This is my first daily journal entry. Yesterday was Mom’s Church memorial service, and last night I did not sleep very well at all.
I’m writing this using my Android device, which is pretty cool. All i have to do is talk and it writes it down for me.
I’m very very tired even exhausted, I don’t think anybody could realistically prepare for the changes in advance, that occur when a parent passes away, especially if your parents are older.
Neither my father nor brother have accepted the reality that eventually they’re going to burn out. But fortunately they sleep well at night, so that made benefit them a lot more than someone who doesn’t sleep at night.
One bad thing about using the Android speech-to-text feature is that it doesn’t add any commas when I’m speaking it.
Guessing feeling exhausted is part of this whole experience. I feel like I’ve been running track for a week.
My heart feels like it’s been in override for the past two weeks, every since my mother fell.
I’ve also Feel bad to for taking time to rest, but with little sleep last night and bring used to most of my.time spent alone working in a quiet environment, being in the living room with my father and / or brother exhausts me.quickly. TV creates such a noisy busy space. All that pointless noise and babbling about nothing useful is draining.
How do you grieve, while trying.to care for someone else who is still in shock and fighting back grief?
I feel bad for my father, mom was his best friend, his caretaker, his companion for sixty-six years. On.an average day, we didn’t talk more than five minutes would be my best guess.
I never knew why, but we never seemed to connect while I was growing up. He worked night’s while I was home, so I would only see him for a few hours a day. During those hours I wasn’t allowed to bother him, and he spent that time reading books.
The only time that changed was when my mom.would go to her best friend house in Ontario on one of his days off. He’d then ask me what I had going on, and seemed to.want to hang out, but he never would actually suggest anything, and if he had, I felt ready bad knowing that he only wanted to spend any time with me, because his wife were gone.
I definitely resented not having access to him while growing yo, even though he were in the other room.
I remember a few times I attempted to talk with him, one on one. It was while I was going through done really difficult life challenges.
I was in bed of some Godly Man, Fatherly Advice, instead I received advice I couldn’t relate to at all. It was then that I realized, he really just didn’t get me, and I didn’t know much about him. He never had said a whole lot. He talked to his wife, people at church, prior he worked with, but other than hearing about his Okinawa stories and his wish to return to Japan, he never has had much else to say, at least to me.
Maybe it’s because he had a stern father who didn’t know how to do anything other than give directions and corrections.
Now that mom is gone, he’s suddenly more talkative. But I am at the beginning of a broken heart. My mom.is gone. I miss her sounds. She had a specific noise about her, that I always knew was her, even in the middle of the night when ask the lights were out.
On a positive note, I got my car to Honda this morning to get the passenger recalled air bags worked on.
I’m starting to fall asleep while writing this, even though it’s twelve noon. I may add more later today, our maybe tomorrow, or maybe whenever.