Time heals all wounds so they say. And in a sense it is true. The raw grief and pain after bereavement does ease with time , but it never totally goes away. I have lost friends and extended family, as well as losing both my brothers and my parents. We have nieces and nephews, as well as their offspring and other extended family, but of our core family unit of six, it is now just down to my sister and I.
My folks and I shared a house for 13 years after their retirement. They were in latter years both sickly and frail admittedly, but they passed away within five months of each other and it was a great loss. My Mum died on 10 October 2006 of massive heart attack just two months short of their 50th wedding anniversary, and my Dad on 6 March last year.
Funny, my folks had a warring relationship, not a peacable one, but the day my Mum died , my father gave up the will to live as well, he was broken hearted at losing her. After my Mum's death, I could not care for my Dad on my own, he had suffered strokes and was wheelchair bound, so we were forced to move out of our house and into a granny flat beneath my sister's house. It was very traumatic for both of us as we had not only lost my Mum, but we had lost our home of 13 years moving from a 3 bedroomed house into a one bedroomed granny flat. We both hated it.
It is toay the first anniversay of my Dad's death and it has been a horrid week for me. My Dad has been in my thoughts a lot. The Thursday before he passed away, I knew he was dying, and I told my sister I wanted to try and nurse him and let him die in peace in his own bed. The Saturday before he died , I got him out of bed for the last time because he wanted to watch the rugby on telly. He was up for all of about 20 minutes, and then asked me to return him to bed. He stopped eating and was sleeping a lot, barely talking.
By the Sunday night, I knew he was in heart failure and battling to breathe, so I with my sister made the decision to have him transported to hospital so that he would not have any discomfort. The ambulance people wanted to intubate him before transportation and had to sedate him for this, and so they advised us to say our goodbyes as they did not think he would survive. That was the last time he spoke to us and said goodbye to little Erin too.
He lapsed into a coma and finally passed away at a quarter to 2 in the morning of Tuesday the 6th March.
I stayed with him the whole time. I did not want him to die alone. It gave me time to sit and talk to him even though he was comatose. I spoke about the boys and my sister, about the fact that the boys and Mum would be waiting for him. I talked about the grand kids and great grand kids. I sang him songs that he had sung to us when we were younger etc.
It was also a time for me to confess my guilt and ask for his forgiveness for the way I had treated him after my Mum died. I had "cared" for him and nursed him as best I could, but it was not an easy task I was full of resentment and tempers were frayed and conversations often ended in battles and arguments.
It was very hard tiring work, feeding him, lifting him in and out of his wheelchair , cleaning him and medicating him etc. His hands had been affected by the strokes, so he could not even hold a bottle himself, so although he was in adult nappies, I had to get up to him sometimes four or five times a night for toilet patrol. I didn't have a whole night's sleep through in five months. Befor her death it was my darling Mum who had tended to him at night, arthritis and dicky heart and all.
He was aways an angry impatient man and not the easiest patient. Add to that the fact that I was (we were both) grieving my Mum greatly, and that yes I 'spose in my messed up state I took it out on him for past hurts and injustices.
Still he was my Dad, and I have guilt battles with things like the Saturday before he died ( the night before he was hospitalised) , when he got me up at about 11pm for about the fifth time and I screamed at him as I was so tired, and he burst into tears and sobbed and said to me, "Do you think I can help it? Do you think I would do this to you if I could help it?"
Those are things which I will live with for the rest of my life. I have asked his forgiveness and for God's forgiveness too and I know if He could, my Dad would put his arm around me, hug me and say . "It's OK my girl it doesn't matter"
So you see why it's an anniversary that I have not welcomed. I have not slept well and each night since Thursday I have been remembering what happened at that time a year ago.
On Saturday night the family went out to a braai and I stayed at home. I just wanted to salute my Dad in my own way, a way he would understand.
I poured a stiff whisky, watched Strictly Come Dancing which I last watched when my Mum was alive. (We all three loved the show). I have to admit that I balled my eyes out when Joseph Clark sung "Time to say goodbye"
Then when it was time, I sat and watched City of Angels, and cried my way through that too.
This film has particular significance. When my Mum died, my Dad and I were totally adrift without her. My fiancee - who I will refer to as Woo (bless his soul) gave us a a whole lot of DVD's to watch that would appeal to Dad. Nature DVD's war movies etc. But among them was "City of Angels". this turned out to become an obsession with my Dad as it made him think of my Mum and he said it made him feel a little easier about her passing. I cannot tell you how many times we watched this film together in those five months, my Dad and I.
So Saturday night for me was a little vigil in a sense, and I woke up this mornig early and lit a andle for my Dad at 01h45, the time he passed away last year.
But it is time in a sense to say goodbye, and take that next step towards living my life again, and I know that my parents and brothers are the first to encourage me to do so, and to live life to the fullest.
I got an email from an old school friend on Thursday. We have known each other sice Std 5 and her Mum , who is suffering from cancer , was a good friend of my Mum's too. Anyway Debs mentioned that she had been to see her Mum who had asked after me. Debs told her I was OK, was engaged and was planning a wedding. Mrs H's response to that was that she would pray for this to happen as I deserved to be happy and settled now. I will end with her last words about me as they are what I am taking to heart and will apply:
“life is for the living you know Debra and we cannot ponder on the past – we need to make each day count."
That's what I aim to do!
Me Da I salute you!
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