okay, the second odd thing was this week. I was sat in the lounge having a cuppa and staring out of the window when a kestrel landed on the garage roof opposite. It was weird, honestly, it really was. We have buzzards in the summer flying overhead, and although I have never seen one around the area of the house and park I can't say that we don't have kestrels. Its just I have never seen one landing on buildings, and never on the roof opposite my house! It gives me comfort to believe, whether its true or not, that it was something associated with Dad.
Tuesday has been one of my lowest days so far I think, I really don't know why. Tuesday night I dreamed of Dad and he was playing his "happy music" and telling me to listen to it. Whenever anyone was down Dad would play The Maggie on his ipod. He called it his happy music because it was a really jaunty tune, and we had it played at his funeral. Okay, subconsciously I knew about this and maybe that was the reason for the dream, I don't know, and actually nor does anyone else. Those people who know me know that I have the attitude of "look for the obvious, and if you can't find it then believe", and I want to believe.
Sunday, 11 March 2012
First steps
Well, I forced myself to go to the farm shop today. I say forced myself because it is a place that dad and I went to a lot, usually taking Josh with us. We would have some lunch, wander around the shop and then go outside to feed the pigs and see the chickens. It was a step forward for me, and I nearly backed out, but I need to start somewhere.
I find myself so aimless and lost. I have not only lost my father, but I have lost my friend too. We did so much together, and the saying "you never know what you had until its lost" is so true. I guess maybe I should look at it that I have so many memories in so many places that dad will always be with me. I am trying very hard to be positive, but I am aware that I am lonely and very low.
Life goes on despite the sadness.
I find myself so aimless and lost. I have not only lost my father, but I have lost my friend too. We did so much together, and the saying "you never know what you had until its lost" is so true. I guess maybe I should look at it that I have so many memories in so many places that dad will always be with me. I am trying very hard to be positive, but I am aware that I am lonely and very low.
Life goes on despite the sadness.
Saturday, 3 March 2012
Two months on
I am finding it hard coming to terms with the fact that my dad has gone and I will never see him again. It all feels so surreal. I still cry when I think of him, but I am not blocking thoughts of him out now. We have also put some photos up of him and I try and look at them as much as I can bear. As time passes we realise more and more just how big a part of our lives he was. How much we turned to him for his advice and opinions on things. We took all this for granted, as you do with life and the people around you.
The gap left is huge. We went out together to so many places that the memories are everywhere and I can't escape them. I know that in time it won't hurt as much, but that is a long way off.
The gap left is huge. We went out together to so many places that the memories are everywhere and I can't escape them. I know that in time it won't hurt as much, but that is a long way off.
Tuesday, 14 February 2012
Anguish
I am struggling, I admit it. I have reached the stage now where I miss Dad terribly and he keeps creeping into my thoughts unbidden. I am having trouble blocking the thoughts, and maybe I shouldn't. There are reminders of him wherever I go, we went to so many places together that nowhere is safe. Matthew says I have lost my focus and I am certainly aware that I am not my normal self. I feel depressed, but I know it is grief plain and simple. I phoned the hospice today to ask them to arrange some bereavement counselling so at least I have made a positive step. Dad was such a big part of my life I know it is going to take a long time for the enormous hole he left to fill up. I am adrift but hopefully will not sink.
Wednesday, 1 February 2012
Three and a half weeks on
I really want to blog. Sadly the words just won't seem to leave my head, not the ones I really want to say anyway.
The week after dad died I thought I was going to be ok. The second week proved that actually that wasn't the case and that I had built a wall up around me the first week for protection. I kidded myself that it was easier because dad had been declining for so long, and I had watched that decline every single day and was used to the fact that he was only really there in body for quite some time. The dad we all knew and loved had disappeared, leaving a shell behind. Not even a shell that resembled him. I don't want to dwell, because those are the memories I really do want to erase. I haven't really told anyone of the way dad changed after entering the hospice. Obviously Matthew knows because he was there too a lot of the time. I really cannot praise the hospice staff enough, their care extended to relatives as well as the dying, and they never stinted on it or made you feel a nuisance.
