Clematis

I think this is a really hard thing. It's really hard to know what happens after someone dies, and even though I hear my dad's voice, I don't really know where he is or what's going on or how long that will keep happening or anything else. I have way more questions than answers. I don't really have any answers. I don't sense my mother near me-except a couple of times. Is she across the country with my sisters? I don't really think so, and they haven't heard from her. Is my dad with my mother? I don't really know but somehow I have the sense that she is with her father and her father's mother, the people I believed she loved above all others from when she was born. Where is she? Can my dad spiritually be with my mother and me both? Are they far apart from each other? What is he doing? I ask him questions and he doesn't answer. When I become very distraught, I feel him settling around me in a way that's hard to describe. It is as subtle as adding or removing humidity to a room, but I don't feel it-I sense it. It is as if it had begun raining outside and I couldn't really hear it-I just have the idea that it is raining. And sometimes I hear his voice and I sense the words in a way that is different than if a live person was in the room talking to me. It's possible that I am more sensitive to this because I have synesthesia and some odd sensitivities, I don't know. But all of this, while interesting, doesn't really do anything for me. It's not that it makes me feel better or keeps me company. Well he probably has nudged me to get things fixed on the car or not run out of gas or something, but it doesn't really make me feel any better or comfort me, although I think he is trying. Maybe it's a help to know that he is trying, but he's still gone and he's not coming back. Maybe it's good to know that I will see him again some day, and I've realized how much he was bonded to me since the beginning. But right now, it's not what I need. I need him and he's never coming back as a live person to be with me however much he may be hovering around.

You are right; she definitely has significant personal issues. And actually she is around...she lives between New Orleans and Biloxi, but comes out to Cottonwood (20 minutes from me) every summer to escape the humidity and the hurricanes. She arrived the day after I returned from Hawaii, but I haven't seen her, and talked to her very little. I think she knows that unloading a giant pile of b.s. on me right after my father's memorial service was insensitive if not cruel. Unfortunately, she finds a way to turn things around so that her victim becomes her perpetrator-and a justifiable target. I know better than to search that out. I'm fairly certain she has a personality disorder, but one doesn't diagnose one's friends. She has said some unbelievingly vicious things to me in the past, and never apologized. After sufficient time, the events just look smaller from a distance. She is a fabulous musician, brilliant and very interesting, but I can't take it right now. Right now I need comfort more than stimulation...

I think it's different for everybody, but what I do know for sure is that when you love someone and they're gone, the relationship changes but it doesn't stop. The love is still there.

I think so too. I don't see him, but I hear him and I feel his presence. To me that is more real than those ashes across the room in the jar, because it is my own experiences. How do I know that is his ashes? I wasn't there. I supposed it's true because I don't think people in the cremation business make up stuff like that. I think it's more likely that he is dead than alive, even though I didn't personally see the body. And I have his watch, which he was wearing when he died, and it was returned to me. I think if he was alive he would have contacted me by now. So I think I kind of have to believe he is dead, even though the death certificate was signed by his own doctor, who also did not see the body. I am not absolutely certain, just fairly sure. But I totally believe that he talks to me because I hear him.

I live in Sedona, which is a very spiritual, even woo-woo place. People talk about all kinds of things I'm not sure of... But I hear about a lot of people talk about how those who have passed are right here beside us where they can see us but we can't see them. They talk about how there is some kind of veil in between...

