Isn’t it funny how things never stay the same? I wonder if I would want them to. Well, I guess I would, but only if I could pick when exactly I could freeze everything…
Anyway, back to it. The last couple of weeks have been hard. We lost PoPo after he fought for a week. They thought he would be gone within a couple days of being in hospice, but he fought the whole way. Even until the evening of his death, he was saying that he was going to be around for a lot longer. It was a mercy at the end for him, and for his loved ones. It’s hard to see someone struggle and be in pain.
We miss him so much.
I guess now is a popular time to die because we couldn’t bury him until a week later. The funeral homes and military cemetery were both so backed up that we had to wait in line. And this is where it really gets hard… we couldn’t attend his funeral.
I had to have surgery last Friday and two weeks prior I had to cease all medications to ensure that my system would be clean for what they needed to inject into me. The night of the viewing Will couldn’t wake me up. He didn’t want to leave me either for obvious reasons. The day after, Will’s work exploded and he had to fix it up. If he didn’t, he would have been fired. One does not simply ignore the Department of Agriculture.
Will’s family and I are not on good terms. Well, besides Will’s Dad and PoPo. PoPo is gone, and Will’s dad tore into us when we told him that we couldn’t go to the funeral. Will lovingly refers to his mother as “The Mexican Piranha” because she is tiny, but she will tear you to pieces if you don’t agree with her and do as she says when she says it. She flipped the fuck out. No matter what we said, it wasn’t good enough.
Will finally told her that PoPo would understand. And that is true. He was a family man to the core, and he worked hard his entire life. He was also a military man. He knew hard work and sacrifice. He wouldn’t have wanted Will to lose his job. We are just starting out and trying to save for a house. That would be disastrous.
I could have gone by myself. That much is true. I spent that day home, desperately trying to not throw up or pass out, cursing my doctor for denying me meds that were just starting to work. But if I put my mind to it, I could have gone. So much had been said by Will’s parents that I didn’t feel like venturing into the snake pit. I don’t want to hear the questions of “Where’s Will?”. If anyone would have even recognized me. Most of these people have never met me because Will hides me.
That’s a lie, I want to be hidden. Will has estranged sisters and Aunts and Uncles with criminal records… no. That is a clusterfuck. Not that I’m judging, I’ve disowned most of my extended family. I have an aunt that murdered my grandfather and an uncle that stole my inheritance only to have a change of heart and give it back, sans all the amount he paid in tax penalties on because he didn’t wait for the estate to be handled properly. If that isn’t dysfunction, please tell me what is.
Most importantly, I don’t grieve that way. I don’t need burial rituals. He’s gone. He’s at rest. He is waiting for us. He’s not in a box in the ground. It’s too late for prayers, and he didn’t need them anyway. I’ve never met someone so loved by so many people. The manager at Sonny’s brought him his favorite meal every day so he wouldn’t have to eat hospice food. The manager from Publix brought him cucumbers and asked him if he could be a pall bearer for him. These random people would walk in and ask “Where’s Wayne? Is he doing alright? Can I do anything for him? What about all of you? Tell him I love him. I don’t want to intrude, but can you ask if I can see him? Is he well enough to see me?”….. strangers to us, but family to him. He was damn near close to a saint.
Despite it all, it’s something I regret. I regret that Will isn’t speaking with his parents anymore because of the things they said to him. To me. About him. About me. I am heartbroken that I lost the last person in that family who was understanding, kind, and so very proud of Will. Of me.
Will is someone to be proud of. You know from previous posts that his mother is disdainful because he’s “only a lawyer.” Wasting his life in service to others working for rehabilitation and homeless centers, now for the region’s food bank. Will’s father is upset that Will shattered his knees in a training accident and couldn’t be an Admiral in the Navy. PoPo thought he was amazing. He was so encouraging. That is what I will miss most of all.
This isn’t what I sat down to write about. At all. But it just came out. I guess maybe I’m not over it. I’m still sad. I expect I will be for a while.
I hope when it comes my time, I’ll have been the kind of person who treated others so well that random people will show up looking for me.
But I already told Will to cremate me and call it good. No funeral. No long proceedings. No tears. No prayers. I want to live in a way that no one will feel like they have to have me in a box to be okay. No stress of planning a funeral. No flowers. No boxes. No burial plots. No headstones. Headstones never last anyway. Sooner or later, everything is lost to time anyway, and that’s okay.