Grief

*Disclaimer: Mom, if you're reading this...go get a tissue (or ten) because you are probably going to cry. Just warning you. Love you. A.*

There are 5 stages of grief...or so they say. I looked them up, and can honestly say that I have felt them all (or some semblance of each of them.)

1. Denial
This happened very quickly for me. I can remember one of the first things out of my mouth was, "This is a dream....this cant be real." And I think for the first few weeks after Dad's death...I resorted to thinking that he was just on a trip. And that he would return and things would go back to normal. And some days, even now...2 years later, it still feels that way. Its like I forget that he is dead. And I will think, "I need to call Dad and tell him..." only to remember that he's gone. Or for a moment I will think, "next time when I go home, I'm gonna get Dad to help me...". It's weird. But it doesnt make me feel bad that I "forgot"...just shocks me back to reality.

2. Anger
I think this is where I have spent most of the last two years. I have been angry at any and everyone...at Dad for dying, at the nurses and doctors for not saving him, at the lawyers for not thinking that there was any wrong-doing, at God for "taking my Dad," at random strangers, at other people that still have their Dads, at my children because they will never know him, even at myself for being happy for a moment (like it would discount all of the sadness that I have felt about him being gone.)

The anger stage of grief is one that I know I had to go through...but, I've realized now, that being angry took ALOT of effort. It was alot of work to continually be mad that "my Dad was gone and so-and-so's wasnt." And it took Caton finally sitting me down and telling me that I had to do something about my anger. From that moment on, I have made to conscience choice to let it go. Yes, Dad is gone...yes, I am sad that my children wont get to know him...but for me to be angry about it...well, that's just too much work.

3. Bargaining
I'm not so sure I spent alot of time here. I've often thought what I would do or say to Dad if I got just one more day...or just one phone call. But I wouldnt say that I have been bargaining...like making deals with God for 'x' if Dad could just come back. As much as I would love the opportunity to spend with him (and for him to spend with my kids), I understand that we will have to wait until we all meet again. And I know that he's just up in heaven getting the party situated...so that everything is ready to go when we all arrive.

4. Depression
To say that I havent been somewhat depressed over the course of the last two years would be a bold-faced lie. It's hard. It's hard to think that I have no idea what the last thing that I said to my father was. I would like to think that it was, "I love you," but I cant be for sure. I know the last time I saw him...I can remember that goodbye in vivid detail...but as for the last time that we spoke before he died...I have no idea. And that makes me sad.

It's hard to look at my children...and see soooo much of my father in them that it is scary...and to think that they will never know him. Sure, we talk about him, we relive memories for them, we tell them how much he loved them...but to know that they will never know him...makes me sad.

Depression, I think, looks differently on different people. Because I wouldnt say that I was the kind of person that had to stay in bed and didnt want to socialize with others. But, I think that my depression was masked by my anger. It's not that I was never happy...but I think that 'anger' and 'depression' gave me a circle hug and held me tight in that hug for a long time. It wasnt until I realized that being depressed/angry over Dad (who wasnt here anymore) was taking away from my joy for the people that were still here...that it all changed. That I could finally begin to talk about him without feeling anger, I could finally enter a Church without wanting to scream out at Jesus, and that I could begin to relive my memories without feeling overwhelming sadness.

5. Acceptance
Over the course of the last year, we have had a couple of lawyers take a look at Dad's medical records...just to see if there may have been any cause for concern in his treatment plan. And because of all of that...it has helped me come to a point where I am accepting that Dad is gone. And while the lawyers are able to say that he may not have received the utmost, best care possible...they cant say that because of that care - Dad died. Up until reviewing everything with the lawyers, I had always thought that Dad had a heart attack on Saturday...and passed away early Sunday morn. When in all actuality...he had a second heart attack on Sunday morning - that being the one that took his life.

It's weird to think that being able to hash out all of the details with a lawyer is what I needed to give me some closure...but that is exactly what happened. While speaking with the lawyers looking at the case...I felt more at peace than I had over the course of the last 2 years. I am totally okay with saying that, "It was just his time to go." And as much as it really does suck to say that...it's the truth. We may never know why October 14, 2007 was Dad's time...but it was.

And I'm okay with that.