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Home again

Last night I flew in to SFO, and not long afterward I was home. It's a huge relief to be back, though I still have loads of things to do, some pertaining to my dad's death and some just pertaining to my own life that got put on hold for a week and a half, rescheduling appointments and such.

I'm bitterly regretting not taking my dad's cat, Edie. His friend Bruce offered to take her, and I figured she would be happy there, since she would be able to go outside (which she wouldn't be able to do where I live), but when we visited Bruce's house when we dropped off Edie my last night in Nebraska, his wife said something about the cats not being allowed on the furniture. That got me really worried, because that's how Edie socializes with people, by jumping up on chairs to get close to you and jumping up on the bed to cuddle in the morning. If the cats stay on the ground, then people won't interact with them as much, and Edie is used to a lot of interaction. She's an incredibly sweet, affectionate cat, but I didn't take her because I didn't think she would be happy being 100% indoors if there was another option. Now I wish I'd brought her home with me. I called Bruce today and told him that I would like to have him ship her to me, so I've since spent time (with Shannon's help) trying to figure out how to do that. It'll be expensive and a big bother (especially for Bruce, who may choose not to help), but I just fell in love with her in the week or so after my dad's death.

Speaking of which, I sort of lost it in the Phoenix airport on my way home, and started sobbing. Then I started crying on the phone with my brother this morning, too, when I told him that Dad had been thinking about him and wanting to see him. I've even been crying about Edie. I'm doing okay, but I seem to be falling apart more easily now that I'm away from all the constant go-going. I still can't believe that my dad is actually gone. Fairly literally can't believe it, in that on some level I still expect to talk to him next week for our usual phone call. I can't really grasp the concept of death in the concrete. In the abstract, sure, but when it's my dad, not so much. And I was standing right there when he died, but that doesn't seem to make it any more real.

Anyway, I'm glad to be home. I'm glad to be with Shannon and the cats (though I do miss Edie) and to have an entire wardrobe of clothes to choose from. I'm glad to walk down the street without having to say hello to anyone who passes by. I'm glad to have dozens of restaurants to choose from. I'm glad to no longer be facing monstrous mosquitoes in the evening. I'm even just glad to be able to recycle bottles and cans again. (That was driving me batty while I was away.)

Now if only Edie were here. I hope Bruce is willing to go to the bother of sending her to us.



( 5 comments — Leave a comment )
May. 23rd, 2007 11:17 pm (UTC)
Hey... I'm so sorry, I don't know how I missed this. I am very sorry to hear your Dad's gone. *big hugs* I know just what you mean about not being able to grasp the reality of the situation, too - I was just the same when my Dad died, and I still am quite often. I think it's one of those things that's just too huge, somehow. I think the falling apart when there's no specific task to concentrate on is quite to be expected, as well.

I wish I could say something actually helpful, here. But I do think that you deciding to take Edie is a really good idea, if you can arrange the transport. She sounds like an adorable cat, and I'm sure she will adapt to not being able to go out: the Xandermog adapted in no time from popping in and out of the house to just having a specific time in the evening when he goes outside, and when he had hurt his back leg, he again very quickly got used to not going out at all for several weeks.
May. 24th, 2007 02:11 am (UTC)
Unfortunately, I'm not sure it's going to work out for us to get my dad's cat. It would require a lot of effort on the part of my dad's friend Bruce, and I'm not sure I'm willing to ask that much of him. It makes me sad, though.
May. 24th, 2007 01:42 am (UTC)

I think not realizing the person is gone is quite normal. I still think about my mom every day, and it's weird to drive by the nursing home where she died, which I have to do (even passing her window) every time I leave Alameda to go to Berkeley or San Francisco. You get used to a person being around consistently, and when they're not, it's pretty hard to process.

Good luck with Edie.

May. 24th, 2007 02:13 am (UTC)
Thanks. I still have hopes of getting Edie, but I'm not sure it's going to work out. It would require a lot of effort on the part of my dad's friend Bruce.
May. 24th, 2007 05:36 am (UTC)
"You get used to a person being around consistently, and when they're not, it's pretty hard to process."
I think that's it right there. I sometimes have to remind myself about and still get really sad missing some of my closer relatives who've passed on. I feel for you missing Edie, too. I hope she gets lots of love, whether she stays with Bruce or comes to live with you. It might be prudent to tell him that if Edie seems unhappy with them or becomes a bother (if she naps on the furniture) you'd take her.

I'm glad you're home, and that even though the reality of your dad's death seems to be hitting you now, you're somewhere where you can be more comfortable to feel it with less pressure to do things (and be sociable!) for other people who are also grieving.

And it feels petty to tack it on at the end, but I cringw when I throw away things I could recycle too. Whenever we visit Sarah's parents, I'm like "the can goes where now?"
( 5 comments — Leave a comment )

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