I swear I hear my dad talking to me, and I have heard him talking to me since he died. Sometimes I talk to him out loud and sometimes it's more like thoughts directed at him inside my head. I have the impression that it doesn't really matter-he hears me just the same. I have had people tell me that it's just re-runs of things he said before or my projections of what I think he would say. But they don't get it, and I really don't care what they think. Some things you have to experience in order to understand, no matter what you think you know. I have had friends who went through cancer treatments and were terrified that they were going to die. I can understand why they were afraid, but I really can't way I know what that's like or what I would do in their place. Just one example about my dad's talking to me...something was wrong with one of the airbags in my car. I wasn't sure at first what that particular trouble light meant because I had never seen it. I talked to him about it several times, and he didn't say much about it. He was very tired and could barely to manage the most basic activities of daily living. This went on for a few years. He never had much to say about it, and I had no idea if this was a big deal or not. But after he died, I felt his presence with me in the car. He was there in the car with me and he was no longer weighed down by a body with Parkinson's. He saw the light whenever he got in the car, and he kept telling me, "You need to get that taken care of. You need to take care of that." Over and over and over. He also nagged me about the bald tires on the back until I replaced them, and then there is the "Go get some gas. No, go now. I can't rescue you if you run out. Go get some gas." And I do. I can't explain it and so I just take it at face value. I think he has deeply loved me ever since I was born and I think he's still looking out for me. And sometimes he has a better view than he did when he was alive...

I know what you mean-I am in the same boat!

Thanks, Kay. Yeah...I have...I've told them that it's discouraging and demoralizing, and pointed out that even though it seems daunting, we have to keep charging ahead because I have to pull this off. I can't pay another year on my dad's condo upkeep-it will come out of my retirement funds ultimately, and it's not like there is that much there! I can't afford to take a big hit like that. Also, the stress of dealing with two households while working is just too much. It has to be done this summer, no matter who feels discouraged. I think we've come around a corner this week though...the housekeeper came over and dusted and vacuumed the carpet at my house, and we got almost everything else that was remaining on the carpet-except the furniture-off the carpet. This is rather amazing, because it was like a landslide had occurred all over the house. I have a good friend who told me that I was a hoarder and that is why the house looked like that-and my dad was a hoarder as well. This woman is a professional musician who practices, teaches a few lessons, and cleans her house. That's it. No family, children, or even a pet at this point. I explained that my dad's house looked like it did because he had PD and it was too hard for him to clean his house, or even get stuff to the waste basket, or once there to empty the trash outside. I was working more than full time, producing art, playing music in several groups, and taking care of my dad. I live in a small condo with stuff for all my activities and sports, and have inadequate storage to even start to figure out where to find homes for things. Anyone who even looked up "hoarder" on the internet could figure out that did not apply to either my dad or me, and anyone who thought about it could figure out what my house might look like inside, with me always on the go running in and out, and for the most part only sleeping there. She became so angry with me that I refused to "admit" that my dad and I were both hoarders that she stopped speaking to me. For awhile. But we've been friends for 30 years, she's always been unstable, and living through Katrina made her rather fragile as well. I haven't talked to her much this summer. When I do talk to her, I sense that her rage is bubbling under the surface, and try to keep it brief. I think she is concerned about me, but I can't handle the way she expresses her emotions right now. Not this year. Anyway, about the corner, I think we're getting close to being ready for action. I think I will get a storage room to put my own furniture in-very temporarily. Then, I think we will be almost ready to start prepping to paint. Once we paint, we can get the carpet installed. Then we clean the Persian rug. When it is dry, we move my dad's furniture down up to my house and then my stuff and me. We can then move my furniture from the storage unit to my dad's house, from where we can work on selling it. Whatever is left at my dad's house in the garage can be dealt with then, and there will be a place to sit and whatnot while whoever is there working on it is there. I'll figure that out as it comes.

