End
Apparently, my father died two weeks ago. Searching online for exactly this sort of information, I came across his death notice. I feel no joy nor grief, no anger nor even relief. A huge wave of something broke over me, as though I'd bashed my head very hard, and am left stunned and shaken, but without pain. Jostled and odd.
I thought, "Well, 42 years of wishing finally worked." But I don't feel that way. I do not know what all this is that overwhelms me, leaving my hands trembling.
The next choice is if I should even bother to contact the remaining genetic kin, who made no effective effort to contact me. Cleaner, simpler, if we just all keep it polite and distant. I let my dear cousin in Massachusetts know. She may not even have been told. I expect not. I did sign the online guestbook, offered my condolences on their loss, and left my email. So they know, if they chose to look, no excuses later. The door is unlocked, that is all.
Please, do not offer me condolences. That would be completely inappropriate.
He was 88. He was a soul in torment all his life, that he blamed and spread that misery does not negate his own suffering. I sincerely hope there is nothing after death, no hell, no heaven, just a recycling into the eternity. He is, for my part, now utterly and unconditionally forgiven.
I thought, "Well, 42 years of wishing finally worked." But I don't feel that way. I do not know what all this is that overwhelms me, leaving my hands trembling.
The next choice is if I should even bother to contact the remaining genetic kin, who made no effective effort to contact me. Cleaner, simpler, if we just all keep it polite and distant. I let my dear cousin in Massachusetts know. She may not even have been told. I expect not. I did sign the online guestbook, offered my condolences on their loss, and left my email. So they know, if they chose to look, no excuses later. The door is unlocked, that is all.
Please, do not offer me condolences. That would be completely inappropriate.
He was 88. He was a soul in torment all his life, that he blamed and spread that misery does not negate his own suffering. I sincerely hope there is nothing after death, no hell, no heaven, just a recycling into the eternity. He is, for my part, now utterly and unconditionally forgiven.
Posted by Zhoen on Sunday, September 25, 2011
23 comments:
Such news, even in your particularly specific circumstance, can leave one numb for a spell, but as with all things, it will pass.
I wouldn't know how to explain your response, either, Z. I hope it passes for you soon.
If it's any comfort to you, I had a similar-sounding response when my father, a physically abusive alcoholic, died. I hadn't lived in his company for over fifteen years, and any love I had for him was long gone, preceded by many years by any respect I had had. I attributed my response to having the final tie to him cut, a sense of release rather than relief, as if the little kid inside who still lived in fear of him was now set free.
Perhaps our experiences are not alike, but what you described is very like what I felt when I learned my father had died.
(o)
Phil,
I'm sure it will pass. The surprize is how much I'm affected at all.
Crow,
Sounds very like, yes. Thank you. A moment of reliving it all, submerged.
(o)
No condolences, I understand that, but I will offer virtual (and thus I hope non-invasive) hugs.
I have had grief hit me that way -- huge in its emptiness, in its lack of content. Made me wonder at the time (I was very young then) if maybe I was a psychopath: I knew I was supposed to be sad and feel like crying or something, but all I felt was that something huge and invisible had rolled past me. I wasn't sure I felt anything at all. As I grew older in grief I learned that the emptiness I felt was, in fact, one of the many ways of experiencing grief. "Not feeling anything at all" -- I could only see in retrospect -- was an intense and sometimes nearly disabling feeling. But that's just my experience, of a very different loss.
(I don't mean grieving for the actual man, of course, in your case; I mean grieving for the relationship you should have had and never did, for the man who should have been there for you and wasn't. In some ways I imagine this death will feel less like a loss than like the universe finally lining up with emotional reality.)
Expect some more wallops at odd times. xoxo
Dale,
Thank you, that all rings true. A huge vacuum of everything, rolling by, sucking me in, like a wave deep under. Hugs gladly accepted.
second Dale's words. Well said, every one.
gz,
I understand the loss of a loved one, as do you. Dealing with the death of a once important, but bad person, looks to be a different, and much weirder process.
(o)
hope you may give me a lead then.
My mother, the family bully, was asking to go into a home three years and more ago. It has taken until now, and now with vascular dementia she cannot communicate, and wanders, and cannot understand that she is where she wants to be. So she is in a secure unit.
I am building bridges with my brother who is now on his own after looking after her for years as she only listened to him. She burnt her bridges with me finally fourteen years ago. So how will I feel when she is physically gone as well as mentally?
At least you have given the others in your family a contact point, the rest is up to them.
Dear Zhoen, many hugs from me too (and some for gz). I can't say more eloquently than Dale did what a huge and difficult thing I think this may be. One day it will be me finding out my mother is dead(she's 88 too) - likely in the way that you did - and I know it will feel very strange and hard in ways I can't even imagine. All my solidarity in this strange time. Take good care of yourself.
(o)
Yes, solidarity, and hugs, not condolences. The others have said it all. Take care, be well, much love.
(0) Thinking of you.
(o) What we grieve for is the death of possibility, for an alternative ending to the story. Even more so when the relationship has been unsatisfactory or painful.
(0) xo
Here's a hug for you, Z. And a strong ale.
take care and feel what you need to feel (or not feel, as may be the case). it is hard not to offer condolences, because it is what one is expected to do in such cases, but i'll take that impulse and turn it into hope that you will find your way through this and come out with a greater sense of peace.
Not condolences, and the lovely phrase I am sorry for your loss does not apply here because you can't lose what you didn't have. But still, grief is about so much more (as has already been said in comments here). A huge thing for you to process, I imagine. Take good care of yourself.
It will take a long time to sort out all those feelings but it will happen eventually. To forgive is already a big step.I'm thinking of you.
I sometimes wonder what, if anything, will happen when my father dies. If anyone will seek me out to tell me, if I'll be expected to mingle or console with people I don't know at all.
So no condolences from me, or advice. Just a self-centred little comment.
Pacian,
Not self centered, just a different POV, which is what we all need. I wondered about it for a long time, which I think is helping - just not as much as I'd hoped.
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