My uncle B died this evening. I didn’t get to say goodbye. I hate that. I hate saying goodbye too, but not being able to is worse somehow. I drove all the way in to town, parked the vehicle, and walked up to the hospital doors. As soon as I opened the doors and I smelled that hospital smell I was done. Even though it has been almost two years when I was walking in those doors daily, often more than once a day, to sit in hospice with my dad. Almost two years and I still can’t walk through the doors……..
I wasn’t able to collect myself. And really, it’s not about me. My aunt and cousins did not need to see me still unable to contain the grief I feel about losing my dad. Most days I make it through just fine. But I just could not physically take the steps to go in. I came home and watched tennis, the French Open is on at Roland Garos. I love the red clay, la terre battue. And why does it seem people I love die during tennis majors? I watched Roger Federer win the US Open on a Sunday afternoon. And then I held my dad as the sun was coming up the next day and he was dying.
I was going to try again tomorrow.
I ran out of tomorrows.
I am happy you aren’t in pain anymore B., and you know I loved you. Cancer is a bitch. Really it is. You were funny and a hard worker. And your kids love you and your grandkids are going to miss you so much. M. will be okay, we’ll take care of her. And could you say hi to Dad for me, you know how much I miss him. The heartbreaking thing is I know what your kids are going through because they lost a dad they loved fiercely too. I’m glad I have many happy memories of you. Sauna’s at camp, bringing firewood to mom’s, sneaking a sip of beer, reliving what it’s like to have Ukranian/Polish/Russian parents, and laughing. Lots of laughter. Thank you.
Mara ~ I thought I’d have another tomorrow…