It's now been 88 days since Mom passed away. Some days I feel like she only left us yesterday, and other days I feel as if she's been gone for years. I'm at my Dad's as I write tonight, having come from Kenzie's doctor appointment in Rochester. For those who may be wondering, we're going to start her on Humira shots if the insurance company can be convinced...yea, there's a lot wrong w/ that statement. I know we'd be a lot worse off w/o insurance, but it's frustrating to think that insurance professionals can override medical professionals on matters of health and well-being.
Dad was more upset tonight than he's been since the initial shock of Mom's death and the numbness that set-in after the funeral. Maybe like the icicles that are melting and the snow that is receding, the numbness is wearing off and the feeling has come rushing back to his extremities. If you've ever suffered even slight frostbite, you understand the pain involved when the numbness wears off and feeling returns. I think the impetus tonight may have been when I asked him if Kenzie could use some of Mom's old sweatpants to sleep in. When I went in to his bedroom to check on what he'd found, he handed me the pants and then told me to take whatever clothes of Mom's I wanted. I asked him if he wanted me to go through everything so he wouldn't have see them whenever he opened the closet. He definitely wants to keep whatever I don't want. It seems to be a double-edged sword: having her things around reminds him of her, but having her things around also reminds him that she's gone. That pair of shoes that I've mentioned in other posts is still here by the computer just where she took them off 89 days ago.
During the last couple of months, Dad will tear-up when we talk about Mom, but tonight he was sobbing as he hugged me. He misses her so much. For the last 10 years they had literally been inseparable, not being apart from each other for more than a couple of hours at a time. I wonder which is better: to love others w/ limitations so when they're gone we don't miss them as much, or to love others w/o boundaries so a part of us goes w/ them when they're gone. I think I've spent a lot of my life trying not to care too much so I wouldn't have to suffer the pain of loss, but all that has left me w/ is loss. I guess I never believed it's "better to have loved and lost, then never to have loved at all." But I'm beginning to remember what Mom always believed, if we don't care then what's the point. We're just going through the motions, and that's not living. I know Dad would say that 62 years and 11 months of love is better than the pain he's feeling , but missing her so much makes that hard to see right now.
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