Unprepared

Unprepared:

even now I find myself unprepared - after several years of a slow decline, multiple stays in the hospital for pneumonia, surviving stroke, cancer and many other ails; my father returns home today from his last hospital stay to hospice care. He'll be made as comfortable as possible, his family present, and pass away when his time arrives. As his caregiver Iv'e dealt with this through all practical purposes, tending through the progression of illness, adjusting, carrying on. I know exactly what's to come, a final breath won't catch me by surprise. Yet still, somehow, I'm unprepared for this.   

there is no easy way of letting go.

not that I thought there would be; I'm well versed in loss, from sitting at my mom's bedside in her final days with Alzheimer's (a disease of constant loss) to my own divorce that broke me to my core. Covid has wiped out my business and caused distance between myself and much that I love. With life loss continues and there's grace in this acceptance. 

and I do accept what's coming, as I have with every previous loss. 

but still I'm unprepared - this is a complete surrender of role, of my story as caregiver, son, and last of family that truly cares for my well being. From this point on it's all unknown. It's such mixed grief, as much for myself too, losing that last vistage of purpose, my sole role of offering care, and now moving further to uncertainty. I'm unprepared to lose this story. 

during this past hospital day my mind would often wander to routines established with my dad, the set times for medicine, our walks, each one growing a bit more difficult by the day, but still we persisted to maintain as much well being as the day would provide. Even yesterday, his breath and speech both with struggle, he talked more of what he would like to do than he did of loss. It's not that he's afraid of letting go, he's always been pragmatic and has faced his every condition with courage - he simply wishes to participate with life through every moment with as much ease, joy, and grace as will be allowed. He's willing to work for it, to make the effort of living well.

even as he's dying. 

so, this is where we are, it's where I am - lost and unprepared, afraid, uncertain. With my father's example ever present I stay honest with this, participating with the moment at hand, allowing life to handle the details of surrender. Letting go isn't an action taken, it's the natural sweep of life, from the known to unknown, a gateway into mystery. My role is to be present, available for grief to find me, to not hide from my fear and uncertainty, not project false pretense to what the moment holds. Allowing and letting go are common bonds, kin in their connection. Yes, I'm unprepared, even now, and will be for every moment on. There is no real preparation for something final, but life is still in motion, becoming something other through the very moment of this letting go. With this - I am already surrendered, allowing whatever's present to simply be.

there's nothing more to do.

~

Peace, Eric