I would like to be able to say that I’ve been writing my butt off over the last year and a half I’ve been away from this blog. The truth, however, is far different.
It’s only been in the last couple months I’ve been able to write. In February 2012, my fourth child was born, granting me 2 girls and 2 boys. Shortly thereafter a touch of post partum depression reared its ugly head.
Then came the kicker.
My father died while taking a nap just down the hall from where I was working on something and my children were playing.
He came home from the grocery store, put away his goodies, and settled in his room to take a nap while watching his shows. All that was perfectly normal. My daughter and I brought the newborn in to see Grandpa for a few minutes, then said goodnight as we shut the door behind us.
A couple hours later, my 7 year old daughter (at the time) asked if she could go play with Grandpa. He was usually up at that time, and they had a closer relationship than I could ever adequately describe, so I told her okay.
She came running from his room screaming, “Grandpa won’t wake up, Grandpa’s dead,” while clutching a pillow to her chest and crying into it.
I became cold, lost my hearing, literally forgot how to breathe as I ran toward his bedroom door. I thought, Well, he can’t be dead. But what if he had a stroke and is unconscious?As I swung the door open, his color gave it all away. I leapt over to him anyway, to take a pulse. He was cold. He hadn’t moved from the restful position we had last seen him in – not a hair out of place. He must have passed only moments after we left the room a couple hours before.
Though I haven’t been able to think of anything but my daughter’s pain, the sheer amount of paperwork (we STILL haven’t completely finished with all that friggin’ paperwork), and my own grief for the past year, I have been able to find comfort in the fact that my father felt no pain, didn’t suffer the indignity of growing frail enough to need help to the bathroom (something he feared), and passed peacefully among family. In the last month or so, my daughter has also been able to see the blessing in so pain-free a death, though it has taken a long time to help her find that comforting. All she wanted for Christmas was her Grandpa back.