Happy Anniversary!

Anniversary of what, you might ask?

Why, the delightful time of the year when my father died is upon us again. All the clichés come to mind: it doesn’t seem a year, I feel like he’s still here, always in our hearts. They are trite but that doesn’t detract from their essential truthfulness.

I knew but didn’t know it was just about a year, if that makes any sense at all. I will never enter July again without being transported back into a horrible month of seemingly ever present low grey cloud but I have tried to block out a lot. I don’t want to remember the awful hands-on tasks that stripped his dignity. I don’t want to remember trying and failing to stop his pain. I don’t want to remember becoming the person he disliked most of all, simply because hating me was the only form of control he had left.

I especially don’t want to remember encouraging the hospice nurse to pump him full of everything she could, in the sure knowledge I was hastening his death. Logically, I was doing the right thing and there was no blame attached but viscerally? Ahh, there’s a different story. The guilt attached to making the decision that caused my father to die that day will never leave me.

(And isn’t that a run-on sentence?)

I’ve pretty much successfully managed not to think about the horror of that last day; of the pain and suffering he endured and that I frantically tried to relieve; nothing worked (and he struggled against me the whole time) until six hours later I could get a nurse in.

I do not need to have it all brought up again and I don’t need to be reminded of my father’s last day on earth.

But my stepmother doesn’t feel like this. She is having a dinner on that day and wants the family to come.

When she told me, at first I thought I’d misheard.
Did I get it right?
We are doing a DEATH dinner for Dad?

(Yeah, that’s not what she called it but, essentially, it boils down to that.)

My brother and his family are going. My husband and I obviously can’t not go once she told us this. But….

Am I the only person in this family that thinks this is as creepy as hell?

Yes, I’ll be there but this is the only time I will raise a glass on the anniversary of my father’s passing.

In future, maybe we could stick to his birthday?

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About quirkycharm

I like to think that I have a certain quirky charm but I am probably being optimistic. Acquired taste, perhaps, which many don't acquire. This is about my fifth blog out there. My hosting companies kept going out of business or my IT exhusband kept hacking into them and I would move again. I don't do twitter, I barely do facebook, I don't try and 'monetize' my blog. I love my husband, my grown children and my job and this particular incarnation of oversharing my life comes at a time when I am the most content that I have ever been. I write always, sporadically during the good stuff and exhaustingly during the bad.
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