peony

Hi Margaret, thanks so much for your reply, it made me feel a little less alone, and I'm glad my post made you feel a little less alone, too. Today is the six-month mark, so it is also comforting to read your words. I try to follow similar advice to what you just suggested -- the way I think about it in my head is that all I have to do (for anything) is just show up -- if I get there, get of bed, whatever, that's enough. If it feels terrible, then I can leave or stop, because I only feel obligated to show up. Strangely, I think allowing myself to do this has made me generally go to whatever I have to do, and stay there. Anyway, good luck with your garage sale. I hope that it goes well. Peony

Hi everyone. I am new to posting, but I have been reading your thoughts on this messageboard for about a year now, and they have been very helpful and reassuring to read, and often helped me face my feelings that I haven't been able to face until reading other peoples' feelings. Thank you. My Dad died on 21 October 2004. Tomorrow will be the six month anniversary of the last day he was with us, and Thursday will be the six month anniversary of the first day he was gone. I can't believe that it has been six months, and that while my life still feels unfamiliar and strange that I can see what it is like, and will look like, without him physically here. I had the honour of almost one full year with him after his (second) diagnosis of lung cancer, which has made my process of mourning quite different from some others' processes. In a way, I feel like I was able to mourn with my Dad while he was here, so there is almost a sense of continuity now, that I did not begin this process in October 2004. His death was beautiful, my Mom, my sisters and their partners and I were all there, and it was very peaceful. He was not ready to go (he was doing very well, a week before his death none of us could have predicted he would get so sick so fast), but he accepted that it was his time to go. I know that between his original diagnosis in 2000 and his death, we had many conversations that we would never have had if he hadn't got sick, said "I love you" more often (and in the year or two before he died, every time we talked) and I am so lucky to have him as my father. What troubles me is that I don't know what to do. I don't have unresolved issues about what I should have said to him, or his death. I don't feel angry about what has happened generally, though sometimes I am because I feel like I still need a Dad (I am 27, he was 59). I don't follow a religion or particular spirituality, and neither did my Dad -- I think we both believe(d) that our time here together is limited and all that we have, so therefore very precious. This belief has not shifted since his death. So, in spite of feeling like I haven't had to face a lot of the common things that are hard for folks to deal with in grief, I feel trapped between "moving on with things" and focusing on work, life, etc., and feeling totally devastated and unable to do anything. It doesn't feel like there is an in-between space for me. And even if I am getting things done for work and spending time with people socially, my apartment is still a mess, I still find it exhausting to even think about doing laundry, and it is hard to feed myself sometimes. Sometimes I feel like what I really want is just for someone to take care of me, so that I can just be sad, even though I know this is unrealistic and impossible. Life seeps back in. I don't really know what I am asking for in this post, but writing it did make me feel better. Thank you again. Peony