Words from the heart

As tough as last night was for me, it was even tougher for Hubby. He said that the death of his father still seems so unreal. He said that after he left his sister’s house on Monday night, he thought, “Oh, I need to call dad,” and then realized he couldn’t. He said that he still thinks his father might be just hanging around at home or something, that the reality of it is still so foreign. I understand those words more than he knows. To this day, almost 19 years later, I still occasionally think of something I need to tell my mother. I think, "Oh, I need to call mom," and then realize I can't. Just a couple years ago I even had the phone in my hand, and then realized I didn't know the number to Heaven. I can’t say anything to him (or to his sweet family) that would make this feel better. There are no words of condolences that can make the loss of a beloved parent tolerable. As Hubby lay on the couch with his head resting on my lap, deep into his own personal sadness, many phrases came to my head that I didn’t voice. “He’s in a better place now.” “I know how you feel.” “He’s not in pain anymore.” “Can I help you?” “Do you need anything?” “I’m here if you need me.” “Do you want to talk about it?” “I know how you feel.” “I know how you feel,” floated through my head several times, and I believe it to be the worst thing I could have said, because it’s not true. Well, in a way it is true, because I, too, have lost a parent. (Two parents, actually, if you consider my adoptive father who passed away 5 years ago May 19th.) I know the emptiness that surrounds you. The distance you feel from your every-day life. The void which seems to stretch for miles between you, and whatever is going on around you. The anger you feel toward people who, though they mean well, express their sympathy for your loss. I know all these things, but also know that saying them to a grieving person does not make what they are feeling any better. I also know that each person deals with this type of loss differently and that it’s better to let them grieve at their own pace and to let them guide you as to the right time to talk about things. So I said nothing and just let him grieve. I do so wish I could say something that would help. It was hard for me to back off like that. I feel a compulsion to fill the sad silence with words. I know this about myself, and it didn't make not saying anything easier, but I did it. I hope he, and his family, know that my not saying anything isn't because I don't have anything to say, but because I have too much to say and nothing seems appropriate. I’m not looking forward to the upcoming funeral and graveside services – mainly because I know I will cry through the entire thing – but I also know that Hubby and his family aren’t looking forward to it any more than I am and that this isn’t about me. My job is to take care of the kids, and be a means of emotional support to my husband, and his family. I feel like I’ve written more than I can handle (and probably more than anyone else can handle) and I’m not sure if I have made any sense but I needed to get it off my chest. My grief is also real because I loved my Father-in-Law, too. TTFN JMS