A New Chapter...

I'm an orphan.

I knew it was coming so I've been trying it out for awhile. Orphan.

We don't refer to adults as orphans. We think of children without parents as orphans. But not adults. But eventually, if the normal patterns we think of hold out, we all become orphans. And when our parents die we are reminded that we are still, somewhere, somehow, children. So now I am an orphan.

Last night I informed Brent that I get to win every argument for the foreseeable future because I can just announce, "I'm an orphan" and he has to let me win based on the "don't be mean to orphans" rules. I told him I had run it by Dana last week and she agreed so that was that. He was a little concerned that Dana and I started plotting against him but has basically agreed that for now I win.

I also got the best night's sleep last night that I've gotten in two weeks. I knew the odds were that Mom would go in her sleep and even though she was sleeping most of the hours of the day it seemed to make sense in some part of my head that it would be the overnight sleeping time. So I think my subconscious was keeping me awake to listen for my phone. Last night there was no reason to listen anymore so I slept like a rock.

I know that I should feel like I'd rather lose the arguments and have rough sleep, but I don't.

Things would be different if she had been healthy and happy and loving her life. But she wasn't. She was tired. She was done. She was ready to go. She never completely rebounded from Dad's death. She got better, she dealt with it, she did her best, but she also missed him every single day of her life. I talked about our visit home this spring and how she spent most of her time talking about Dad. And how she said she could see him a lot of the time. Like out of the corner of her eye. Just waiting.

She was ready.  More than ready.

And she was still fighting the cancer. She was coming to the end of yet another cycle of chemo. And though it wasn't the devastating chemo treatment that she had the first time that almost killed her, it was still chemo. And it was never going to cure the cancer. Cancers. She ....

....

Sorry about that. My phone just rang and it was my brother. I need to sign some paperwork so Mom can be cremated. And just like that whatever thought was going in that last paragraph is stopped. Because I am signing paperwork to have Mom cremated. Because I'm an orphan.

And I have the easy job of it. I just have to sign this paperwork. Jeff and Susan have to sit at the funeral home and talk to the people about cremating Mom. We all were there when Dad died. It was actually the first time I saw everyone after he died. I flew in and went directly to the funeral home. John and Ann were still living in town so all of us were there. I wrote about being shocked at how bad they all looked and then realizing that I must look just as horrible. Not natural colors for skin. Grief is a bitch.

But this time I'm not flying in right away. We aren't holding the memorial service until October. And John and Ann are living in Florida now. It's all on Jeff and Susan to handle with the direct and leaving the indirect to me and John.

Which honestly has been how it's been for me since I left home at 18. I lived back in New Mexico for a few years after Brent got out of the Navy, but it was just a couple. So the majority of my life I have been an indirect participant in their lives. The Aunt that flies in shows up to dinner and flies back out. The could be an insult could be a compliment just depends on how you take it, "You are just like your Aunt Denise!" The oh we should let her know thought when Dad would get sick, or Mom would get sick or when one of the next generation did something. It's new to John and Ann, they just moved a couple of years ago, but for me it's normal.

But as I learned when Dad died, even if it's normal that I am not there day to day, the grief still comes. It still leaves a hole in you when your parent dies.

So expect more of the grief chronicles. Just now we have moved on to the next part. The actual mourning instead of the pre-mourning. For some reason I was thinking two weeks of pre-mourning would make this part easier. Like I would have had a head start. It didn't. Because even when you expect it, you can't prepare for it. Not really.

I'm an orphan.

It just doesn't seem real.