Knowing

I went home to New York to watch my father die. I didn’t know how long or what it would be like. I had no idea what each day would be like or how I would fill it. I only knew there wasn’t much time.

Some have said that later on, I will have peace with the knowing of Bronte. If I take advantage of the knowing and share this time with Bronte in that light, than the knowing will be a gift. In theory and distance, I understand that. In the everyday comings and goings, it’s harder to grasp. I try. I take very deep breaths, tap my finger against my forehead, and try.

I’ve ordered a box with her name, and cried. I’ve thought of some places for her remains to be spread. i remind myself of the rainbow bridge and she’ll wait for me, and I’ve cried. I’ve tried to think of choosing what day of the week, and the actual cremation, and I’ve cried. But I do it. Because I know if I wait till then, I won’t be able to make any decisions with grace and dignity. I think there should be directors to help owners through this process, like those that help people with the final arrangements for their loved ones

I went with my mother when she made arrangements for my father. I’d never done that before. I had no idea what one did. What kind of decisions, choices, or paperwork had to be filled out. The procedures and policies.

I cry a lot as I read websites and try to prepare myself for what lies ahead. I do most of this when I’m alone, or very late at nite when Lana has fallen asleep. Bless her heart, but she is in denial. She wants to believe in the full three months and possibly more. I would love to, but another tumor grows already on Bronte’s palate. Knowing is a constant heartache.

Everyday, we checked my dad for the signs that would indicate that his body was shutting down. He was in hospice care and his DNR had been enacted, the feeding tube removed. We waited for the signs that were described to us by experienced persons. People who knew. But in the end, it would be my father who would make the choice. It would be my father who would decide on his terms when he was good and ready to leave this world. Our knowing only went so far. I stayed with my dad everyday for nearly a month.

Everyday now, I want to spend all my free time home. All the time I’m not a school, I want to be home. I don’t want to do work at home, I just want to lay around with Bronte. Or when she is up to it, I just want to walk the yard with her. We meander the entire fence simply to remind all that it is hers and because she can. Though I’m not productive at all, I remind myself they’ll be all the time in the world for that later. With all the other recent loss, or any loss in the last twelve years, Bronte has always been there, more than any one person could.

This weekend Bronte and I had our first talk. We had our first talk about what was ahead.  That way we both knew that we knew.

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