Thank you, Marty. I have a grief counselor-Dale, through the Hospice He has been really helpful, and he has said all of those things. We usually talk once a week, and it is often on the phone because the half hours it takes each way makes it not fit in between his and my helpers' schedules. Dale has told me that my spending some of the money in my father's estate-even though part of it is my sisters' is entirely justifiable because I took care of him of him for ten years, and am taking care of his affairs now--while they did nothing to help then or now. Everything went downhill at both of our houses because I was taking care of our father with PD, leaving mountains of clutter, destroying both carpets, etc. So much food and red wine and everything else onto the carpeting-especially at my house. The day he dropped a heaping spoon of guacamole onto the carpet and inadvertently stepped on it before I could do anything about it, I just gave up and decided to stop fighting the mess on the carpet, replace it after he was gone, and stop worrying about it-because it probably made him feel badly watching me scrubbing at the carpet in the middle of almost every meal. The carpet was old anyway and I never liked the color of it. The carpet is 18 years old now and full of dust-and I am very allergic to dust. Also, the mattress I have been sleeping on for the past 11 years came with my house when I bought it-and I am allergic to it. It has some pertumey smell that couldn't be fixed, even by airing and by sleeping on the bottom of the pillow top mattress instead of the top. Stripping my house down to the carpet and getting rid of it will be good for my health. Dale has pointed out that my sisters have every obligation to help pay for the cost of things now because they weren't helping before and they aren't helping now. The cost of dealing with the mess now is a direct result of my dad's PD. Also, he has said many times that given his PD and inherent decline, most anyone would have put him into assisted living-a LONG time ago. He has said many times that anything we get ($$) at this point should be seen as a bonus because had he been in assisted living years ago everything of any value and all of the money would have been gone a long time ago. Also, it is a bonus that I earned by breaking my back trying to help him live at home until the end. I wanted him here, a minute and a half from my door, but more importantly it was what he wanted. I told him over and over, "I don't want to be a selfish pig and keep you here to myself if you think it would be more fun or more interesting to live in assisted living-I'll take you to see some of them." He steadfastly declined to even think about it. Dalle talks to me about strategies in grief...four or so...mostly about delegating and paying people (which I have done a lot of) and postponement. He agrees that my idea of trying to get moved this summer-rather than next summer-is reasonable given the expense in time and money of maintaining two houses over the school year. Nevertheless, as Dale has told me, it's really too soon and too early for me in my grief process to be doing this now. But since I work in the schools I am kind of stuck. I am finding more and more ways to postpone things, with Dale's encouragement. I don't have to paint my kitchen or bathroom before the carpeting and move. They can be done later. I can leave a bunch of stuff at my dad's house after I move (that I don't need) and pay someone(s) to keep sorting - with my occasional input - after the school year starts. Right now I am seriously panicking, and I think things have gotten worse because of this artificially induced timeline. I feel way more pressure because of the workload and the approaching deadline of school starting. I also fear that same deadline because when I move back to my own house because once I cut loose of his condo, it will be gone forever. Actually as soon as I move my stuff back in and get his furniture over there, his house will never look like his house again. It will be an empty shell and the thought of that makes me cry. I have told my friend Greg, the photographer, that I want my house (a mirror image of his) to look just like his, except with blue carpeting. He keeps telling me that is no problem - we just have to take pictures of my dad's place before I move. He is probably right, but the uncertainty produces anxiety - a lot of it. I have no idea what it will be like, only fear and hopes. There is also a lot of work to be done, and when my helpers have doubts, I really panic. Uh-oh-I hear one of them coming up the walk. Back to work!

You seem smart to me-in the ways that make a difference. I think you are right about "the kids making their own living" and all hell breaking loose. Neither of my sisters had to make a living for very long, and somehow they seem to think that they deserve more because of that. Huh? My dad decided what he wanted to do with his estate, and before that, what to do with his wife's (our mother's) estate and property. A significant part of the money that ended up in my parents' estate-and went first to my dad-came from my mother's family. I never heard this, but apparently my mother used to talk about how it was going to go to her "girls". My sisters-esp the younger one- interpreted this as meaning that my dad should just hand it over to the three of us as soon as she was dead. They tried to get me to coax him into doing so. What a pair of greedy nut balls! My dad had Parkinson's Disease and he needed more than his pension and SSI provided. He also used his money carefully and with discretion rescuing all three of us during the recession. And now my younger sister has Parkinsons Disease and I'm sure she is hoping that her new husband is going to help her and set things up to continue to take care of her if he dies first...and he is ten years older than her. Take care of yourself, Marg-it really sounds like you have a lot on your plate!

