pdcraig
Distinguished member
- Joined
- Mar 2, 2013
- Messages
- 101
- Reason
- Lost a loved one
- Diagnosis
- 09/2012
- Country
- CA
- State
- ontario
- City
- oshawa
Just rambling. Today was 3 weeks since Ferd died. I've been trying to get the thank you cards done and have been in tears all weekend. I got the online stuff finished but the cards are still waiting, Not sure what it is about them that is so hard but... Getting his things together and doing the disbursement wasn't this hard. I didn't keep many things. It's funny how little they had any connection for me to him.
His family has been great, surprisingly supportive. it's strange being their substitute Ferd. the last tie to their brother but it has been comforting hearing them reminisce.
The service was beautiful. Friends sang. I got a couple of audio clips of him singing and they had video of him singing and dancing. It was so overwhelming. I hadn't heard him sing since he was diagnosed. The closing hymn was Hallelujah. Ferd sang it all the time. one of our old roommates asked me if I had done that on purpose. when I asked why he reminded me Ferd used to change the lyrics to how peculiar. We shared a smile, it seemed oddly fitting,
nothing fits anymore. life feels like a million jagged little pieces that cut every time you pick one up and try and put it in place. I can't sleep. every time I close my eyes I replay that last half an hour. I was beside him holding his hand. He was so still when he slept I used to but my hand on his belly to make sure he was still breathing, He'd let out a big sigh and everything would be fine. Except no sigh this time. I hit the call button and started to cry. told them I didn't think he was breathing. lots of people came rushing in. the nurse said he had a pulse. I said he's okay then? and she told me he had maybe 1/2 an hour left. I sat there holding his hand, crying. I told him I loved him, I would miss him but I understood he had to go. Everyone kept saying he had such a peaceful passing and i kept thinking how in the world was that peaceful. I was talking to a friend about it, telling her how it haunted me and she said that must have been awful for you. that rollercoaster thinking he was gone then okay then he really was gone. that's when I realised it wasn't peaceful for me but it probably was for him. it's taken a bit of the sting out of it.
hearing he's in a better place, that he isn't suffering anymore is no comfort at all.
everyone keeps telling me it's okay to feel guilty that i'm alive and he's not. I tried to explain that I don't feel guilty for that. it's not like we were in a car accident and he died and I lived. I feel guilty that he died. Somehow I failed him. I missed something, we should have gone ahead with the PEG, I should have been smarter, tried harder. My whole focus for almost 6 years has been keeping him alive and he's not. It doesn't matter that there was no other way this was going to end, that it was an impossible task. I know that, it doesn't seem that my mind and emotions are on the same page anymore.
I don't understand why everyone thinks I should be angry at him for dying. that it's okay if I feel that way but odd if I don't. I explained to the grief counsellor I knew what it cost Ferd to be here with me. i was there through the pain, through the spasms in his throat that were so bad he was coughing up blood, not eating for 27 days. He didn't leave by choice. I'm not angry at the universe for taking him from me, I was loved and loved in return. some people never ever experience that. being angry it wasn't as long as i would have liked feels like it diminishes that somehow. like it was only true if it lasted longer. kind of like if I can't have the whole cake, I won't enjoy this piece in front of me. i don't know.
I always knew there would be a price to pay. that being Ferd's caregiver would catch up with me eventually. you can't push that hard that long. now that this part is done, it feels kind of like a train wreck. that first car stops and every other one crashes into it. Now I have to deal with the whole train, not just the car in front of me.
I knew I would be sad, crazy unbelievably sad. I didn't expect pain. gut wrenching, can barely breathe pain. It's like my whole body contracts. I've been having pretty bad anxiety episodes. apparently fairly standard. another mind and body not in sync thing.
Every step i try and take forward feels like I am abandoning Ferd some how. like moving on means I have to forget him. I know that's not the case, but that's how it feels. I understand the appeal of staying here, of looking forever back. I don't want to stay here but I may just linger a while. sit grief at the table for a bit then send it on it's way when I'm ready. I know the reason I'm in pain is because i loved him. the idea he is now my past, it's hard to reconcile. the other side of that is that I know what it feels like to be loved and I want to feel that again. Maybe one day, maybe not.
