I’m home.
(My dad’s favorite view from his chair.)
Walking through my parents’ condo yesterday, for presumably the last time, was far more devastating emotionally than I was prepared for. It left me shaken and sobbing.
I’ve come home to my husband, to quiet, to the realization that I’m an orphan. To the realization that my birthday, which is in 13 days, will my first without both my parents. To the realization that I will never hear my dad’s voice again.
I’ve come home to a landscape in which every tree that had autumn-colored leaves when I left is now bare. I’ve come home to a dog who is frailer than she was when I left, which worries me.
I’m not comfortable writing an entire ‘poor me’ post. So, I’ll make this short. I almost didn’t post today and the regularity of my posting might be a bit erratic this week. I’m taking time for the enormity of this to sink in. I need to allow myself the time and space in which to grieve.
My Little Z and my furry nephew Max helped to distract me by the sheer amount of love and joy emanating from their beings. For that I am forever grateful.
Yesterday, Z hid behind a wall in the kitchen and, as I passed by, wheeled his walker out and ‘scared’ me. He said “ROAR!” He was a dinosaur. (Pardon the blurry iPhone photo, but that kid was in constant motion.) He made me smile and laugh. I love that boy.
I love my Maxie, too. When he sensed I was leaving, he followed me everywhere, even into the bathroom when I took a shower.
And I love my sister and brother-in-law and my other nephews. My sister and I have shared something that is profound and deeply sad. I don’t know if I could have done it without her. It was hard leaving them yesterday but I was ready to come home.
Don is also an orphan. He understands.
Anyway, I’m rambling a bit here. Thank you all for your support and compassion.
I’m hanging in there.
Happy Sunday.
Good Morning Claudia, I just read your sisters post and now yours. You are both missing each other already. I hope someday you live closer to each other. Take your time to heal. Doris
We hope so, too. But as long as Don continues acting, we have to remain near NYC. And Meredith’s husband has his practice in Florida. It’s very hard being apart.
Thank you for sharing how you feel. It’s not a pity post, it’s reality. And you have, in the midst of your grief, captured your thoughts so beautifully.
Thank you, Chy. That means a great deal to me.
The realization of being an orphan hit me hard. too. So, I understand completely. Your good memories will get you through and start the healing process. I know also your worries about Scout. Take your time to take care of yourself now. That is so important for you and Don. Relax, sleep in and indulge in your favorite hot beverages. And of course, enjoy that lovely dog who is most likely ecstatic to have you home. Sending a hug, Deb
She is quietly happy, Deb. She doesn’t have the energy she once had, but she ate better this morning and she’s hanging around me, so that shows she is happy.
I’m glad to read that you made it safely home.
Growing up I was rather afraid of my stern father. He mellowed with the advent of grandchildren and when my mother died, we spoke every day and I began to have an understanding and appreciation for who my dad was. Almost four years later I still find myself about to pick up the phone to chat. It’s hard.
Circumstance has dictated that I have to be strong and resourceful for others. We all have our limits. Claudia, if there’s one thing I learned through this whole grieving process, is that it’s okay to cry now and then.
Wishing some rest and quiet time for both you and Meredith this Sunday morning.
Oh, I’m a crier, Barbara, and I’m going to let myself cry as much as I need to.
My father was a very, very difficult man. We had some very hard times with him. But we also knew we were loved completely by Dad and we loved him in return. He was a good man who loved his family.
I wonder if you know how your heartfelt words help others in similar situations.
Thank you for sharing with us during this difficult time.
Glad you are home safe and sound.
Thank you so much, Sue.
Thinking about you during this difficult time.
Thank you, Mary.
Take solace in your home, Don, and Scout, Claudia. In time, the grief mellows and becomes a part of you. My grief for my wonderful husband is still molding itself to me, and only stings once in a while. The missing never stops, but at least the weeping doesn’t occur as often. A great big hug from the West Coast.
Thank you, Wendy.
Thinking of you. Glad you are home with Don and Scout but am also so glad you had that special time with Mere.
Take care and grieve.
Judy
I will, Judy. Thank you.
I’m so glad to know you are home again dear Claudia.
These past days have been hard – but you were there where you needed to be.
Being an orphan is always hard – but having our parents for the long time we did made us fortunate children. I’m glad you have happy memories. Bringing special, much-loved things to your cottage will keep your dear ones close to you always.
