pdcraig
Distinguished member
- Joined
- Mar 2, 2013
- Messages
- 101
- Reason
- Lost a loved one
- Diagnosis
- 09/2012
- Country
- CA
- State
- ontario
- City
- oshawa
It's late, can't sleep. Just rambing, trying to put some thoughts in order.
I can't believe it's been 4 months since Ferd died. It feels like I haven't seen him in forever, like it's been so much longer. And then I think it's only been 4 months, that's why this still feels so raw.
I'm back at work. I thought that would be different, help get me back into a routine. Truth is it feels pretty much the same. I juggled working and caring for Ferd for years.
Being at home is okay. I don't expect to see him here. We never really got a chance to settle into the new house. Never bought new furniture or choose paint colours or anything. Instead carpet got torn up so he could use the walker and wheelchair, got rid of furniture to make room for equipment. I think him being in the LTC facility for so long makes it a little easier to be here alone now. It's funny, I don't think of it as home, it's my house. Home was Ferd, wherever he was.
Truth be told I feel a little rootless right now. No strong connection to anything. I've been home to see my family. that's been good and strange at the same time. So much has changed, I'm out of step with everyone. But there have been moments where things have been great. Where it just feels good, my first thought isn't I wish Ferd was here. it might be my second but for a little while it feels like something inside has unclenched. Like I can breathe.
People talk about grief and healing, kind of like getting over the flu or a cold. I think it's more like an amputation. At first it's overwhelming but over time you make a million little adjustments until life goes on as it always did. Then you hit it in just the right spot and all of a sudden you get that searing moment of loss and pain. It may pass quickly or slowly but it does pass and you're reminded there is a part of you missing that you used to have.
There will always be a part of me that will mourn Ferd, the loss of our life together. The what might have been. But I think that's okay. It just adds another layer to life. It doesn't mean I can't go on and live my life to the fullest whatever that means.
It's hard coming back to the forum, reading about others who have lost their PALS, hearing of other CALS still struggling. It brings back a flood of memories, some good, mostly not. It's been hard dealing with what our journey through ALS was.
When Ferd was sick, it seemed like there was always 10 things that needed to be taken care of yesterday. there was no time to try and process what was happening to the both of us. Now that I'm on the other side of this, trying to get a handle on how I feel, I'm struggling. Not just dealing with his death but the last 6 years. Being lonely isn't a new feeling for me. I hated that Ferd was away from me but I never thought of how lonely he must have been too. He was surrounded by people all the time taking care of him and I was always so busy with everything else i don't think I ever thought of him as being lonely. Stuff like that trips me up, gets me down. There are lots of things that just got pushed to the side, to be dealt with at some future date, Now it's that future date facing the horror of what we went through. That sounds a little dramatic I suppose but I can't think of another word that really captures what ALS is like.
Nights are still the worst. I keep feeling like I should be somewhere else. Like I'm waiting for something. I almost expect to get a phone call from the facility asking where I am, when I'll be there,
Been eating a lot of take out food. Ferd and I had such a strong connection over food, We both liked to cook and eat. Cooking for myself and by myself is a bit depressing. Can't say I miss the clean up though. I'll get back to it in time.
It's a lot harder than I thought breaking my routine of the last few years. Still eating really late a night, cramming everything into the few free hours I used to have on Saturday. I really have to stop myself from saying no, I don't have time for that.
All in all, I feel like a spring that is slowly unwinding after being wound as tight as it could be. I guess that's progress, right?
Thanks for listening
Paul
--oO:neutral:Oo--
Prince of Persistance
I can't believe it's been 4 months since Ferd died. It feels like I haven't seen him in forever, like it's been so much longer. And then I think it's only been 4 months, that's why this still feels so raw.
I'm back at work. I thought that would be different, help get me back into a routine. Truth is it feels pretty much the same. I juggled working and caring for Ferd for years.
Being at home is okay. I don't expect to see him here. We never really got a chance to settle into the new house. Never bought new furniture or choose paint colours or anything. Instead carpet got torn up so he could use the walker and wheelchair, got rid of furniture to make room for equipment. I think him being in the LTC facility for so long makes it a little easier to be here alone now. It's funny, I don't think of it as home, it's my house. Home was Ferd, wherever he was.
Truth be told I feel a little rootless right now. No strong connection to anything. I've been home to see my family. that's been good and strange at the same time. So much has changed, I'm out of step with everyone. But there have been moments where things have been great. Where it just feels good, my first thought isn't I wish Ferd was here. it might be my second but for a little while it feels like something inside has unclenched. Like I can breathe.
People talk about grief and healing, kind of like getting over the flu or a cold. I think it's more like an amputation. At first it's overwhelming but over time you make a million little adjustments until life goes on as it always did. Then you hit it in just the right spot and all of a sudden you get that searing moment of loss and pain. It may pass quickly or slowly but it does pass and you're reminded there is a part of you missing that you used to have.
There will always be a part of me that will mourn Ferd, the loss of our life together. The what might have been. But I think that's okay. It just adds another layer to life. It doesn't mean I can't go on and live my life to the fullest whatever that means.
It's hard coming back to the forum, reading about others who have lost their PALS, hearing of other CALS still struggling. It brings back a flood of memories, some good, mostly not. It's been hard dealing with what our journey through ALS was.
When Ferd was sick, it seemed like there was always 10 things that needed to be taken care of yesterday. there was no time to try and process what was happening to the both of us. Now that I'm on the other side of this, trying to get a handle on how I feel, I'm struggling. Not just dealing with his death but the last 6 years. Being lonely isn't a new feeling for me. I hated that Ferd was away from me but I never thought of how lonely he must have been too. He was surrounded by people all the time taking care of him and I was always so busy with everything else i don't think I ever thought of him as being lonely. Stuff like that trips me up, gets me down. There are lots of things that just got pushed to the side, to be dealt with at some future date, Now it's that future date facing the horror of what we went through. That sounds a little dramatic I suppose but I can't think of another word that really captures what ALS is like.
Nights are still the worst. I keep feeling like I should be somewhere else. Like I'm waiting for something. I almost expect to get a phone call from the facility asking where I am, when I'll be there,
Been eating a lot of take out food. Ferd and I had such a strong connection over food, We both liked to cook and eat. Cooking for myself and by myself is a bit depressing. Can't say I miss the clean up though. I'll get back to it in time.
It's a lot harder than I thought breaking my routine of the last few years. Still eating really late a night, cramming everything into the few free hours I used to have on Saturday. I really have to stop myself from saying no, I don't have time for that.
All in all, I feel like a spring that is slowly unwinding after being wound as tight as it could be. I guess that's progress, right?
Thanks for listening
Paul
--oO:neutral:Oo--
Prince of Persistance
iavsem:Uu--[/DUMUS]
