Self-Care: “Anything worth doing, is worth doing poorly” – if it's worth doing, even doing the minimal level of it is enough, if that is all you are capable of in the moment.

I don’t remember where I heard that quote, but it has been something that has kept me going for the past nearly two years. When the emotional exhaustion sets in and I can’t even bring myself to do the things that bring me joy, that is what I remember. It usually sparks at least enough motivation for me to go outside (if the weather is warm) and wander through my garden… and that is usually enough to break the funk just enough for me to function again.

Losing my dad

It has taken 2 years of sitting with this idea for me to be able to be calm enough in its presence to write anything (and nearly an additional year for me to be willing to share it in any manner). It is a process, and there are weird things that strike me at really weird times. Sometimes they are funny things and while I’m laughing I realize that he would have found it just as funny as I did, sometimes it is very specific to him like when I was looking for somewhere to watch the 2025 Joint Address (SOTUS) and stumbled onto a live broadcast by David Packmen where I discovered that there was going to be a crossover between 2 of my dad’s regularly watched YouTube channels (David Packmen and The Atheist Experience) this summer. Other times there are realizations about my relationship with him, like he was always my biggest cheerleader, but mainly about my really weird ideas and hobbies… but then my sister pointed out that he supported those ideas and hobbies because he directly benefited from them (… he always was trying to find ways to make things work for him).

I don’t know that these realizations, epiphanies, reminiscings, and moments of emotional dredging will ever stop in regard to his passing. But they aren’t as frequent as they were in the first year, they aren’t as debilitating, and I find that I can commiserate with my mother and sister now without feeling like I’m going to burst into tears. Though reading any portion of this aloud results in a catch in my voice and silent tears trailing down my face.

Take Pictures

After compiling every picture I could of my father to make a memorial website and facilitate the creation of a slideshow for the Celebration of life, it became painfully evident that I posed for very few pictures with my father in my adult life. I don’t even have a picture of us together at my wedding.

Be In Pictures

You never know who will be looking for pictures of you for your memorial or looking for memories of you to ponder after your passing. You may even want to look back on memories captured and reminisce, so do yourself a favor and be in the pictures!

Listen to the stories (more on this, another time)

Don’t sabotage yourself

The part of my grief that I’m struggling with the most is the duality of my mind. On the one hand I know we did the right thing with hospice and letting him pass as peacefully as possible. But on the other hand I question that decision when I think back to some of the ways his body reacted to the physical stress it was under. There were times, that in spite of the EEG saying that his brain function was next to nothing, his eyes would open… and instead of being that upward gaze that followed his eyelids open and then closed, his eyes were looking straight ahead as he was grimacing in what looked like pain and anger. Because he was in hospice, they were not giving him any fluids so I can only imagine how dry his mouth and throat were. It makes me wonder, if he wasn’t so dehydrated at that point, would he have spoken or would it have just been the same soundless angry and painful scream?

The only comfort I have from this is knowing that if there was a sliver of consciousness left in there, he knew how badly damaged the heart attack and delayed CPR had left him and knew that his existence in that state would have been miserable and without dignity. That is NOT a life he would have thought was worth living.

So while some part of my mind screams that our decision ultimately lead to the end of his life, I know that more was done to preserve his life than he would have wanted, and in the end we were at least able to preserve most of his dignity.