She is awfully cute!

Natalie, I am so sorry to hear about the loss of your dad. I am also grieving the loss of my dad. All I can tell you is what you are going through is entirely normal. It is normal to have ups and downs in close relationships, and it makes sense that you would feel more guilt if he happened to die at a time when you were not getting along. Nevertheless, guilt seems to be rather universal for people suffering a loss, and we all wonder what would have happened if we had done this or that, or not done this or that. Unfortunately it goes with the territory, and it doesn't necessarily mean you did anything wrong. I'm sure your dad knew very well how much you loved him; I don't think that he would forget that because you happened to be upset with him at the time of his passing. I also had a period when I was very angry with my dad and really let him hear about it. I was lucky in that I had a number of years after that to become friends with him, and even closer because we had worked out the early stuff. Nevetrheless, I also have felt a lot of guilt related to my dad's death and his difficulties near the end of his life. I have been going through his things during the 5-1/2 months since he died and almost every day I learn and realize more about how difficult things were with him at the end. But I didn't do anything wrong and I didn't know more about his struggles because he hid it from me; he didn't want me to know. Also, we were very close. I took care of him during the last ten years of his life (my mother died 11 years ago and I talked him into moving across the country from PA to AZ). We didn't live in the same house, but I could get in my car in front of my condo and be at the door at his condo in a minute and a half. From the very beginning, I have asked myself what if I had done this or that, but I know that it is just part of what you go through in grief. I know in my mind that there is no one who would even start to wonder if I could have done more for my dad. I did everything humanly possible for him. But that didn't keep me from feeling guilt, and if anything I probably have felt a lot deeper grief because I became so invested in helping him to survive and have the best quality of life he could have. Everyone who grieves has a different grief and a different situation, and yet we are still on the same path. I hope you keep coming back to us on the forum here and share your story and your experiences. Take care of yourself, and remember-we are here for you. Laura

Hello Chris, I am glad you found our site and shared your story with us. It is really very sad; you have had a lot of loss in your family and anyone would feel grief-stricken by that. I think you are right in that it is more disturbing when people die that are close to your own age. It's harder to have people in your parents' generation die than people in your grandparents' generation, and it's even scarier to have people your own age or younger pass away, because it's hard to not think that it could be you. It sounds like you have had a difficult life with serious health problems, and I am sorry to hear that. Life is difficult enough without those struggles. But that doesn't mean that you should die before your cousin; she was very young to die, and it sounds like maybe you're not sure what she died of. But it is not your fault and you have nothing to feel guilty about. It sounds like normal grief to me. It is very normal to cry and feel terrible after someone close to you dies. Please take care of yourself, make sure you are eating well, drinking fluids, sleeping enough and staying away from situations or people that would make you feel worse. Be extra careful when you are driving, walking, or doing anything that might injure you if you weren't entirely focused on what you are doing. Grief is very difficult, and it exhausts you by using up resources that you may not even be aware of. And please, keep coming back here. You will get other responses from people on the forum. And please keep posting about what you are going through. All of us have somewhat different situations, but we are all on the same path and are here for you. Laura

I had some things like that happen with rabbits after my mother died. She loved rabbits-more like was obsessed with them. A rabbit would come running up to me on a trail somewhere and stop 6-8 feet away and stare at me. This happened several times, and I got the feeling that she was trying to tell me something. I finally started talking to these rabbits, asking them what they were trying to tell me. I finally got the idea that she was telling me to take care of my dad, which I was doing. It stopped for a long time, and then a couple of months before my dad died, it started again with the rabbits. I was afraid she was coming to tell me that she was tired of waiting and wanted my dad to join her. But no, that wasn't it. And this time the message was more clear, and what I got from it was that she "always did love me", which was a surprise. When my dad died, he was much more communicative, and I have heard him actually talking to me. Especially in the beginning I hear him talking to me, but if I am particularly upset, I hear him talking to me. He has offered advice, nagged me to take care of things about my car, and said he was sorry to have left me-that he just couldn't do it anymore. I have asked him a lot of questions about what I should do, but he doesn't answer questions. On the other hand he wasn't good about that when he was alive. Me: "What do you think about ...?" Him: ...silence...

