Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Tenses

My car is overdue for an oil change.

I've been thinking about it and not doing it, and feeling guilty, but still postponing. And then Nick asked, out of the blue, if I'd gotten my oil changed recently.

I burst into tears. "My dad always does that for me."

Did. I mean did.

I find myself talking about my dad in the present tense sometimes. "My dad likes...liked..."

He's been so much on my mind lately. I've been crying very easily at the thought of him.

The other night I dreamt that he invited an old boyfriend - someone I was with for a significant time period - over for dinner.

And I knew my dad was dead as I was dreaming it, but there we were, having dinner.

A couple weeks ago, Nick's uncle, who had colon cancer that ultimately spread to his bones, called to say he was going to end his life the following morning. He was in too much pain. He couldn't suffer any longer. He was saying his goodbyes.

He lived in Switzerland, where apparently they have assisted suicide.

And so, one by one, the family called him to say goodbye.

I think about that, and how I would've liked a goodbye.

I don't even know what our final conversation was about. Consumer Reports and carseats or something stupid like that, I think. But I can't remember. This bothers me.

You'd think he would've called for some kind of goodbye conversation.

Maybe it had been too much, too long. I know he didn't want to chance being saved again. We'd have tracked down the hotel or the cell phone. Maybe that was it.

Or maybe goodbye was just too hard.

20 comments:

  1. Hang in there - it gets better. It has been over a year and I still talk about my dad in the present tense most of the time. I also still call where my mom lives "Mom and Dad's house". A goodbye would have been nice, instead my last conversation was a disagreement. But we live and learn and it does get better. Now go squeeze that little cutie of yours.

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  2. Oh, man, I can't even imagine how hard it must be. You're really strong. Big hugs to you.

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  3. oh my. i guess we all think about these things differently based on our experiences and i can't begin to imagine how you feel. obviously you'll never know why but there was a very low point in my life where i pondered these types of things... and if it were me i wouldn't be able to do any goodbyes - talking to those people who i would want to say "goodbye" to would make me reconsider. and that'd be a struggle in itself
    on the other hand if someone called me to say goodbye i would feel like a failure because i couldn't talk them out of it.

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  4. I don't know if you'll ever get all the answers that you desire. How can you not hurt, wonder and dream of him? He was obviously in a lot of pain to make a decision like that. When my best friend died a few years ago, she knew when the end was near. We talked about it, but never said goodbye. I just couldn't. So maybe it's all moment to moment and how much your heart can take. Anyway, hug Big J and have him make a few raspberries for you-and hang in there. :)

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  5. My brother died suddenly 7 years ago at the age of 39. I still don't know what to say when people ask if I have sibilings. Do I just mention my sister? Or my brother too?

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  6. I think when I dream about my dead father, it IS his way of visiting. It helps me. I hope the thought helps you.

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  7. I'm at a loss for words but am sending hugs.

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  8. I know it's no consolation, but you truly amaze and inspire me. One day I hope to be a 36th as strong as you.

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  9. The what ifs are always a bitch.

    Big hugs to you, lady.

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  10. I have no words to help. Just know that I'm thinking of you and wishing you comfort.

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  11. Lisa - beautiful post to your dad. Many hugs to you. Thanks for such honesty. I am wiping away tears because your words speak very true . . .
    Kiran

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  13. As sad as this post makes me, I'm happy that you are able to see your father in your dreams. I agree with the commenter who said that he is visiting you...and, if so, maybe there really was no reason to say goodbye.

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  14. I'm sorry :-( sending strength and hugs your way

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  15. i'm sorry.... i also like the idea that your dad is "visiting" you in your dreams.

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  16. when those dreams happen, it means that you are beginning to heal, to put the reality alongside the want, and deal with both. Doesn't make it any easier, but your head and your heart are working on getting better. Best wishes, dearheart.

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