August.

August is almost over, hard to believe.

I love, love, LOVE my new job. And I am damn good at it. I've gotten kudos from my boss on several things I've done, and everyone in my department is so supportive and welcoming. I feel like I've been let out of a cage. I'm planning on kicking butt at bonus time, and using that $$ to get myself something completely awesome and extravagant as a celebration of my success. I am greatly enjoying the interaction with people on the phone, and the privacy of my own office. Aside from the getting up part (hahah) I love coming to work.

I'm exhausted all the time, as besides my current duties, I am helping my replacement get up to speed in my past Hell job. There just aren't enough hours in the day for me to get all done. She's very overwhelmed, and I'm trying to reassure her it will get better. Even though psychoboss isn't her immediate boss, she's having to take direction from her and work with her, and it's frustrating her already. I am trying my best to tell her it will get better, but the secret part of me almost wants her to bail, as then I'll just be that more validated that I stuck it out for two frigging years. That's kind of petty though. Although I do very much feel that they took me for granted, and wonder if things will get to the level that they were when I left. I don't think they have a clue how much I actually did.

I've been feeling ok in general. It dawned on me that next month is my birthday, and my dad's birthday is 3 days before it. We generally tried to celebrate together, especially in the last few years when we were physically together. I am imagining that it will be tough. Very tough. I'm hoping for distraction.

I'm to the point now where I can see photos of him and it doesn't make me sad, it makes me smile, just a twinge of hurt inside that photographs and memories are what's left. I still think about him every day, multiple times, and sometimes I swear I can "feel" him. That makes me joyous, and tear up at the same time. I worry about losing the connection. I lost him once when I was a kid, once when he passed, and I'm holding on tight to whatever I have left.

Madison is growing like crazy. It makes me happy, as our good care of our furbaby has resulted in that, but part of me wishes she was a baby forever. I am so attached to that little girl. I am attached to ALL of my furbabies, but the timing of her has really bonded me to her on a different level. She is an amazingly funny little cat.

Ups and Downs

I don't have anything important to say, but I'm in the mood to write a little bit.

I'm still having good days and bad days. At least the nightmares have stopped.

Right after dad died I kept dreaming he needed help and I kept failing him. One dream involved robbers breaking into his home and throwing him to the floor violently, and I wasn't able to catch his head before it cracked on the ground and he bled on me. Awful stuff. So none of those for a couple of weeks is a very good thing.

I just feel really isolated, and frustrated, almost angry. Angry with everything. I'm not a patient person by nature, and this life I've led has been one massive exercise in patience. I believe that is my purpose here, to learn patience. Taking care of a man who was slowly deteriorating, and who frankly was a pain in the ass when he was well, was the crowning jewel. Well, that and stepparenthood.

I've been reading a lot. Reading and playing with the kitten are my biggest two escapes. I feel lonely a lot, even when there's tons of people around. I want to be alone and I don't want to be alone at the same time. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense.

There has been no crying lately. Just quiet. I don't feel like talking much. I just am trying to "be".

I have still been corresponding with my dad's cousin. He and my dad were close growing up, like brothers (Dad was also an only child). I kept him in the loop of his illness and we email frequently. I've never met the man, but he has the same kind of dry wit that my dad had, so it's like that little piece is left. He and I were the only family dad had at the end. (And yes, that was his own fault.) So we are the last two people standing, so to speak, and I think that's why we have connected like we have. There's over 40 years between us, yet we connect.

I did get a new job. New job, same corporation. I'm relieved beyond belief, as my immediate boss is totally psycho. Condescending, hard to communicate with, moody, always unhappy. It's like a black cloud over you. It got to the point where I dreaded meetings with her, and felt myself getting ready to blow up. I was ready to quit some time ago, but she got breast cancer. I didn't feel right leaving my department high and dry when she was sick, so I stuck it out. Then this other internal position opened, so it was obviously meant to be. It's more of a sales oriented job, so it will be very different from the behind the scenes marketing I've been doing for the past 2 years. There will be travel at times, which I am looking forward to. An office with a window, quarterly bonuses, all those little perks. I should be more excited than I am, but few things excite me right now.

I also did recommit to a 100% vegetarian diet. I have lost 6 pounds in under two weeks, and aside from the weight loss (which is so needed - ugh) I feel "right" again. I feel much more in balance. I always ate meat sparingly, but this feels better. This feels like me again.

I was loosely compiling essays etc into a book called "My Father's Daughter." Now stupid Gwenyth Paltrow (ok, she's not stupid, I'm just bitter haha) has come out with a book called that. I'd been calling the "project" that for so long that now I haven't the foggiest how to continue. I initially started it because I was a single 20-something caring for a parent with Dementia. I had to figure it all out on my own - none of my friends had gone through it as their parents weren't so much older then they. I wished I would have known someone to bounce ideas off of.

Which reminds me of another thing - I have volunteered to start a Lewy Body Dementia support group. I haven't finished the paperwork yet (been lazy and no energy) but it would be a once a month commitment. I think this may be a way that I can honor my father and help people out. God knows I went through just about the entire spectrum of dementia with him, everything from misdiagnosis to the VA Health System, to researching all the meds, Medicaid, Medicare etc. Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt. So maybe I can help someone not feel as isolated as I did throughout the process. I just need to suck it up and commit already.