Hoping to hear Scout does better now her ‘mommy’ is home. Know Don is happy to have you back!
Thinking of you often.
Mary x
She ate well this morning, Mary. She has a hard time getting around. But I hope having both of us here will lift her spirits. Thank you.
Take all the time you need. Your parents will always be with you, and you’ll continue to grow in knowledge and understanding of them. Last night we enjoyed a long, lovely dinner with three other couples, all of us “orphans” in our sixties and seventies. It interested me to see how much of the intertwined conversation centered on our parents.
It doesn’t matter how old you are, you always need your parents, don’t you?
Telling your friends, even virtual ones, how you feel is not a pity post, so no worries there. It’s just sharing a very profound event in your life and one that will affect you for a very long time, even forever. I imagine just being there in your dad’s home, seeing so much that was familiar to you, etc was comforting in its way. Now that you’re home, I hope being back to your “regular everyday life” will provide some distraction – opportunity to breathe deeply and think. Or not think – sometimes just a long period busy with anything else is a lot of help. Hang in there, my friend… ⛅️
I’m cleaning a bit this morning. Helps to do something.
I’m glad you are safely home. Its going to be hard but you have to rest and just let the love of Don and Scout flow over you and help you heal. Children and pets are amazing in their ability to bring joy to our life no matter the circumstance. Prayers continue for you and Meredith.
hugs my dear friend, lots of hugs.
Linda
Thank you, dear Linda.
I think the realization that we are “orphans” even as adults is profoundly moving. Though our parents age and need our help, we still see them as our “guardians”. With their death the feeling of being alone hits like a brick. I know this is a worn out statement — but time does heal those wounds.
Bask in all the comfort and love Don and Scout pour out upon you and rest. These days will pass and the memories of all the good times will become your precious present.
Take care, my prayers go with you.
That’s all I could think of yesterday, Ann. I felt totally alone. It’s a terrible feeling.
Dear Claudia,you are sharing a more authentic view of life as ever…..and that is what needs to be embraced by any of us. ‘Hanging in there’ can be quite a feat here (for me anyway) and your sharing your way offers that embrace outwards into the world.
Thank-you and may you receive every blessing.
Thank you, Grace. Your kind words help a great deal.
Still thinking of you and yours with admiration and love.
Thank you, Jane.
I’m glad you made it safely home! This is not an easy time for you…take all the time you need. I’ll bet Scout was smiling ear to ear when she saw you…and Don too, for that matter. Blessings! ;)
She was too sleepy last night to smile – it was around 10:00 when I got home. But today, she seems to be happy.
That moment when it suddenly strikes you…I am an orphan…I am alone in this world now….is just the worst Claudia…I remember when that reality hit me smack on top the head…It’s not that you have no one left who loves you…it’s just the fact that you don’t have a Mom or Dad to share your ups and downs with…I am also sorry to hear that Miss Scout is feeling down again…I too am hoping that she may do a bit better now that you are home…I bet there is a little boy and a sweet fur kid in Florida who are missing their Auntie Claudia terribly much today…Hugs and remember…we are here to listen to whatever you need to talk about…just as you listen to use…Take care and take some time to breath…Nancy
Thank you for understanding, Nancy, about being an orphan. It’s a terribly lonely feeling. Mom gone last year, Dad gone this year. It’s too much for me right now, but I know those feelings will eventually change.
Talk all you want Claudia, it is fine with me and I understand. Friends listen to your heart and are always ready to reach out when needed. When my Daddy died I never fully mourned because I was too busy caring for my Mom’s needs and helping her with her grief. When my Mom died a few years later it really hit me and I felt that I was suddenly suffering the loss of both my parents. You must take especially good care of yourself right now. Toss aside that list of “must do” and focus on your own healing. We will be here for you, I promise.
Big Texas Hugs,
Susan and Bentley
I think it was the same for me. I didn’t fully mourn Mom because I was so concerned about Dad. Plus, I couldn’t go through her things since they were still with Dad, as they should have been. Now, it seems as if we’re mourning both our parents.
Take care! Regula
Thank you, Regula.
Claudia, what an ordeal you have been through these past several days … too much to process in such a short period of time. Home is the best place to be. The sun will come out again. I’m so sorry for all the losses.
Thank you, Dana.
Im so very sorry about your dad. Losing parents is such hard work. Hugs and rest to you
Thank you, Kathy.
