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My sister in law, who is estranged from her Father (a situation a lot like mine) found out he is dying. As in he has less than a week to live. (he didn't treat his liver kindly.) There are so many complexities in that she feels drawn to make peace. And the kicker is, he lives all the way in Australia. A bit of a journey, and a lot of cash.
There is quite a bit of, "on one hand... but on the other" about how she wants to say goodbye.
She said she thought she knew how she would approach his death but you know how it goes... life interrupts.
It makes me think a bit how I might approach my Father's death one day. My general plan has always been, that if someone (like his present wife) wasn't about to sort out the death stuff, I would make sure that it would be tended to. (make sure he was cremated, etc...) I don't know if I would do a funeral per se, but I would want to get together with my siblings and let us have our own emotions about it.
But if he was in the dying process... I am not quite sure what I would do. I am good at the practical, "let's do this, and that." but these fiddly emotional corners, I am unsure of. What is there to say goodbye to? "Goodbye sad man, who chose to be consumed by emotional poison."
"There were good moments. You taught me some things. Some of those bad things turned out to be useful, in that I chose to take the other path."
I don't want all of this to be sad sad sad. Today has been a nice day. An ordinary day in many ways. It is my wedding anniversary. We got the kids ready for school. He made them breakfast, I made sure the kids had their clothes. He reminded me of the permission slip I needed to sign. I did Miss Biscuit's hair. He supervised teeth-brushing. I took the kids to school. We sorted through the budget, discussed the trip to London for Miss Biscuit's US passport renewal. (may put it off for a month so the month isn't too crazy.) He sorted out the laptop that kept crashing. He went upstairs to work. I was downstairs doing my thing.
I picked up the kids from school, made tea for Mr. Jenner and I, listened to Miss Biscuit read, provided cookies to the kids, asked them about their day. I made a cake, and dinner. We had dinner. (always like dining with drunks when eating with kids.) Then he listened to Senor Onion read, entertained the kids. I put more laundry on, tidied up, got Miss Biscuit into her nightgown. He supervised teeth-brushing, and then read stories to Miss Biscuit. I hung out with Senor Onion, and got him a hot water bottle.
Once the kids were in bed, we watched Great British Bake-off, chatted about whatever.
Nine years. Not bad.
I buy houses the way I pick husbands. Feel half-hearted about most of what I encounter and then find one and go, "THAT ONE. I WANT THAT ONE. LET'S DO THIS! I AM DONE!"
There is quite a bit of, "on one hand... but on the other" about how she wants to say goodbye.
She said she thought she knew how she would approach his death but you know how it goes... life interrupts.
It makes me think a bit how I might approach my Father's death one day. My general plan has always been, that if someone (like his present wife) wasn't about to sort out the death stuff, I would make sure that it would be tended to. (make sure he was cremated, etc...) I don't know if I would do a funeral per se, but I would want to get together with my siblings and let us have our own emotions about it.
But if he was in the dying process... I am not quite sure what I would do. I am good at the practical, "let's do this, and that." but these fiddly emotional corners, I am unsure of. What is there to say goodbye to? "Goodbye sad man, who chose to be consumed by emotional poison."
"There were good moments. You taught me some things. Some of those bad things turned out to be useful, in that I chose to take the other path."
I don't want all of this to be sad sad sad. Today has been a nice day. An ordinary day in many ways. It is my wedding anniversary. We got the kids ready for school. He made them breakfast, I made sure the kids had their clothes. He reminded me of the permission slip I needed to sign. I did Miss Biscuit's hair. He supervised teeth-brushing. I took the kids to school. We sorted through the budget, discussed the trip to London for Miss Biscuit's US passport renewal. (may put it off for a month so the month isn't too crazy.) He sorted out the laptop that kept crashing. He went upstairs to work. I was downstairs doing my thing.
I picked up the kids from school, made tea for Mr. Jenner and I, listened to Miss Biscuit read, provided cookies to the kids, asked them about their day. I made a cake, and dinner. We had dinner. (always like dining with drunks when eating with kids.) Then he listened to Senor Onion read, entertained the kids. I put more laundry on, tidied up, got Miss Biscuit into her nightgown. He supervised teeth-brushing, and then read stories to Miss Biscuit. I hung out with Senor Onion, and got him a hot water bottle.
Once the kids were in bed, we watched Great British Bake-off, chatted about whatever.
Nine years. Not bad.
I buy houses the way I pick husbands. Feel half-hearted about most of what I encounter and then find one and go, "THAT ONE. I WANT THAT ONE. LET'S DO THIS! I AM DONE!"