I am in love.

Meet Maddie.

Under 2 lbs of fuzzy cuteness. Cuddling her, playing with her, even getting up and making her food in the middle of the night (she has to be fed every 4 hours right now, because she's so teeny) makes my heart feel like it's going to burst.

I am sure it's a different experience to those who have actually experienced it, but this is what I imagine having a baby is like. I imagine this as I will never have the opportunity to have a human baby, which bothers me more some days than other days... but the pure, heavy, unconditional love that I feel for this little girl when she crawls into the crook of my neck and falls asleep or even when she smears poop all over the floor in valiant attempts at the litter box just makes me feel AMAZING.

I L O V E her. HARD. So hard. Already. (It's been 2 days with her).

She is exactly what I needed right now. EXACTLY. Things have not been good for me. In me, whatever. She helps.

She helps me remember what it's like to feel happy, to feel like I have purpose, to feel love, why life is worth it, even the yucky parts, like saying goodbye to those that have passed. It's all worth it, because little miracles like Maddie are out there, just waiting for me to discover them.

Beautiful.

Last Saturday David and I went out to Rockaway Beach to give dad a burial at sea.

On the way down we saw 6 hawks (Dad always pointed out Hawks when we were in the car - sometimes after hours of silence - lol, thank you "vacation dad") and tons of other various birds.

The weather was perfect. The beach was uncrowded. The sunset was... well... you see. :) Beautiful.

Dave and I went out on the beach at low tide, dug a trench, scooped Dad in and watched him go out to sea with the waves when the tide came in. We collected various beach rocks for our (in progress) Zen Garden and we found one perfect, beautiful cockle shell.

We then went out to dinner, and I had Prime Rib - his favorite dish. I couldn't order it rare like he did though.

I slept like a rock. And have slept better since.

I haven't had a crying spell since Dad went out to sea. I understand, for the first time, why funerals or similar ceremonies exist - for closure.

Of course I still miss him. But at that beach, I felt it - it's all good. He's ok. For the first time in a long time.

One Week.

I've managed one week on this planet without my daddy.

This week has been a very strange one.

I don't really know what I expected. Because he was so sick for so long with that cruel disease, I thought I'd come to terms with his passing. But really, nothing can prepare you for the flood of feelings that losing a parent brings. Mostly, I just feel OLD.

I cried when I received the phone call. I cried because I was happy for him to be free, and I cried because it was sad that he was gone.

I had the thought that the past 5 years of my life, I worried about him every day. Advocated for him. Fought the VA for him. Paid his bills for him. Took him to neurology appointments, and eye doctor appointments, and the emergency room, and ten different stores looking for just the right kind of socks and underwear (which of course didn't exist, according to my dad). And now... there's a few more phone calls, a final goodbye at the Coast when his ashes are scattered to the sea, and then... that's it.

That's all.

And it's so weird to think about.

I still am thinking about him constantly. I have to force myself NOT to think about him constantly, because after about 4 minutes of that the tears come. Hummingbirds keep showing up. 15 minutes after he passed the first one showed up. One came up to the window when we were eating at a restaurant on Monday. We always birdwatched together. He bought me a bird guide. We took photos of bald eagles on the Mississippi river. And I really feel in my heart that my dad is still giving me birds to watch.

I took three days off work after he passed. Friday I allowed myself to really wallow, didn't get up and out of bed until Dave came home for lunch. Showered at 4pm. I allowed myself to stew, and worry, and feel sad, and stare at the ceiling, and sleep occasionally (sleep is still a problem).

Saturday I forced myself to get through the day. I got up by 9. I didn't cry until 11:57pm that night (I looked at the clock, disappointed I didn't quite make it a whole day without crying).

It comes in waves now. I'm exhausted - not quite as exhausted as I was during the "vigil", but close. My appetite is back (darnit! lol). Concentration is a problem. Not just with work, with simple things like following conversations, trying to read a book. I'm in a fog.

I am holding it together on the outside but inside I'm still screaming about my daddy.

I guess that's why they call it grieving.

Free at last.

My daddy fought hard, and was able to go Home today about 15 minutes ago.

If you'd like to honor him, I'd love for donations to go to the Lewy Body Dementia Association so we can find a cure for this awful disease. http://www.lbda.org/

Goodbye, dad. Love you.

Last Stand

Dad is making his last stand.

He's not expected to make it through the night.

I went to say goodbye today, and it was one of the hardest things I've ever done.

His skin was yellow, clammy, his lips and hair dry. Breathing very labored. If he wasn't sort of breathing I would have guessed he passed already.

I told him it was ok to go, that he was a good daddy, and I loved him, and I'd see him later. That sort of thing. I wanted to run out of the room screaming, and wanted to crawl into bed with him at the same time and hold him. Such a weird feeling. In the end I only stayed about 10 minutes. Got through it because of Dave.

I am ready for him to go. I alternate between feeling relief that his suffering is over, and wanting to wail at the top of my lungs.

I am glad that he's not afraid. That was my biggest fear. When he nearly died from colon cancer, my dad the "athiest" asked for a priest to pray with him and give him last rights. I'm not a priest, but I prayed for him today.

This is a very strange vigil. I just am waiting for the news. I feel so weird right now. Can't even describe.