The Reality of Death

This is my worst nightmare.

The darkness is closing in. All my anxieties, all my fears, they have come true. This feels like a bad dream. It doesn't feel real. I don't want it to be real. But it is, and I can't do anything about it. Death is so painful! It doesn't matter who it is. It can be a friend, a family member, or a pet.                                                              

 I had to just sit helplessly and watch my loved one die. I watched in horror as he took his last breaths. I had to watch him lie helplessly, unable to move. Unable to eat or drink. Unable to do anything. As the early hours of morning came I began to give into sleep as I sat up watching him. Until his chest stopped moving gently up and down from his little breaths. I saw him fading away and I was no longer tired. After a whole day of working and then a night of staying awake, but I was no longer tired.

This is my worst nightmare. It has come true.

I feared it for a while. Actually over a year. Or maybe his whole life. Somewhere in my subconscious or deep in the back of my mind I knew this was coming. But I denied it. Every time he didn't feel good. Or he couldn't eat. The thought came to mind. The worry and anxiety shined through. I tried to deny it every time. It was that saddening thought that creeps into our minds when someone is sick and we know what's coming. I tried to ignore the signs. I tried to blame it on something else. Something that wasn't life treating. I made excuses for something that was quite plain. I don't think anything can prepare us for a loved one dying. How do you prepare for something like that? You can't, even if you try. Especially if it happens so suddenly like my case there was no preparing. And when you have to care for them, and do almost everything for them because they are too weak to do it. It makes it even harder.

Death is a darkness for those who have to endure it.

What could be harder than sitting up all night with a loved one, hoping and praying that they make it until morning? The answer is going home. Walking through the door and all of those overwhelming emotions hit you like a ton of bricks. Happy memories now hurt so much. They are simply too painful to even think about. Everything in the house had a memory. Every wall, every corner, every room. Staying in the house was just too overwhelming. But where could I go? I couldn't leave. I had to stay, surrounded by all these heartbreaking memories. I went to bed and woke up in a daze. Hoping it was all a bad dream. I hoped I would wake up and he would be back, and everything would be the way it was before, but it wasn't. Tears were endless at first. Days went by and before long I had been a week without him. I look back and I can't really remember what I did during that week. It's all a blur. For many weeks after it still felt unreal. It was like a war in my mind. I knew he was gone but at same time I couldn't wrap my mind around that conclusion. I kept thinking he just was somewhere else but I knew where he was. It was the strangest feeling.

I thought coming home without him was the hardest part. I was wrong. Picking up his stuff was so difficult. I vacuumed up the remaining remnants of him. Of what my life use to be. What it use to look like. It felt so finale. And it was so painful. I don't believe in the theory that, time heals. It really doesn't feel like it does. It feels like it just prolongs the hurt and the pain. The only thing that comes out of the time after the death of a loved one is it becomes bearable. Life goes on. And most of us go back to being able to function in a normal day. People don't always understand especially if they have never gone through it. They expect you to go back to work. Not cry all the time and move on. It is not that simple. In the silence of the night when your all alone and the show is over for the day, the pain comes back. It always comes back. The time doesn't heal the wound. It's like a Band-Aid, it covers up the pain and helps you to return to some form of a normal life. It never truly goes away though. I have found that memories start to become happy again. They don't always bring tears. Sometimes they do though. When I reflect back on the possible pain he went through. And all the days that he didn't feel good and couldn't eat. Those memories will make me cry. They make my heart ache for my loved one.

Moving on is a difficult choice. Some people choose not to ever move on. Some turn to unhealthy ways of coping. It's not always right, and it's probably not how they should handle it. Sometimes it is even life threatening, but dealing with loss is so hard and some just can't shake it. Who really knows how to handle it? I tried to talk when I was having a bad day. Or I tried to write it down if I couldn't talk. It does help instead of just keeping the feelings inside.

Opening my heart to love someone else is a decision I don't take lightly. It's bittersweet for me. Some days when I am struggling I don't want someone new. I didn't see this happening. It came out of nowhere and I don't want someone else. I want him back. I have to pull myself together and know that he wouldn't want me to just stay stuck. I think had he been able to tell me he would have. He would have wanted me to move on.

So I have made the decision. I have chosen someone new. I must try not to compare new to old. I cannot hold him to standards that high. That is unreasonable. He will never be what I had before. Because what I had before was unlike any other he was irreplaceable. He was one of a kind, and so very special. He will always have a place in my heart. And I will never forget how precious he was. I have to trust that it will be alright. That my decision is the right one.

R.I.P - 5/23/2021