A death begets a thousand smaller ones

Say a prayer for my mom today. She's trading in my dad's car (Camry) for a new one for her (Toyota Yaris) this evening. It's another one of a thousand little deaths that we've still got to cope with in the aftermath of my dad's fatal heart attack last November.

My dad's car was a big symbol of who he was. It was HIS car. HIS place. Part of HIS little empire. I always associated it with HIM - every time I see the same car driving around, I strain my eyes, peering through the windshield to see who's driving it. Anyone other than him behind the wheel just looks weird.

Up until today it still was full of all his stuff - his sunglasses, his thermos, his coffee cup, his gum, his snacks, his electronic gadgets, his back support cushion. We barely touched it since he died. It was preserved as if he'd just been in there yesterday. Now my Mom has to go into that inner sanctum, that sacred personal space, and clean it all out. I'm sure it will be heart wrenching. She was talking about it a few weeks ago and could barely talk about it without breaking down.

I now know there's not just one death that survivors have to deal with after we lose a loved one. I'm starting to see that the rest of my life will be a journey of surviving a thousand little deaths from now until our own passing. Or at least until our lives have journeyed on to fill in the gaps with new things that my dad was not a part of. Even a year later, I'm still discovering all the ways his existence affected our lives. From what we did for fun, how we celebrated holidays and major milestones, to what we ate to what we talked about and what we could do, and that there just still so many holes in my life.

I think the initial shock of losing someone protects you from all the heartbreaking details that come down the road. And that's good. But now that my "heart anaesthetic" is wearing off, I can see that my dad's death will be affecting me and my family for a long time. Certainly a lot longer than a year - which was the milestone that I was looking towards to "just survive". I was looking forward to completion of this year, as a means to feeling more assured that things were now looking up, but now I see that this pain will likely continue on for some time to come. I'm tired of feeling this pain.

All of this didnt hit me all at once, and its still so hard. It's such a long, difficult road. I don’t know how my mom has it in her to be so strong. I don’t know if I could cope with widowhood with as much strength and dignity that she's showing.

I love you mom, and I'm so proud of you. You've been a shining example on how to retain my dignity as a woman in spite of heartbreaking loss, and to go on bravely, be your own person, and still find the beauty of life and show me that there are a million reasons to want to keep living.

And God, please dont take my Mom from me any time soon. I dont know how I'd cope with that amount of heartbreak all at once.