Grief

It comes in waves. Late afternoon sunshine flooding the dining room, and me standing in the foyer looking at his picture on the mantle. September When it Comes is playing on the radio. I was fine a second ago, but now the tears fill my eyes and everything becomes blurred. Yesterday while talking to someone about the funeral, I said The day Daddy died...I stopped and heard my own words with fresh appraisal. My DADDY died!. It still seems unreal. 

I find myself restless. My hands don't know what to do with themselves. My dreams are interrupted by early morning wakeups and feverish thoughts. I find myself staring into space a lot. Fiddling with my phone. 

The way he looked on his last day of life. So frail and thin. It haunts me. So precious in his weakness. 

I really thought he had more time. It occurred to me that he could go that night, but I really didn't believe it. I thought maybe another week. 

When Sarah woke me early in the morning , it was a shock. So soon? I thought. I had only arrived the afternoon before, prepared to stay for weeks if I needed to, not knowing I would not be needed after all. 

But I'm so glad I was there for him on his last day. 

I had followed quickly behind her as she entered the bedroom where he had been sleeping. I stood by the bed and assessed him. His hands were warm but he was no longer breathing. I reached out and touched his chest. No heartbeat.  To my great disbelief he was really gone. Just like that. One minute here and the next gone. 

I came back home and began the forever process of grieving. I have lost grandparents and an uncle, but this is very different. I am forever changed.