Denial

For obvious reasons death has been consuming my thoughts a lot.  Dad had a wonderful turnout for his funeral.  Standing room only, not only in the actual room which we figured sat 150+, but standing room only in the lounge/reception area.  A testament to what a great person he was.  I was very pleased to have friends of mine come to offer their support.  It means so much.

I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around this.  People die.  They die everyday.  They die expectedly after a long illness.  They die unexpectedly after an accident or sudden illness.  They die old, young, and very young.  I live on a farm with animals.  If you live you will die.  I heard a statistic on the radio show that I was listening to when I was driving to MN for the funeral because I was tired and I wanted to get irked so I would be more alert.  "The more you watch TV the more you increase your risk of death."  Well at least it served the purpose of making me irked.  You can't increase your risk of death.  Your risk of death is 100%.  No one gets out of here alive.  We start dying the moment we are born. etc...  My point is intellectually I know we all die.  I know my dad is dead.  I know he is not coming back.  I know it had to happen eventually.  I know with his smoking habit he was not likely to be the longest living parent. But I am having such a hard time accepting it.

I've cried.  I cried much.  I've sobbed and howled.  When Spencer & Tin were having a screaming contest on the way home from MN I joined them. (They thought I did ok, but they thought they were both better.)  How can someone who is a part of your life just not be there anymore?  I answered the phone and knew before Chris told me, he was dead.  But even then I asked a question, not a statement. "He's dead?"  I saw dad in the casket, it didn't look much like him at all.  But it was him, dead.  I was a the burial. We tore a ribbon to represent our pain.  We lit a candle for him.  I know he's dead. 

But if I know he's dead, why do I forget. I go along with my life and all of a sudden I get hit with the realization again and again that he's dead.  In the bookstore because dad hadn't made it to the bookstore before Christmas for our traditional used bookstore Christmas gift. (Poor woman in the aisle with me.) As I'm starting the truck because I think he could help me fix the starter.  In the barn, because he'll think the hay setup I got going is pretty good for a city girl.  When I get home and I tell Chris to call his dad.  The constant forgetting and remembering is exhausting.

I suppose the forgetting is really denial.  And I suppose its a coping mechanism.  Helps me get through the day, through life.  Things still have to get done even if I just want to go hide under my covers.  Chris is gone again. New York this time.  While I really wish he were here its probably good he's gone.  We are both so on edge and so sensitive.  All of our emotions are right at the surface.  the distance might help us not lash out at each other, but we also don't get the consoling we both still need.  I really feel for my mother-in-law.  Now's teh time she could use her husband to help her get through this.  She has her daughter and she has her family.  But still.... My heart goes out to you Jean.

Anyway - if you see me with red eyes or crying in the beer aisle, I'm not any crazier than usual.  I just remembered that dad is dead.