Old Habits and New Routines
The 4th of July has come and gone and in the days that followed I was finally able to grasp the enormity of my grief. Subconsciously I’d put myself on a restricted grief program with regards to my Dad. The loss of Jordan is still so palpable, especially this summer as I wished for him to be at his brother’s graduation and I see Merrick wishing Jordan were here to provide instruction and advice on going off to college. Circling back to a place of pain that felt so remote for so many months still takes my breath. Grief moves in so many directions but for me there has never been a linear path.
In a way I decided that helping my mother through her own loss of her companion and love would assuage my grief in some way. We have a new routine of talking to each other every night before she goes to bed. She stays busy during the day, not able to be still too long. For my mom who has always been an active person knowing what she has planned for each day soothes her and helps her through. Nighttime is when the house she and my dad shared for 46 years seems too quiet. She has a list of family and friends whom she speaks to every night, all of us needing to hear her voice before we’re able to sleep.
Over the 4th of July weekend, I realized that putting levels on grief was a mistake. Yes I deal with the loss of Jordan everyday and I’m stronger now (most days) than I was in the months after he died. My logic that the unbearable grief of losing a child should make me strong enough to endure losing a father without too much emotional upheaval turned out to be a huge misstep. I miss my Daddy. I miss my son. The grief I feel for each is different but no less present. They both beg to be felt.
When Daddy was briefly in a rehab center and we thought he’d be able to go home for at least a few days he asked Julie and I to throw him a party. The first date he threw out was the 4th of July. Some of his nieces and nephews and his sisters and brother were also in the room and we all agreed that a party with Daddy, which we all knew would be his last was a great idea. Time was not on our side. As Daddy got sicker he didn’t forget his party idea, he just changed the date to Memorial Day. There was nothing Daddy loved more than grilling ribs, chicken, beef, you name it and having family and friends over to eat. Music always played in the background and you knew where the party was by the sound of laughter and jazz music wafting from the backyard.
On the 4th I told Mark I’d made a mistake. “I’ve been acting as though I have to be stronger and not fully give in to my feelings about losing Daddy.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because longing for Jordan and missing Daddy at the same time hurt too much. I realize now that it’s going to hurt and I have to let it happen.”
“I know, I’ve been thinking about Pop a lot too. You know the 4th is when he wanted his party.”
“That’s what’s wrong with me. All day I’ve been imagining him at the helm of the grill, totally in his element. I’d forgotten we promised him a party. I just keep seeing him healthy and his old self, asking Julie and I to be his taste testers.”
“It’s okay. Everything happened so fast. Pop was too sick to have any kind of party. It doesn’t mean we can’t have one for him next 4th of July.”
“He would have liked that. All he wanted was for people to eat and have a good time.”
“So we’ll do it.”
I tearily shake my head yes. “But today I’m so sad. I miss him for me and I miss him for Mama. I know she feels so alone.”
“You’re doing everything you can to help your Mom. But you can’t keep denying how much you hurt.”
I sat on the porch a while longer with Mark and then came inside, went upstairs and lied down. Accepting the grief meant accepting the weariness and fatigue from all the sleepless nights. Next year we’ll have a party. This year I allowed myself all the tears to flow as they formed their own parallel river to the tears I’ve cried for Jordan.
Alwaysmomof4's Blog 