Tomorrow we’re burying my Aunt Betty. She passed away Saturday evening. I chose not to see her again after they pulled the plug because I didn’t want to see her again like that. There is a very big part of me that feels very guilty about that and a small part of me that keeps reassuring me that my decision was not wrong. I didn’t want to keep going back to the hospital to see her laying in what amounts to a coma. I did not want to see my Aunt Betty without her ready smile. Without her hair and makeup and nails done. Without hearing her voice and her hearty laughter. I did not want to see what was, in my mind, no longer my Aunt Betty.
Maybe that makes me a horrible person, but that’s what it took for me to not completely lose my shit every day. I cried a lot. I was angry a lot. And now that she’s gone, there is no relief in the knowledge that she’s at rest. Just bitter numbness.
I’m trying to get through this and figure out how to reconcile my life continuing on in it’s break neck speed. It just seems so wrong that time refuses to stand still, if even for a minute, so I can wallow in my grief.
It’s been one holiday party after another – work, family school – with more to come and I just can’t seem to catch my breath. To take time to feel what I’m feeling. To deal with my loss. And that only seems to numb and dull my feelings more. Not being able to deal with any of it because there seems to be no time.
Maybe once this month is done and gone I will finally be able to have a quiet moment to myself to just feel. But until then, I cope.
[New Post] Bitter. http://littledramapants.com/?p=4149
*love*
I think that it really sounds like you did what was right for *you*. Hugs to you, and don’t doubt yourself. Much love.
I made the same decision when my father died. I never felt guilty about it, either. What was in that coffin was not my father, just his shell. And that image was not one that I wanted to remember. So don’t feel guilty. Remember your aunt as she was in life instead of in death. And grieving will find it’s own time…
Honey, don’t feel guilty. I strongly doubt that your Aunt would want you to feel bad, in fact it’s quite a possiblity that she would’ve agreed with you. Regardless of if you went to visit her after the plug was pulled or not, it does not change the love and respect and memories.
Take a day off work – you can come hide in my apartment and wallow in my bed while I work in my studio if you want – if you don’t want to go to a party, don’t go baby.
I love you to pieces. Mwah!
I don’t think you were wrong at all. I’ve already told both my parents that they will *not* have open caskets. Like you, that’s not the last memory I want to have. I hate viewings, btw.
If you are a terrible person, so am I – I didn’t go with the rest of my family to see my brother after they’d removed the equipment. My brother was gone, and I didn’t want to torture myself by looking at what I knew was an empty shell where my brother used to be.
I am so sorry for your loss, Grace, and you and your family will be in my thoughts. *hugs*
I think it’s fine that you didn’t want to see her and prefer to remember her animated and well. Remember, we are not our bodies. When my Grandma died, I let go of her hand and walked into the Relatives’ Room and had a shaky cup of tea. I didn’t want to be there anymore because it wasn’t the person I had known and loved. That was fifteen years ago and I still don’t regret this decision. The rest of my family waited while a priest blessed her body and they prayed with her and that’s fine for them, but not for me. For me, it was already a shock to see her like that. I didn’t need to wait for her pallour to change. Now, part of me knows that it probably helps with the healing process to have some time really letting it sink in, that we are somewhat cushioned from death these days, but that was what felt right to me. When you get tired of feeling numb and you have the space to access your feelings, the grief will come, don’t worry. There is always time to grieve. And people will understand that.
As inadequate as it is to say, I’m very sorry.
I’ve observed what you’re describing when my wife lost her father last fall. The Thanksgiving then Christmas seasons were a blur where her family just had to push through until things slowed down enough for them to begin dealing with what happened. It’s taken until now for them to begin to get that point.
So try not to beat yourself up too badly (although it’s nearly impossible not to) and you will have a time when you’ll be able to work through and come to terms with your feelings.
**Hugs**
I’m so sorry for your loss!
I’m so sorry! You’re not a coward, you did what you needed to do. My grandmother was asleep when I left the hospital to drive back to Alabama. I knew I’d never see her alive again, but I couldn’t handle saying goodbye. I just couldn’t do it. I’m sure she forgives me. *hugs*