It’s been a very long 2022.
As I washed this day off my body, I imagined that I would wake up. I remember thinking that I’m not asleep, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wanted to wake up.
Dad died on March 1st.
I am not sad that dad is free from every pain, sorrow, and complication that affected him on this earth. I’m not worried about where his soul is or where he will spend eternity. I’m not distraught about losing my father. I have a confident assurance that I will see him again one day in heaven.
I just don’t feel awake yet.
So loss…
Dad isn’t lost. I know exactly where he is – body and soul. I’m not wondering where he went. Dad didn’t lose his battle with anything. Dad was strong right up to the last minute. He didn’t lose. He won. Dad had victory in Jesus over death and sin. He is forgiven and has been welcomed into his place in the Kingdom of Heaven. He is rejoicing and praising God with the saints.
I am the one who’s lost. Figuratively, of course. There are two absent people from my life. People I loved and cared about very much. They listened to me and shared my burdens and joys. They were on my team. My people. They are both free and made whole and perfect again and I’m the one that is lost.
I’m not the only one, of course. I’m only writing from my perspective. A quick count says that there are probably close to a hundred people who are also experiencing this loss from inside my extended family. I can’t tell you how they feel. I haven’t even talked to them about it; not because I don’t care, simply because I’m not awake yet.
David Kessler and Elizabeth Kubler-Ross are two experts on the topic of grief. They have mapped out five stages of grief and shared a glimpse of what those stages look like to enable us to recognize what we’re feeling after loss and to be able to navigate the terrain of grief. Those stages are Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. Kessler has come up with a sixth stage, Meaning. It is important to note that not everyone goes through every stage, or in a certain order of the stages. Grief is very personal. It is ours to experience alone.
So as I begin this grieving process, I will do my best to share with you all that I’m experiencing. Fortunately, I had recently stepped into the acceptance stage of grieving my health and the life I had before Parkinsonism. So I am now able to unpackage the deaths of these two beloved family members, and I’ll try to do that openly and with as much reality as I can. Keep in mind that while this is my truth, it also intersects with others, so I must be careful not to harm them and their truth while I unearth my own. So while some readers will know who I am referencing, for this series, I’ll call my dear one who passed in January, “Aunt Kay”. Of course, I’ll call dad by “dad” or “pops”.
Today was the first time I reached out to text anyone outside my immediate family. I was just feeling “under”. I wanted to make sure there was still someone at the other end of the rope, someone at the surface who knows where I am, and knows that I’m trying. They are still there and they know, and that was enough for today. That was my max communication ability right now, and there’s this.
This is my release, the place where I go to reconcile everything. I come here, to The Real Amy Sara, to unpack, decompress, and be real. I can call things as I see them here, and you either read it or you don’t. You may disagree or hold another lens, but that doesn’t matter on these pages. This is my story and it’s my truth.
That’s the first thing I want to say I will miss about dad. He always let me tell my truth. Even when it was painful to hear. He allowed space for it. If he held a different lens, he may have shared it or not. It would depend on the moment and the truth. I will miss my talks with dad about the things that I found interesting or strange; the things that made me happy and those that ticked me off. I’ll miss sharing those things with him and I’ll miss hearing about his trips, travels, and triumphs with fishing, doctors, and mom.
Today, I’m starting to get feeling back, but I haven’t resurfaced. I’m still not awake yet.
Momma Rich's 