Relief

   I am still in the middle of lots of paper-worky (my new favourite word) kinds of things to do with tidying up the details of my Dad's passing. As time has progressed, things have become steadily less stressful and time-consuming. This has given me a little more time and headspace to reflect on some of the things his passing has meant.

   I am relieved.

Karen, thank you...

   This feeling of relief has been gradually growing in me, almost imperceptibly. It occasionally stops me dead in my tracks, during unoccupied moments. My new-found sense of relief stems from no longer having to worry about my father. I no  longer need to worry if he's safe, I no longer need worry about his finances, there's no need to worry about a slow decline with Alzheimer's and having to find a nursing home.
   It had not occurred to me before just how much mental and emotional energy I was allotting my Dad, subconsciously. Whenever a worry or concern popped up consciously I always managed to tuck it away somewhere. Anything I might need to worry about was years away and so easy to avoid thinking about it now. At least knowingly thinking about it...
   Above all else, I guess, was the fear that he would die. Realistically, I knew the man was almost 86 and simply would not live forever and that, at some point, I would be faced with dealing with this eventuality. I did have some doubts as to my ability to do this. Three month ago, however, if you'd told me my Dad would live for another ten years I would have said that this was probably not a bad estimate. And that was about as soon as I would need to deal with his passing, I thought.

   This estimate, of course, was incorrect and we all found ourselves dealing with Dad's death long before I think most of us thought we might have to. I don't think this is terribly uncommon in families, I think quite often death occurs at times when some families are the least prepared for it. Each time this happens the family wonders how it possibly will be able to handle it and move on. But then they do, and they get through it somehow, more or less intact.
   My Dad's death kind of snuck up on us. It was not preceded by any lengthy illness and was not something we had been preparing or planning for. There was only about a two-week period when it seemed as though death was the most likely outcome for him and this was the time we were given. It was just about time enough for some good-byes and a little resolution.
   So, apart from the afore-mentioned paper-worky kinds of things still needing to be dealt with, many of the reasons I might have had for subconscious anxiety over my Dad have been resolved. The best part is, I think they have been resolved to his satisfaction. Ostensibly right to the end he was fully in charge of his own life. His legacy will be hard to live up to in terms of the love, admiration and respect his family, friends and colleagues had for him. That is as much as many of us would likely ask for at the ends of our lives.
   So I do feel relief. It is not the jumping-up-and-down-for-joy kind of relief, as you might expect. It is certainly a very quiet and self-contained kind of feeling. I find myself wondering whether my Dad is now experiencing some kind of relief of his own, wherever he may be. I almost know that he is.
   Me? I feel just a little lighter...