The day after

I suppose it's possible that I'm still in denial or something but I actually feel pretty good today. I have a pretty positive view of death and dying so maybe this is my general state. Either way, I'm not complaining.

Baga and I got through the plans for the visiting hours/funeral/burial and all of that, and aside from the price tag I think it all went okay. We're pretty similar people so it wasn't terribly hard to pick out all the stuff. I will say that the whole experience has completely and totally confirmed my desire to be cremated and have the most simple service ever. Wow.

Rick also talked to dad's doctor who was equally surprised about everything, since he'd seen dad a couple of weeks ago, taken blood, and given him a clean bill of health. I guess current speculation is that dad had some sort of serious infection that just got worse and worse, and in his stubbornness he just kept going and waiting for it to fix itself. He had a couple of boils that he had been complaining about, and he'd been encouraged to see a doctor. I don't know why I'm really reading up on this right now, but apparently boils are staph infections and untreated boils can cause septicemia (blood poisoning). That sounds exactly like what happened. It kills me to think that perhaps it all could have been averted with a trip to the doctor... so I just don't think that way. Cognitive restructuring at its finest!

I went through a bunch of my dad's mail and found a couple of bills and some other stuff, and made a big pile of junk mail. It's kind of weird to be in his apartment without him there. When we all lived together we lived on the first floor, but sometime after I moved out he decided to go to the second, so it's never seemed like my place. (I don't even have a key.) I don't know if I was ever in there without him, except maybe the one night Jen and I slept on his floor when he was recovering from heart surgery.

Visiting hours at the funeral parlor are on Sunday from 4-8pm, and the funeral will be Monday morning at 10:00. If anyone is interested in attending, feel free to contact me and I will get you the details. I know that there are people I should be contacting, but I just haven't felt like doing it. I've got a bit of a sore throat that absolutely has to go away. Like now. And I'm kind of enjoying being in my own head a little.

Really, when you get right down to it, my father could have died in 2001 when he had his big heart attack. I feel like I got 3.5 extra years, and I'm totally okay with that.

She lives in the place in the side of our lives where nothing is ever put straight

I think that maybe I don't know how to grieve properly or something. Oh sure, I know there's no right way or whatever but I got to thinking about when A. and I broke up and it was much the same thing. I sat around and felt like I should be more upset, more unable to cope, something. Anything.

When A. and I broke up, I was mostly okay all the time and then would occasionally get totally pissed off at him. And that was it. From Acceptance to Anger to Acceptance and back again.

I went into work for a little bit today to drop off some things (like my time sheet) and make some phone calls without my cell phone. Several of my coworkers stopped by my office to make sure I was okay (which was nice) and they all commented on how surprised they are at how well I'm doing. It just makes me wonder when people say that, you know? *shrug* I mean, yes, it's sad. Yes, it's terrible. Yes, it's hard for my family and we will miss him horribly and we miss him already. Yes, I'm concerned about his affairs, and his debts, and his belongings. I'm concerned about the effects on my brother. But how can I be so overcome with grief on this beautiful day, with beautiful sun and beautiful sky and fresh sea air in my lungs? In the dark, late at night, that's a different story, I suppose. But the joy of public life and diving into work is the Gods-given ability to compartmentalize, right?

I know there's plenty of time for me to be beside myself with grief, and I know that I should take these days as a blessing instead of wondering what is wrong with me. But I can't help it, I wonder. What is wrong with me?

I'm not a heartless person. I know I have a huge heart, a lot of love, a lot of compassion. Where is it? Is it still in there somewhere and I just don't know it? Or does it just choose not to manifest itself in tears?

Skinny Minnie

Today I bought some dress-up clothes for the funeral and such. I needed something more light-weight than most of my current dress-up clothes because it's summertime and it's supposed to be hot this weekend. (As an aside, I hope a short-sleeved shirt and dress pants are adequate.)

Everything I got was a smaller size than most of the pants/shirts I have in my closet. That's pretty cool.

Now I'm going to eat some ice cream.