So yesterday I made my last visit to Dow Rummel Village.
The nursing home where Dad and Grammie had lived.
I went to thank all the girls for taking such good care of my dad. I brought them flowers and food and thank you cards. I wanted them to know how much I appreciate them.
They took much better care of him than I ever would have been able to do.
They didn’t have a history with him.
They didn’t freak out if they had to touch him.
They thought he was a funny, kinda sexist, old guy. He just turned 69 in March.
They loved him and they will miss him.
I didn’t and I won’t.
When asked how I was doing, really doing, by someone who really loves me?
I said I felt relieved. I don’t have to feel any guilt about not visiting more. I don’t have to feel any more guilt about not being able to touch him. I don’t have to go into his smelly room ever again.
He died on Thursday
The boy and I flew out on Friday. The hubs left Bangladesh on Friday. The boy and I cleaned out the room on Saturday. The hubs arrived Sunday afternoon. Again, just like when Grammie died in December, I did all the work, made all the plans, and took care of everything that needed to be done. By myself, with only one working arm. And a moody teenager. Sometimes I feel like I want to be an only child.
But now it’s done. I will never again have to go to Dow Rummel Village or Walter’s Funeral Home.
A chapter of my life is over. A long chapter. A chapter that I am still coming to terms with. But perhaps that will be easier now.