New Normal

There have been many moments of discussion over the past several months as to how I believed things would feel and pan out in the aftermath of losing dad.  I’ve had overwhelming feelings of clarity and comfort in knowing things would be ok.  As far as the business part of death, that remains the same.  I do know that things will be ok.  The emotional side, which I typically feel very intellectual about, I’ve felt that it could go one of two ways.  I expected either a full retreat of emotions or an all out invasion.  Here I sit, feeling nothing more than a body floating above reality and under the reality I want.

I sat in the tub shortly after the funeral home took his body.  The smell of shea and vanilla breathed into my lungs and caressed my soul.  I sat for several minutes without moving.  Tears flowed at an even pace that was futile to stop.  I let them flow.  I’m sure the expression on my face was alarming in the fact that I probably looked catatonic.  For a while, I felt that way.  Eyes open, spilling moisture, I stared blankly at the dripping water coming from the faucet and thought, “What now?”

Speaking with my siblings about them not going to work the next day, I thought to myself, “My job just changed.”  I said that aloud.  Joel answered, “You just adopted two kids.”  Yes, I did.  Even though I had known that this was an inevitable fact, nearly immediately upon knowing dad was sick, the physical manifestation of it struck me with such shock, that I’m still feeling the tremors.  I’ve been actively involved in their lives for the past year, but with apprehension.  Dad had been there and was still a buffer between my actual responsibilities for them and the fact that dad was still able to parent.  Teetering between those two plateaus has been a balancing act of respect and pending responsibility.

Today is different.  No one is here but who lives here.  Those who have come to visit and have taken partial residence over the past few days have returned to their daily routines.  When my mother died, I was anxious to be put to use.  I hovered and fussed over my siblings and dad.  For two weeks I felt helpless and unnecessary.  When I decided to return to my own home, my dad said to me, “I’m not wanting you to go home, but I need to feel how things are going to be without you here.”  At that time, it hurt me.  It felt as though I wasn’t a cog in what was his normal life.  But the truth is, I wasn’t.  I didn’t live in his house.  My presence was outside of normal.  It wasn’t until last night that I understood exactly what he meant.

Though, I would love to delay the full ramification of this new reality to set in, I need to have the sense of what to expect with the cast members being the ones who it will be for the rest of this time.  As I said goodnight to people last night, I breathed in a sigh of apprehension as I entered the home in its new state.  The medical equipment is gone.  There aren’t sounds of a man fighting for his life.  The space he was residing in is empty and in need of a little cleaning.  The whole feel of that room is foreign.  Even though dad was only in that space for a little over a month, it feels like he was there forever.  Weird.

Last night I slept horribly.  I kept waking to sounds dad would make.  When I would come out of the sleep daze and recognize that he wasn’t making those noises, I would whimper and go back to sleep.  Needless to say, it was a long night.  Dreams of him and what has passed are going to plague my subconscious for some time.  I know this.  I’ve been here before.  I still hate it.

Because of the spiritual support I feel daily, my morning was greeted with my two best friends texting me to check on me.  I almost cried as I read those messages of concern.  They were inspired to drop me a line.  I’m so grateful for the intuition they recognize and act on.  They know me and know that being left alone is bad for me.  I am never going to lose sight of the powerful friendships I have in each of them.

There are many adjustments on my horizon.  I know that as soon as there is any stability obtained, it will be temporary.  Joel will graduate this May and hopefully move into his adulthood with a plan or at least an intention.  Then, life will continue to evolve.  Some ways in accordance with expectation and others with a little less foresight.