It seems like every little thing is something that makes me feel sad-or worse. I am listening to the radio and heard them read out some lottery numbers, and it made me think of a day in January when the Powerball was bigger than it had ever been. I bought a ticket and wrote, "Good Luck, Daddy!" on it. The Wednesday of the big drawing...my dad died about 3:00 in the morning...Some luck! I think it was what he wanted-at least in part; I think he was very tired of struggling so hard to do the simplest things. I sure miss him, and I am getting rather exhausted myself. It is hard dealing with two households and two of everything. His taxes, my taxes. Is his checking account going to bounce before some money gets in there? No-it's mine! (saved it in the nick of time). It's just too much to be doing this alone after not enough time has passed...

It seems likely that my increasing anxiety is at least partly due to the timelines of the move and handling my father's affairs and possessions. And there's the complications of the car accident and handling all of this with a concussion-or post concussion, or whatever it is. I am being referred to a neurologist because the OT's evaluation, as well as the observation and evaluation of the speech path is that I am having a lot of problems with sequencing, complex tasks where I need to juggle things, and distraction, especially when I am being timed. Also, my sweet attorney who is handling the car accident, was called out of town on a special assignment in D.C. for six weeks, and so someone else is handling all that. I just sent a contract online to the person who is handling my case, inquiring about his email address since I got a letter today that someone other that I needs to handle. The other guy, who is actually one of the senior partners, fielded the contact request almost immediately, asking that I send him the letter. That was reassuring!

I find myself wondering how long this is going to last...how long will I have days when I feel like there is an elephant on my chest, I can't swallow, and I keep crying. I am having more trouble sleeping, which makes everything worse. I thought I was going to be getting off the Valium, but I guess it's not the right time. Again. I feel a lot of fear...or I guess it's really anxiety. It seems like things are actually getting worse and not better. Maybe it's because I am getting so worried about getting my house ready and getting moved back in before the start of the school year. My helpers seem somewhat less than confident, which is terrifying.

It's funny-it seems like much longer and it also seems like practically yesterday. Or maybe it didn't even happen and it was all a bad dream and here I am sitting in his chair at the dining room table and he is really in his leather chair at the other end of the room and is going to ask me if I am going to make dinner or should we go out because I'm going something on the computer and it's getting late. Thanks, Kay-I appreciate your sympathy about my being under the gun. I try to keep plugging away and trying not to panic. I try to get as much done when I can and have resolved myself to the fact that I can't really get anything done alone. I don't understand why I am paralyzed and unable to do anything alone, but I just keep working at lining up all the help I can get. No one else seems to be wondering why I need someone with me all the time-it is only I who thinks I should be able to work on this 7 days a week, 10 or so hours a day.

I wish I was moving more slowly, but it seems really important to get moved back into my own house so that I can get my dad's house on the market or on the foreclosure path or whatever is going to happen to it, because it's expensive paying double mortgage, utilities, and so on. Also, I go back to work-very full time in August... You are right-gradual would have been much better!

It's terrible having crazy and mean people in your family. Kay and Marg-I really feel for both of you. I think we have a lot in common in our relatives that no one would wish on anybody! Speech can be tricky...since the car accident, I've been coming up with the wrong word as well as having other speech problems. The speech pathologist told me she's not sure what she can do to help me, but she's going to try. I sure hope it's not permanent, because I need to talk at meetings and use correct and professional language. Maybe the singing will help (see my post under Falling). Laura