Needless to say, I miss dad. I miss asking him questions, he never let me down by not knowing an answer. I miss his telephone calls, and his standard message left on the answer machine if we were out - "this is a speaking machine, I called". I even went through all the old messages in the hope of finding one so I could hear his voice again. No luck. I spent so much time with him I am now aimless. I cry in shops because he's not with me. The ready meals in Morrisons today did it for me. Then the spring flowers section. I am crying as I type with silly little memories. Little memories that join up to make my dad the person he was.
When I am feeling stronger I will write him, a sort of eulogy maybe. I have had a stinking cold and sore throat, which made me very indignant, and now I cant breath through my nose again from crying and my head is pounding. Knew I shouldn't have started writing. Instinct is a wonderful thing, and I have learned to ignore mine at my peril!
The week after dad died I thought I was going to be ok. The second week proved that actually that wasn't the case and that I had built a wall up around me the first week for protection. I kidded myself that it was easier because dad had been declining for so long, and I had watched that decline every single day and was used to the fact that he was only really there in body for quite some time. The dad we all knew and loved had disappeared, leaving a shell behind. Not even a shell that resembled him. I don't want to dwell, because those are the memories I really do want to erase. I haven't really told anyone of the way dad changed after entering the hospice. Obviously Matthew knows because he was there too a lot of the time. I really cannot praise the hospice staff enough, their care extended to relatives as well as the dying, and they never stinted on it or made you feel a nuisance.
Needless to say, I miss dad. I miss asking him questions, he never let me down by not knowing an answer. I miss his telephone calls, and his standard message left on the answer machine if we were out - "this is a speaking machine, I called". I even went through all the old messages in the hope of finding one so I could hear his voice again. No luck. I spent so much time with him I am now aimless. I cry in shops because he's not with me. The ready meals in Morrisons today did it for me. Then the spring flowers section. I am crying as I type with silly little memories. Little memories that join up to make my dad the person he was.
When I am feeling stronger I will write him, a sort of eulogy maybe. I have had a stinking cold and sore throat, which made me very indignant, and now I cant breath through my nose again from crying and my head is pounding. Knew I shouldn't have started writing. Instinct is a wonderful thing, and I have learned to ignore mine at my peril!
Wednesday, 18 January 2012
Teardrops in abundance
Well after my last blog I did indeed fall apart. I knew it was coming and at the time it felt like the end of the world. I cried at home, then took the dog out and cried some more. Stood looking at the stars and cried and came home feeling like a bag of poo! Took myself off to bed and had yet another sleepless night. Tuesday morning my eyes were beautifully puffy and red, but I felt better in myself. Managed work ok, but I have noticed I am suffering from a severe lack of patience. Not good in my job!! One patient in particular had me wanting to hit him round the head, but luckily for him the closest thing to hand of any substance was the suction tube. Being made of plastic it wouldn't have done much harm. Could have gouged his eyes out I suppose had I taken his glasses off!
Sleeping is becoming a bit of a problem, but I guess if I am honest I would admit to that being normal for me. Yet another M.E symptom. I am very tired, but again, normal. I need to phone my sister, but am balking. It's hard when you are struggling with your own grief to be surrounded by someone else's. That sounds selfish but I noticed it when mum died too. You can hide from friends but I guess you shouldn't do it with family. Maybe a day in bed hiding under the covers would do us all good.
Sleeping is becoming a bit of a problem, but I guess if I am honest I would admit to that being normal for me. Yet another M.E symptom. I am very tired, but again, normal. I need to phone my sister, but am balking. It's hard when you are struggling with your own grief to be surrounded by someone else's. That sounds selfish but I noticed it when mum died too. You can hide from friends but I guess you shouldn't do it with family. Maybe a day in bed hiding under the covers would do us all good.
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