Eight years ago, I spent December in palliative care, caring for my father, spending the final weeks with him. I did not leave his ward. I stayed right beside him. Gave myself sponge baths in his bathroom, slept on a pallet on his floor.
This is, believe it or not, a sweet memory for me. It was a time I cherish. The talks we had, the physical care I gave my dad, that last dance... I would not change a SECOND. He was in very little pain. I only regret that I could not fly to Montreal and get him the ribs and steak he so wanted from a restaurant that burnt down a decade earlier.
I would often look out his hospital window, the ledge made a makeshift window seat. And I'd watch the falling snow reflect light as he slept.
He died in my arms on Christmas Eve. The silly dreamer man who's favorite movie was the Santa Clause, who filled my Christmases with magic. The intelligent man who as an adult put himself through night school so as to provide a better life for his newborn daughter. The clown who'd make me laugh. The hero who could fix anything, or so I thought.
Christmas is special for me in a thousand ways. As a Christian, as a mother to a child who I'm blessed to have, as a wife to a wonderful man and as a daughter to a man who smiled as he took his last breath, the last breath that fanned my face.
I know that Christmas is special, JOY-FILLED, for so many. But others are struggling with loneliness, heartache, emotional, physical and spiritual pain.
This is a blog for you.
Here are some songs that helped me in the week following my father's death.
I played them over and over. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PkiP7y0faukhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=60bNzi9dA9Uhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jiYYWDSI_oU
May you have a support system around you at this time. Those on the Soup send you prayers and/or you are in their thoughts.
I DO hope you "make it through December." It will get better. Hang on!
Hugs sent to you during this time, when all the laughter, glitter and music seems to mock and causes pain....