Dear Claudia, the days have gone by and each morning as I would sit with my coffee I would check for your post to see how you were doing with this sorrow filled journey. I would read it and think today I should post a comment but the right words were never there. Most moving for me were the words that you wrote about your fathers last hours. That post came at exactly the right time to help me with the passing of one of our friends way too young after a horrendous battle with cancer. It was if I could feel you walking the walk with us. There is a strange comfort during grief when one feels that another human being truly understands. My wish for you dear Claudia that the intense gut wrenching emotions will fade and be replaced soon with peace and a smile from a memory. LIttle Zis truly evidence that the world should go one and continue to be filled with joy. Many hugs sent your way.
Thank you so much, Cindy. Your words help me, too.
I’m sorry for your heartache.
Thank you, LesleyAnn.
Claudia. Even us older kids sense that great loss of our parents to feel so alone, orphaned . We love our mates and siblings…but to never have our parents hugs us close or like you said to hear their voice is heart wrenching. Hugs to you dear Claudia. Bless you, xoxo,Susie
Thank you, Susie.
Claudia, may being home be balm to your soul. Don and Scout will be such comfort as you rest and continue in your healing. Everyone grieves differently . I know after my dad died and I realized I was now the matriarch of our family, it really hit me about my own mortality. I am an only child and still could use a sister in my life. So glad you have each other. Rest and bask in Don’s love for you.
Susan
My great-aunt, who lived to be almost 100, was usually upbeat; however, there were times when she would say in despair that she’d lost everybody in her life. She’d outlived friends, her husband, her siblings, etc. Of course, this made ME feel a bit ‘worthless’ since she still had me and my mom, and she’d had her brother til they were in their early 90s…so, I’d look at her and think, ‘but you were lucky!’ (i.e., she did indeed have living relatives at the time she died, and we looked after her; we were good to her; we were ‘there’ for her).
In comparison, I’m left…at this age…with scant (count ’em on one hand) distant cousins with whom I have little-to-no connection (simply don’t know each other; spread out all over the country) and it’s sometimes still unbelievable to me that I wound up this way because I certainly was once part of a bigger family, when I was a kid…and everybody was within driving distance. I have had people say to me that I could have made other choices for my life, so that I’m not so devoid of people, but this is something deeply personal. For instance, no one knows everything my husband and I went through to try to bring children into our life; the unfortunate thing there was that my physical health tanked.
Anyway, I am a total orphan but for my spouse. It is hard for other people to understand what it feels like to have no parents, no siblings, no children or grandchildren, no nieces or nephews, no aunts or uncles, But there are too many of us in that very position. I’ve done plenty of work with community services and there are a lot of elderly orphans; people who are shut-ins, who have no advocates as they become older and more dependent. I will likely end up as one of them…and this is not a self-pity ‘party;’ it’s merely inevitability. I had a neighbor who joined a church when she was widowed and childless, simply because she had no one in her life on whom she could depend. She needed a family. She needed somebody to check in on her from time to time, make sure she was alive. It was lovely to see how her new church family rallied around her. It’s a huge part of her life now, and a stronger faith has really bolstered her.
I think this is also when moving to a retirement community, if one can afford it, preferably graduated-care living, is better than being so alone. Friends of my parents, childless, moved to a mobile home park for the age group of 55+ and in their younger retirement-age years had a lot of fun with goings-on in that park…card games, potlucks, holiday celebrations in the club house, etc. LOTS of social activity, which filled some voids for them. When a person finds themselves people-less, hopefully a good group of friends has been gathered over many years; however, people’s lives change, they retire elsewhere, or they move closer to their own families, they drop off because of their own health/personal problems…and often that once-large group of friends dwindles. So, you’ve got to be open to new ways to make friends and hopefully you have the kind of personality for that…not easy if you’ve been a really private and quiet sort of person who’s shy and/or sort of a loner. You have to step out of your comfort/not-so-comfort zone and push onward. Make changes. Harder to do when older…but, change can be really good!
I’ve taken care of a few people in my lifetime (through illness, death and then having to deal with the after-effects of their lives, as in all their paperwork/legalities and material things/assets). It’s been overwhelming. And I just wonder who is going to do all that for us, my husband and me. We don’t really have any money either although we do have long-term care insurance but, you know, somebody’s got to be behind the scenes working with all that, organizing it. I know in some cases where a social worker has stepped in; often things get done through one’s doctor. Or I guess a court appoints a conservator; some kind of public advocate; I’ve been scared to even look into it and want to keep putting my head in the sand. One can only do so much preparation. This is the tough part of aging for a lot of people.
