Regression

This is very random, stream-of-consciousness.  I'd go back and edit, but I like everything that is included.  For the sake of not having to write separate entries about my dad/my grief, I'll leave it as is.


I was prepared, thanks to my perceptive friend Emily, for some regression as we traveled to Florida for my sister's wedding.  It would be the first time I saw my immediate family since my father's funeral, and I knew there would be some special remembrances of him during the wedding. (My sister held his handkerchief around her bouquet, and played a special song for him during the reception).

The weekend passed with a bit of sadness surrounding the absence of my dad but nothing that I don't normally encounter any other week.  I thought I had side-stepped the possible backtracking in my grief that I assumed would occur.  Whew.

Fast forward to a week later and my dad appears in one of my dreams.  It was an especially vivid one and it was unlike others that I have had since his death in that it made sense circumstantially (as opposed to ones where he is in a wheelchair, etc.)  Enter: regression.

In the dream I was waiting to leave for somewhere/something, and my dad was sleeping.  When he awoke I went in to say goodbye to him before I left and I started weeping.  I told him that he is very ill and he needs to take good care of himself.  I warned him that any respiratory illness could cause him to have to go to the hospital, and if he gets sick to call me right away and head for the ER.  I told him it would be worse than the last hospitalization, and that he would probably die.  Of course, I also told him that I love him very much and wanted him to stay well.

Does this all sound familiar?  See what I mean about it making sense?

I woke up and thought that those were all the things that I would have told him had I spoke with him about his illness before he died.

Kraig reminded me that those were the things I did tell him before he died.  Not immediately before, of course, but at times over the past two years and as recently as 2-3 days before his hospitalization.

The only difference was that in the dream, he was crying.  I could see and feel his emotion.  My dad wasn't one to hold back many emotions but sadness was one he did keep to himself.  I don't know how he felt about his disease or if he even knew its severity.  I also often wonder how he felt as he was driving to urgent care, likely gasping for breath.  I wish he had called me but I understand that the circumstances probably didn't allow for that.  Still, I wish I had spoken to him one last time.  I think being able to experience his sadness in the dream gave me a bit of closure.  Maybe he did understand how ill he was and how serious it could be if he got something as minor as a common cold.  I know that if he thought about it he would have been extremely sad to leave me and my sister (and our families) behind.  I know he would have been sad about his life being cut short.

At the same time it hurts to see him sad, even if it's only in a dream.  Part of me wants him to have been living in some grand illusion where he thought he'd get better just so he'd be protected from the painful truth.  Nobody wants to know they are going to die young.

When I woke up, the dream set off a flurry of emotions, some sad, some happy that I had seen him, mostly yearning to see him again.  Nothing out of the ordinary but as the day went on and we- coincidentally and completely unintentionally- listened to some of his favorite musicians, the emotions became stronger.  I felt the usual anger, despair, and disbelief that I struggled with so much during the first few weeks after his passing.

I am trying to remain positive as a lot of different thoughts go through my head.  I had a great relationship with my dad over the two years before his death and I am extremely grateful for that.  We talked constantly, day in and day out.  We were honest with each other and I considered him not only a loving father and grandfather, but a wonderful friend.  I knew how proud he was of us for moving to Oregon and how excited he was to possibly come visit this summer.

I have felt, at times, that people fault me for leaving Ohio when we did, especially when my dad suffered from such a terrible disease.  I have never felt guilty about it nor did I ever feel like my dad thought I should have stayed.  Sure, he missed us.  That is normal.  But he was so proud and so thankful to be able to witness some of our new life.  He knew it was a great choice for us as a family, and he never said a negative word about it (which was, honestly, quite surprising to me).  We maintained a close relationship even from across the country, and I think that is what matters the most.  The only thing he expressed disappointment about was our slow pace (in his opinion) in adding to our family.  The fact that I can't call him to tell him we're having another baby hurts more than anything related to distance in our relationship.  He would have been so thrilled.

I'm sure there will be many more instances in the next 20-30 years (that he should have been alive, given an average lifespan) that I will wish I could share with him.  I shared many daily experiences with him when we'd talk, and it hurts to not be able to share the little things just as much as it hurts to not share the bigger events.

So, that's where I am at.  Still struck by the fact that he isn't here.  Missing him more all the time.