A Time to Grieve

I went to sleep last night listening to Louise Hay on YouTube. I began with a 30 minute meditation and she was clear that even if I fell asleep while listening to her voice, my subconscious mind would still hear.

The past week has been a slow decent into a loss of “spark” for lack of a better word. I find it harder and harder to get out of bed. I am triggered by the realization that I lost my mom in 2018, my partner, Jackson, in 2021 and now my dad in 2024. It is a cycle I do not wish to continue.

Another realization, my dad had become my purpose. When my mom passed, my dad was devastated. 64 years with her left him hopeless and unsure of how to be here without her. In the 6 months after her passing, I watched my dad cry rivers, lose 50 pounds and become a shell of who he once was. I couldn’t bear it. At the time, I was living in Boise, in a beautiful condominium of my own. At 18 I left home and moved in with my first roommate. From there, I either always had a roommate, a husband or children living with me. Boise was the first time I had lived completely alone. I decorated and I nested. I made a promise to myself that nothing would cross the threshold of my home that didn’t spark joy inside of me. True to my word, I created a home, just for me. It was my sanctuary, and I felt immediate joy the moment I stepped through the front door… every single time.

Then, on a visit home, I witnessed first hand the devastating effect my mom’s passing had had on my dad. He was living in their home, my childhood home, alone. It was quite, it was full of memories and sitting alone in his chair, he seemed to take up very little space. My heart exploded with the desire to fix this, so I made the decision to come home.

For 6 years I lived here with my dad and I watched him come back to life. He regained the weight he had lost, the color returned to his face, I heard him laugh instead of cry. I watched him rescue and lovingly care for many cats over the years along with possums, racoons, and a variety of birds, including humming. He had found his purpose, caring for these animals who depended on him. And I had found mine, caring for him. He made a promise to my mom that she would never go to an assisted living or nursing home as long as he could prevent it, and he did. She was very ill and slowly declining both mentally and physically for two years before her death, requiring 24/7 care, which he gladly provided. My only thought was, “who is going to do that for him?”

Now, 1 week after his passing and his reunion with his love of 64 years, I am here. Sitting alone in a too quiet house. And it is very different, being here without the purpose of caring for dad. Now, I slowly sort through belongings and memories.

I have full knowing that I will get through this, that after the grief begins to subside and I settle into acceptance I will begin a new chapter in my life. No longer caring for children or elderly parents I am free to begin caring for myself and creating a life that once again sparks joy. For now, I will allow grief to do it’s thing. Washing over me in waves of tears, keeping me in bed longer than normal, allowing me to simply sit in a quiet room and reflect. And slowly, my spark will return. But maybe not today. Writing helps. It is how I process, so if you are still here, with me, thank you for witnessing my process. I love you.