When The Sun Comes Up

The last year has been one of the hardest in my life. 

It felt like nothing was ever going to be right again... 

That I would never feel normal again...

That I would never feel happy again... 

My Dad getting sick snuck up on everyone. I didn't realize that him being sick would make my spirit sick.

Making dinner, doing laundry, putting my kids in bed, moving from the spot I was sitting in to do anything at all became excrutiating.

It was like swimming in a boiling sea of suffering: His, Mom's, mine, everyone else who shares his blood. 

Every day was like a horrible reset of a nightmare that I couldn't escape. 

And then he died, and it was like night fell and didn't stop falling.

In desperation, I asked Tammy, "What do we do? Give us all advice."

Tammy stopped and thought for a moment.

I will never, ever forget her words: 

"The first year is the hardest. It will hit you out of nowhere sometimes." 

I was dismayed, but so, so grateful for her thoughtful response. 

Because it has been absolutely true. 

I didn't realize that some of the hits-out-of-nowhere would be Dad visiting me. 

He used to come a lot. I think he knew that I needed him to float around and help me feel better. Mostly it made me cry.

Now I think he hovers around Mom, her own personal Guardian Angel. Well, maybe the Head Guardian Angel, because I'm pretty certain Mom has several hundred angels that asked to be around her, because Mom is delightful, and they just couldn't help themselves.

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Sometimes, many times, when Dad would sing with me and my sisters (and sometimes Jerm), Dad would have to stop singing. His feelings would bubble up, and he would shake his head, and exclaim, "Gosh!" It happened with the rest of us from time to time. I think he called it something like Getting Lost in the Song.

And maybe that is why I cry when I think of him. I got lost in his Song. 

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I kind of wonder sometimes if our bodies recognize that someone we love and are connected to has died, and the body itself mourns. 

Jeremy had a pet bird that mourned him when he went on his mission. By the time Eagle had gotten over Jeremy, Jeremy suddenly popped up after two years, and I'm sure the bird thought that it was some kind of miracle. 

That has nothing to do with my idea about our bodies independently mourning from our minds, but I think about that bird sometimes, and how much he loved Jeremy, and would clean his teeth if Jeremy would open his mouth...

Maybe I think of Eagle because at some point he came to terms with Jeremy being "dead." It's not that he forgot Jeremy. It's that he understood that Jeremy was gone, and no amount of sad was going to bring him back. 

And I guess that's what my body decided several weeks ago.

"Dara," my body said one day. "Your Dad died. I know you love him, and you miss him, and sometimes you curl up in bed at night when Jeremy is snoring and cry until your whole body shakes, but it's time for you to be interested in cooking again, and in doing small watercolors of fish. Laundry is still optional, but it always was, so we'll call it even on that. I think that you can even enjoy doing dishes by hand because it feels novel and fancy in a world of technology. I'm going to stop hurting so much. No amount of me being sad is going to bring him back. It's time for you to start living again. It's time for you to feel, and enjoy the sunshine on your skin. Maybe even let it burn so you can be itchy and feel alive. Now, go be nice to yourself, and me, and drink some hot chocolate."

It was like I was sitting in the dark, and the first rays of morning light started to glow above the mountains in front of me. It was so gradual, but I could feel every second, and knew that the light was coming. 

And then all of the sudden, it was light and warm. 

The sun came up. 

And I could fold laundry again.