It's funny, I thought that I would be relinquishing my crown. no more prince of persistence, somehow that ended when I was no longer Ferd's caregiver. I think I may need every bit of that to move forward and rediscover what my life looks like after him.
Paul
--oO:neutral:Oo--
Prince of Persistence
His family has been great, surprisingly supportive. it's strange being their substitute Ferd. the last tie to their brother but it has been comforting hearing them reminisce.
The service was beautiful. Friends sang. I got a couple of audio clips of him singing and they had video of him singing and dancing. It was so overwhelming. I hadn't heard him sing since he was diagnosed. The closing hymn was Hallelujah. Ferd sang it all the time. one of our old roommates asked me if I had done that on purpose. when I asked why he reminded me Ferd used to change the lyrics to how peculiar. We shared a smile, it seemed oddly fitting,
nothing fits anymore. life feels like a million jagged little pieces that cut every time you pick one up and try and put it in place. I can't sleep. every time I close my eyes I replay that last half an hour. I was beside him holding his hand. He was so still when he slept I used to but my hand on his belly to make sure he was still breathing, He'd let out a big sigh and everything would be fine. Except no sigh this time. I hit the call button and started to cry. told them I didn't think he was breathing. lots of people came rushing in. the nurse said he had a pulse. I said he's okay then? and she told me he had maybe 1/2 an hour left. I sat there holding his hand, crying. I told him I loved him, I would miss him but I understood he had to go. Everyone kept saying he had such a peaceful passing and i kept thinking how in the world was that peaceful. I was talking to a friend about it, telling her how it haunted me and she said that must have been awful for you. that rollercoaster thinking he was gone then okay then he really was gone. that's when I realised it wasn't peaceful for me but it probably was for him. it's taken a bit of the sting out of it.
hearing he's in a better place, that he isn't suffering anymore is no comfort at all.
everyone keeps telling me it's okay to feel guilty that i'm alive and he's not. I tried to explain that I don't feel guilty for that. it's not like we were in a car accident and he died and I lived. I feel guilty that he died. Somehow I failed him. I missed something, we should have gone ahead with the PEG, I should have been smarter, tried harder. My whole focus for almost 6 years has been keeping him alive and he's not. It doesn't matter that there was no other way this was going to end, that it was an impossible task. I know that, it doesn't seem that my mind and emotions are on the same page anymore.
I don't understand why everyone thinks I should be angry at him for dying. that it's okay if I feel that way but odd if I don't. I explained to the grief counsellor I knew what it cost Ferd to be here with me. i was there through the pain, through the spasms in his throat that were so bad he was coughing up blood, not eating for 27 days. He didn't leave by choice. I'm not angry at the universe for taking him from me, I was loved and loved in return. some people never ever experience that. being angry it wasn't as long as i would have liked feels like it diminishes that somehow. like it was only true if it lasted longer. kind of like if I can't have the whole cake, I won't enjoy this piece in front of me. i don't know.
I always knew there would be a price to pay. that being Ferd's caregiver would catch up with me eventually. you can't push that hard that long. now that this part is done, it feels kind of like a train wreck. that first car stops and every other one crashes into it. Now I have to deal with the whole train, not just the car in front of me.
I knew I would be sad, crazy unbelievably sad. I didn't expect pain. gut wrenching, can barely breathe pain. It's like my whole body contracts. I've been having pretty bad anxiety episodes. apparently fairly standard. another mind and body not in sync thing.
Every step i try and take forward feels like I am abandoning Ferd some how. like moving on means I have to forget him. I know that's not the case, but that's how it feels. I understand the appeal of staying here, of looking forever back. I don't want to stay here but I may just linger a while. sit grief at the table for a bit then send it on it's way when I'm ready. I know the reason I'm in pain is because i loved him. the idea he is now my past, it's hard to reconcile. the other side of that is that I know what it feels like to be loved and I want to feel that again. Maybe one day, maybe not.
It's funny, I thought that I would be relinquishing my crown. no more prince of persistence, somehow that ended when I was no longer Ferd's caregiver. I think I may need every bit of that to move forward and rediscover what my life looks like after him.
Paul
--oO:neutral:Oo--
Prince of Persistence