I'm not ready...but I'm fearless. Well, I do have respect for the forces of nature and the crazies that should give one pause, but fearless I am when it comes to personal courage. It's funny, but other people saw this long before I ever did. I kept thinking of myself as the quavering girl that was terrified to even speak (and had a terrible stammer), the girl that my mother bullied and badgered and tried to break. But somehow I always had the courage to stand behind my convictions and frequently say what no one else would because they were afraid. I realize now that my mother saw that all along and that was the reason she tried harder on me than my sisters to break me. But somehow I learned that if one goes after the things one fears, one becomes less fearful. Last night I went to the rehearsal of the Jerome Ukulele Orchestra, with whom I have been playing cello for a year. I play the ukulele better than most of them, but they have people who can do leads on the uke and have enjoyed the opportunity to develop their chops, and they love my playing the cello. So I just hide behind my cello as if I couldn't sing a note and focus on the cello. Actually, it is difficult to sing and play an instrument with no frets because you have to find correct pitch with both simultaneously. Last night, Christy, the principal female vocalist wasn't there. And it's permanent-she's gone. And we have a three-hour gig in Jerome on Saturday night. Tommy, who leads the group, can do anything, but sometimes he has other gigs and Christy has lead the group when he was gone. There are two male vocalists who are also are strong leaders-they can keep things going when Tommy's not there but the only other female vocalist is seldom there. We kept coming along tunes that really need a female lead, so I popped up to the mic and said, "I'll sing it", and I did. I sang a lot. I sang things I have never sung before. I sang things I obviously struggled with but did it anyway. When we were almost done they thanked me and I said, "well, you know-that's how I am. I'm fearless." I didn't know if they knew that or not, but one of them said, "Yes-I know! It's one of the things I love most about you, Laura!" And here I thought I was successfully hiding behind my cello...

I ran across my old flip phone the other day - the one I used before I had an iPhone 4 and then the iPhone 5. It sure brought up a lot of stuff. My dad had one just like it...that's what he would do. If I got a new phone, he'd get one just like mine so that I could teach him how to use it and we'd be "on the same page". I charged it up so that i could erase the contact info and whatnot so as to donate it somewhere. The calendar and alarms really got to me. This was from about five years ago. I had alarms to call and wake my dad up and alarms to call him and remind him to go to the gym and wherever else he was supposed to do. I was so used to burning the candle at both ends that I would fall asleep anywhere, and was always taking naps. In the car, in some parking lot, whatever, by setting a timer for ten minutes and conking out. So, I had a timer set for 10:00 every night to remind me to get ready and go to bed, or I would be even more sleep deprived than I was. I once fell asleep playing the ukulele onstage with my band at a contra dance. It didn't last long, and no one noticed. I kept playing... I had totally forgotten all that. I was thinking that five years ago he was pretty much ok and he just wasn't ok - he was relying on me heavily all along, and I was so convince that if I just worked hard enough at it and did the right things, he would be ok. And live forever? People kept telling me I was in denial about his real condition, but I was determined to do everything humanly possible to keep him at home, which was his desire. I sit here in his house and I just can't believe that he's never coming back. It's been 5-1/2 months and I still can't get my mind around it. I think I am really not ready to be going through his things and making these changes. I am doing it anyway, because the alternative would have been to do very little until 1-1/2 years after his death and that would have really been too long. But it's becoming very clear to me that I'm having such a hard time because I'm not ready or even close to it. And that was before the car accident, which made it even worse. I'm not ready...

Your sister's remark - just made me roll my eyes. Most people find it all too easy to say no when it comes to doing something difficult. It takes someone courageous whose heart is in the right place to do the things that most people won't do. But that's you, Kay. The world needs more people like you!

It's great that you are doing all that; it's totally the right thing to do, and it's inspiring to hear about. You're the best!

You may be right...I think that varies from state to state. I have only done real estate transactions in AZ and the realtor does all the work and the closing is done at a title company, which does all the final paperwork and filing of it. Nevertheless, I once attended a closing in PA with my sister, and it was held at an attorney's office-they were doing the final paperwork and the filing of it. This is in Mississippi? Anyway, lawyers know the law and you may be doing it perfectly for where you are!