6 month anniversary

I have been feeling a little guilty about the fact I have been neglecting my blog... mainly because I'm kind of busy with reading for study and other stuff, (so maybe I shouldn't feel all that guilty after all).

Today is a good day to revisit and resume my writing, as it is the six-month anniversary of my father's death. Six months. So hard to believe. At one level, the time has flown so quickly that it's hard to believe we are already half way through the "Year of Firsts", but at another level, life has been pretty full and busy, so it also feels like there is quite a bit of distance from the month I spent in Sydney when Dad died.

I mentioned in an earlier post that I would write about my time in Sydney, so I guess now is as good a time as any to do that. I went to Sydney after class on Wed 2nd April, and returned on the afternoon of Mon 7th. During my time there, I went with Mum to visit the solicitor in the city, as she had drafted a new will, and had also arranged documents to give me power of attorney and guardianship, so that I will be able to look after both her financial needs and general health and wellbeing if she is ever unable to do that for herself in the future.

On Friday 4th April (Dad's birthday), we had a ceremony to scatter Dad's ashes. There were 10 of us present in total (both pairs of next-door neighbours, my aunt and cousin from Newcastle and Dad's cousin and her husband, all of whom are beautiful people who have been very close to Mum and supportive of her since Dad died, so it was nice to share this special time with them).

I led the ceremony, using a liturgy I modified for the occasion from Dorothy McRae-McMahon's book of Rituals for Life, Love and Loss. I'll post the liturgy in another blog entry later. There were a couple of moments when I almost lost the plot and burst into tears, but on the whole I managed to keep things together, and those present said they appreciated the meaningfulness of the ritual.

After we scattered the ashes in the creek at the bottom of the back yard, we followed them with some orchids, Dad's favourite flower. Mum got enough for us each to have a spray of small white orchids, which we cast into the water of the creek.

After the ritual, we all shared a lunch of various finger food and cake, as a low-intensity way to spend some time together to 'come back to earth' after the emotion of the ritual.

I was exhausted, and was dozing at the table, so Mum instructed me to lie down, which I did on the lounge, and was out to it for an hour or two. I hadn't realised how physically exhausting the emotional intensity of the occasion would be. But overall, it was a good time, and an important next step for us all in the process of grieving Dad's loss, and remembering him.

My aunt and cousin from Newcastle stayed with us Thurs and Friday nights, and it was nice to spend some time catching up with them both during that time. I also had the chance to catch up with a friend and her family (and go to church with her) on Sunday, which was also an enjoyable occasion (even though our lunch was a little surreal, as we had to dine by candlelight, as the cafe, and the whole shopping centre surrounding it, were in the midst of a power failure. But despite this, the cafe proprietors were going out of their way to still provide service to customers... lucky their fryer and grill were powered by gas! :-)

So, overall, my trip to Sydney was brief, emotional, but satisfying, and I'm glad I went, and that Mum and I decided to hold the ceremony on Dad's birthday. Using that date helped to add some depth to the ritual, and to provide some extra salve for what would have been a pretty sad day for us anyway.

It was interesting, tonight, I was involved in a Bible study group at church, and we talked (among many things) about death, and how our society seems to be afraid of death. Many people just don't want to talk about the fact that someone close to them has died, and there is an avoidance thing happening.

I suppose that I'm one of the lucky ones, who had a good and healthy relationship with my Dad, and so whilst his death was painful, and it's sad and hard that he's not around any more, I really have no regrets. There were no things left unsaid, or unresolved between us, and I saw him only a month before he died, when I visited Sydney during the mid-semester break last September (and he was quite his normal self then). When he was dying, I also arrived in time to see him whilst he was still conscious and lucid, and aware that I was there. So, as far as such things go, I feel pretty fortunate, but that doesn't mean I don't cry (and in fact am crying now as I write this)... but it's all good and healthy, and a natural part of my ongoing grieving process.

I'm grateful that there are people in both my life, and in Mum's who are not afraid of tears, and understand that it's OK for us to still cry a bit when we think of Dad, because it's a natural and healthy part of our ongoing grief, which will be with us both for some time yet.