There is a board and care home around the corner from my house that my father stayed at (maybe three months) during his brief battle with prostrate cancer.
So yesterday when I was out walking Lucie I saw a man about my age pushing a wheelchair of a loved one and it was quite familiar. His passenger was either incredibly thin, or perhaps close to the end.
They were stopping and marveling at flowers, hedges, and even shadows cast by trees. I remembered these walks quite well.
Immediately the memories were triggered, and I went back to that time when I was pushing my dad outside and trying to grab, and savor every single second we had together.
It's funny how grief goes. It's so bloody painful, and razor sharp initially. Yet, it has to wane. The sharp edges have to get worn, and soften. I hate to be cliche but one has to go on. The part that hurts goes away but the wound is always there.
I will always remember how he grew so quiet at one point during his illness. t was SO unlike him. My father was like a maven. He knew so much about everything. I remember during one of his silent periods, nervous and desperate to draw him out I asked, "What are you thinking about?"
"How to beat this thing," he responded wistfully.
I stopped and let Lucie do her sniffing on a nearby Boxwood while I continued to watch the two. I found myself smiling as I had completely forgotten the walks with my dad.
Once Lucie was satiated with sniffing we continued on.
This brought tears to my eyes. My dad passed away in 1998 after a stroke. He was in a care facility for nearly three years before he died. It's so hard to watch someone you love who was so capable become so totally dependent.
ReplyDeleteWhat a poignant memory. Your description of grief hit me hard today - from the attempts to savor every moment to the inevitable dulling of the edges. I'm so glad you were able to end this walk with a smile.
ReplyDeleteThank you for the post today. Grief is HARD. I agree the sharp edges soften. Sometimes, even after 6 years for Mom and 4 for Dad, it’s as if the edges catch on something. (Maybe I should call that a grief hangnail?) Your post is also a good reminder to cherish what time we do have, as we don’t know how long it will be.
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