What’s also sad when you keep losing relatives…is having no one left to share the family stories with; no reminiscing; no one to tell your stories to; no one who was a witness to your childhood. You lose a certain ‘validation.’ I can’t even pass on a family tree; I’m the last of my line. And let’s not even mention a lifetime’s accumulation of keepsakes, mementoes and collectibles; personal writings, poems, journals, photos, etc.
So, I agree wholeheartedly with another commenter here, Claudia; I’d take that wonderful relationship you have with your sister and run with it. What a blessing that you have each other! Warms my heart. Think of all the times ahead, and holidays, that you all could share! These are those pivotal years when making the decisions for retirement draw near…finances, weather, etc. Sunny Florida beats shoveling snow in a New England winter. Don was from a coastal environment anyway, right? Seems like it could benefit you both. I’m sure I’ve read that Florida can be an affordable retirement destination.
And in the meantime, we all just need to live life to the fullest. It’s what your dad would want for you, Claudia. Back to your country life for now, with Don and Scout, loving all the beautiful things you’ve surrounded yourself with, like your cottage and the McCoy, the doll house and your books. Hunker down with the colder weather, wrap yourself in a quilt, cuddle on the sofa; heal. The sun refuses not to shine! I lost my young-adult brother the week before Thanksgiving; it’s hard to lose loved ones at any time but it’s somehow worse during the holidays at this time of year. (Christmas was when both of my parents were sickest, too; the one dying then in January, right after, and the other in February. I’ve threatened to leave town from Halloween to Valentine’s Day, just to escape my surroundings; somehow a Virgin Islands beach resort [in my dreams!] sounds ‘safe.’)
I’m thinking of you; you’ve had such a horrible couple of weeks. I don’t even know how you’re walking and talking, much less writing. I’m sure you must be physically exhausted along with the emotional turmoil. Grief will make its own path; just rest a while now; you’ll ultimately get to a calmer place inside yourself although it’s hard to imagine that right now. I’m so sorry you’re having a bad time. You’re missing your dad; it’s so ‘final,’ death. My heart goes out to you.
Claudia, that knowledge hits hard when we become orphans. I still feel like my history is no longer available to me. I have no grandparents, parents or even aunts and uncles remaining. Oh, how I wish I had asked more questions when questions were still an option. I am now the oldest one left in the family. When I was at the Dr. the last time he asked about getting a shingles vaccination…..when did I have chickenpox. I just looked at him. I could remember measles and mumps…. but there was no one to even call to ask if I ever had chickenpox. It is such a feeling of overwhelming loss. So many times I wish I could have just one more phone call with each of them. I hope people who still have their parents or grandparents think about sitting down with them and just talk while they have the opportunity over the holiday season.
They will never regret it.
I’m so glad you arrived home safely, and I know how happy Don and sweet Scout must be. Take the time you deserve now and sort through your memories. There is no right or wrong way ~ there is only your way. ?
Claudia, you’ll be ok. I felt so much like you are feeling now, when my sister passed away a few years ago….like an orphan. No one left but me. But wait – I have my husband, my children, cousins. You have a sister!!!! and a husband!!! nieces and nephews! We have to look around and remember we have family still; and remember the family that’s not with us anymore still loves us and watches over us. Hugs to you!
Thank you for sharing with us Claudia. Orphans. I have been one since I was 29 when my parents were gone. Poof! Gone in an instant with no real time to say goodbye. Gosh, I still needed my Mom to give me advice on raising my kids and on being a wife. I needed my Dad and his shoulder to lean on. But they were no more.many of us understand and we also understand that you need time for yourself right now, I’m SO glad you and Meredith have each other. And that you have Don and your precious Scout.
Blessings always,
Betsy
glad that you are safely home, claudia, and with your husband and scout. am sure they are relieved to see you (as you are them) and offer much comfort.
hope you can rest and in time get things into place, literally and figuratively (your new studio, what you’ve been through/are going through), in whatever ways feel better for you. hope you take plenty of time to just BE, too.
prayers continue for you and your entire family.
kathy