Death

Five letters, with a capital D. A word with power like no other. Simply amazing, how a simple word can knock you on your knees, make your brain instantly reminisce about your own life, create guilt for not being what should have been, and immediately break down barriers or build up walls of iron. My brother, Mac, called to say that our dad was given a few months to a year to live. I am not going to pretend a false sense of misunderstanding or poor comprehension. Facts are facts and when you dance, you simply have to pay the fiddler. Dad's life would be an easy one to judge, if you were into that kind of thing. He partied pretty hard, and did what he loved. Music made his world go around, and I assume he will have beautiful music in heaven...when that time comes. Here's the thing. I know me. I know that there is a certain amount of guilt in any kind of mourning cycle. I also know that my relationship with my dad has been strained for as long as I can remember. Sometimes (more recently) we were able to let by gones be by gones....and I wish they would stay that way. I don't know if I was the one giving in or if his just not acknowledging them was his way of giving in. I know I talked to him via phone calls on a pretty regular basis. I know that I stayed with him in the hospital when no one else did. I know that I tried with everything I have to be a good daughter - even if I never heard those words uttered from his mouth. Then why am I so riddled with guilt? Anger is another part of the mourning cycle - and I am not presuming to know the socially appropriate order these things go in. Mine seem all jumbled up together, so I guess this is my way of sorting them out (hence the mind music). Back to anger. I am so very angry. I am angry because my son didn't have a relationship with his grandfather - he will never know that side of his own heritage - and I am ANGRY because I don't want him to. The only thing that side of our heritage brought to me was hurt and anguish...I couldn't possibly want that for my child, so why am I angry? Sadness - I am sad. I am sad for my own personal loss, but more importantly I am sad for my brothers...all three of them...in very different ways. Those are stories that are not mine to share - and do not belong in my mind music. Part of my job as a Moad is to protect them - and protect them, I will. Well - the last one, I think is denial. I can't think of anything that should be denied. I am not one to run from anything and I am certainly not an artist whom paints things a different color than what they are. Maybe that is why I am so confused. Perhaps Death is a gray area that I have never had to walk in. Life is made up of complications and puzzles...or it wouldn't be living, right? So with complications and puzzles, you can only really expect to find solutions for what you know or have been educated about. I have no knowledge of death, besides our family pets. My grandparents died (and while I felt sadness, I wasn't there to witness any of it - I was half way across the world). I experienced death in the emergency room where I worked and those were hard to cope with, but they weren't my flesh. Blessedly, I haven't had to deal with the death of a husband, child, brother or parent up to this point. I lost a friend once, and went to her funeral, but I was only 7. Someone handed me a tissue and I could only think that I had something in my nose. I have attended many funerals since then, but none of them had my blood running through them when they were alive. There are no handbooks or binders to explain the proper order of grieving, or how to help your family members through. I looked and they all say there is no one way to do it. I guess, then, I am left doing it the only way I can - and that is my way. If it is wrong or right, we (my brothers and myself) will get through it as a united front. I guess on the bright side, I have them and they have me. That is the best we can do. Dad would never ask us to do more than that.