The Ryder Cup is being played this weekend. Something my parents and I have watched together for ages. My dad was really excited about watching it this year, but he just missed it. So far, I can't find the courage to turn it on and watch it this time because he was supposed to be eating popcorn and watching it with me. I'll probably feel the same about the World Series. Those were things we were both looking forward to watching together. It's hard to separate them from him, or even my mom who really enjoyed both events.
In some ways my family's grief was expected. Even before my dad was exposed to and so suddenly taken from us by COVID, I had texted my brothers to call or visit soon. I could see that he did not have much longer. It was getting harder to care for him, even for my strong nephews who could get him out of bed easier than I could. To be sure, we all knew that death would be the end of our caregiving roles, but it was still a shock when he died. He was supposed to be here for a few more months. I had planned to spend as much time as possible with him. To laugh, and watch stupid Westerns, and to let him eat whatever his heart desired. Patty Melt? No problem. Biscuits and Gravy? You've got it. Cinnamon rolls? Absolutely. Tacos? How many?? Ice cream? You bet. I enjoyed spoiling him and trying to ease his own grief over losing my mom.
Grief hits people in different ways whether it is expected or not. I don't know about you, but for me one of the hardest parts of grieving is the shift from "is" to "was". The mind shift from present to past tense is a humdinger. I find myself forgetting that both are gone. I think of them in the present tense. Surely this is just a bad dream. To be orphaned and all alone after so many years together and to lose them both just four months apart is grief upon grief. I mourn them separately, and together, and then separately again. Instantly all their failures are forgiven. Their annoying habits endearing. Repeated stories that used to drive me mad are now soothing. Their goofy, quirky personality traits are now my absolute favorites, and I wonder why I didn't appreciate them more in the here and now, instead of waiting until they became mere memories.
Loss of those we love cannot be reversed. It is final. The days go on; our lives continue; we bravely put one foot in front of the other, but everything is different forever. And gosh there is a lot of loss going around. Whether near or far it is an overload to our senses. Surreal. Endless. Senseless. And so very human.
As a Christian I believe that there is hope of a reunion in heaven someday. I believe that my parents are in the presence of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, holding hands in perfectly restored bodies. There is no doubt in my heart or soul. But even though I rejoice for them, the sucker punch of missing them nearly knocks me to the ground every morning. They are not here, and I know I will always miss them. I love you mom and dad. Until we meet again!
