I’m heading back home to Montreal tomorrow for a funeral, because MS finally took Sonya, Dad’s second wife. I’d call her my stepmother, because technically I guess she is, but since they were married when I was in my 20s, we were more “friendly” than “family.”
She was a good woman, though. Funny and sweet and loving, and good for my father. She’s the one who finally made him face his depression and start taking care of his health. She’s the one who kept his kids’ birthdays marked on the calendar so he’d remember to call. She didn’t deserve to go like this, a thin body made of stone, with no voice. She’d been in a wheelchair for years, but the decline came quickly once it started a few years ago. A stroke last year left her dazed, forgetful, and scared. I’m glad I got to visit with her last month, but I hate that my last memory of her will be that tiny body and those confused eyes.
My dad’s a wreck. I hope my presence helps a little, even though I don’t really know what to do. I’ll welcome guests at the viewing and thank them for coming, and I’ll do whatever Dad can’t find the strength for. I guess this is just something you learn as you go.
You know exactly what to do. When the time is right, show your dad what you wrote in the link you posted, but for now – be there like you said in your last paragraph.
I lost my husband 6 months ago, and I can tell you that your dad just needs you to watch him and see when he is struggling. Prop him up if you need to, laugh with him when he can, and be sure he gets help sleeping. No sleep is not good, and it will be hard for him for a while without some help.
Knowing how you felt about his wife will mean a lot to him. I am so sorry for your loss, Antigen.
Some of my friends with Mac antivirus software keep hitting that problem. As far as I can tell my site is clean and it’s a false alarm. I’m not trying to hit you with malicious stuff, honest.
So sorry to hear of your loss. You have my deepest sympathies.
As painful as someone wasting away is to witness, I just lost some one suddenly and unexpectedly, and it’s no better, I swear. One moment there, all is right with the world, then, gone! In a snap! It’s stunning to me, and happens more often, the older I get.
Sounds like you’ll do just fine, looking out for your poor Dad. You’re already on the right page, anyway.
You’ll be in my thoughts, in the days ahead, I wish you peace.
