Today marks exactly one year since Doug died. I have been sort of dreading this day. I’ve actually been dreading this whole holiday weekend because I knew it would be difficult.
I’ve thought about that day many, many times over the past year. It is impossible to think about without tears welling up, no matter how hard I try to keep it together. I can’t think about that day without crying even just a little bit.
That moment when he died was the worst, most horrible pain I have ever known. It is still a very raw wound and when I poke at it it hurts.
I wonder a lot why it hurts so much. I’ve lost loved ones before and that was very painful too. But there was something about watching my stepdad die right in front of me that might have fucked me up just a little bit forever.
I remember my mom telling him to go, to just let go, and he listened to her. He did let go. his breathing became more shallow and then he took his last breath. And when he did It was like my heart just completely broke. I audibly said, “no” because I couldn’t deal with what was happening right in front of me. I couldn’t let go. I didn’t want to let go. And yet I had to let go because he was leaving us.
And then he was gone. It was just his body laying there on the bed. He looked so peaceful, like he could have been asleep. But he wasn’t there. It was the vessel that held him that was left behind, laying there on the bed.
It has taken me three days to write this post. I keep trying add something here at this point about how in that moment of great suffering I have also found great joy. But I can’t seem to write it without it sounding cliche. And I think, also, that the whole finding joy part deserves more than just something tacked onto the end of this post.
I think what I wanted to do today was just acknowledge this moment that happened exactly a year ago because it was significant.
Miss you, Doug.