Dec. 5th, 2020

kribban: (Default)
I've started the last couple of years, probably due to growing older, but every New Year's Eve I think: "Who is alive, celebrating right now, who won't see next New Year's Eve? Will it be me? Will it be someone I know?"

This year, we didn't have to wait long. A few days into 2020, an Iranian missile shot down a commercial plane carrying several Swedish citizens, including a family with two small children. But that soon faded into the background, of course, with Covid-19. 2020 will also be the year I lost my father, and I was thinking today how I feel about it, how I will feel about 2020 in the future.

I feel fine. It feels like he's been dead for years.

Partly, because he's been so sick for a long time, and we were just waiting for it to happen. And I spent ten days with mom following his death and was there for her at the funeral home and in her immediate grief. Not that she needed my help that much. After the funeral agency had taken dad away, she did laundry. And I thought to myself: how can she do laundry?

We went for a walk and she chatted politely with some people we met, and I thought to myself: how can she chat with strangers when her husband has died? Shouldn't she be on the floor weeping?

In October last year, I saw dad alive for the last time, and as I hugged him goodbye and closed the door, I thought to myself that this might be the last time I see him, and I didn't feel anything at all. But that's alright, perhaps. Maybe the TV and movie-version of death is too dramatic. Sometimes it's the last time you see someone, and that's no big deal at all.

I was offered to follow my brother to say goodbye to dad around May, when he was still alive, and I didn't want to do it, because I wanted to enjoy the weekend. I don't feel guilty about this.

I also booked my train tickets in June so I could attend a work thing, which meant I only arrived on the morning after dad had passed.

If I had arrived a day earlier as I first planned, I would have heard his labored breathing and seen him emaciated and unresponsive and he wouldn't have noticed my presence at all.

The one thing that did affect me, that I'm most proud of myself in 2020, was seeing him when he had passed, washed and looking peaceful. I'm so damn proud of myself for doing it, and I couldn't have done it without having watched Caitlyn Doughty's YouTube channel for six months.

But overall, death has been underwhelming. I don't feel affected at all. Maybe it will be different the day my mother passes away.

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kribban: (Default)
Some kind of saviour

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