Sunday, 17 June 2007

How do you prepare for it?

For the funeral of someone so close to you, but also removed? How do you steel yourself mentally for the emotional onslaught you know is only 12 hours away? And how do you try to stay strong to support your husband while you're hopped up on fertility drugs that do nothing but make you emotional?

Poor guy - he hates seeing me upset. Hates it. Just like I hate seeing him upset. There's nothing on earth like seeing him cry. I feel so completely helpless, so sad for him, and I'd do anything in my power (or beyond if I could figure out how) to remove from the picture whatever it is that's making him sad.

Now, I can't do that. I can't take away the pain of losing his father, the pain of watching his sisters and mother and niece grieve their collective loss. I'm completely powerless to do anything but sit back and watch him go through it, moment by painstaking moment.

And to top it all off, I really love his family so much that it's all compounded, 'cause seeing them sad and broken just amplifies my feelings of powerlessness and sadness. So someone says something, and another starts to get a bit teary, and I can't help myself - call it the drugs or just my lack of ability to hold back tears in the best of situations - I'm bawling too.

It's all just so sad. Losing someone so close, saying that final goodbye, scouring through decades of photos and re-living the memories that inevitably float to the surface as you review the photographic history of your intertwined lives.

This is as close as I've come, really, and it's not even me. I can't even begin to imagine life without any of my parents (I have lots - it's complicated) and all of the sudden, I'm so close to it I can see exactly what it does to a person. Sure, I've lost people close to me before (grandparents, an aunt) but I've never been right there in the thick of things. I've never lost a parent. Most of my experience in this realm has been, quite honestly, lived vicariously through friends and family members.

But my husband...someone I know so intimately, whose eyes tell me everything I need to know about how he's feeling, who's trying so hard to keep it all together...this is something I've never encountered in my entire life. It just breaks my heart time and time again.

And now it all comes down to this - the funeral service tomorrow. The details are all worked out, the CD is burned, the collage is together, the package of everything we need to bring with us is at the front door, the outfits are picked out, the speeches are written, the flowers have been ordered and delivered, the kleenex has been packed in my black purse.

Now all we have to do is get through it. I'll do my best to keep it together but I know the situation and the clomid (fyi - the cyst is still there but is smaller and isn't making estrogen, so I'm back on the clomid as of yesterday - awesome) will work against me, and many a tear will be shed by yours truly.

Thank you my dear readers for your kind words and thoughts over the past few days. They're greatly appreciated, I can tell you that. And they're just what I'll need to get through a very sad, sad day tomorrow.

And that's your daily dash. How's your diva doin'?

5 comments on "How do you prepare for it?"

Anonymous said...

Hang in there.

Marlene on 18 June 2007 at 08:24 said...

thinking of you and the family today.

Anonymous said...

I'm so sorry, truly I am.
Thinking of you and yours today.

cathymc on 18 June 2007 at 15:07 said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
cathymc on 18 June 2007 at 15:08 said...

... also in my thoughts.

Unfortunately, there aren't words to make it better - but the strength and support you can offer with just the holding of a hand or a hug are emense.

Take care of each other.




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