It's Not Funny Anymore

Suddenly, this blog isn't funny anymore. It's not really fun either although I am compelled to write and I derive a of measure of satisfaction from that.  It helps me get the feelings out and organized and somehow makes me feel productive.  But what I mean is that physically I can still laugh and others either laugh at me or with me.  I can't really distinguish between the two, although they say they are laughing with me.  It's just that I can't seem to write funny stuff now.

It's Dad's fault. <---That's a joke, I'm not really blaming him and by the way, if he were able to read that he would laugh too, so there. 

Why am I acting oh so mature by writing "so there"?  Am I suddenly 12 again?

Anyway, ever since he died two weeks ago all I can seem to write is stuff about him.  I suppose it's therapeutic in some ways.  Yesterday's post made me cry a little so that was probably good.  However, I would really like to write something funny and take a break from all the boo-hooing stuff.  There hasn't been much of the boo-hooing part anyway.  Yet.  I'm told it's coming down the pike though.  Yippy Skippy.  I can't wait.  Please feel free to leave a Kleenex in the donation box.

The crying part feels kind of selfish though.  There's other people who have experienced death too.  There's also people who are in worse circumstances than I am. So, I sort of feel like I need to put on one of my happy hats and be happy.

Except for that seems fake because I'm not really very happy.  For that matter, I'm not really sad either.  I'm just not anything.  People say, "How are you today?"  and I respond with "Fine".  I even did it the very next day after Dad died.  As I walked out of wherever I was I thought, "Hello dork!  Did you just tell someone you are fine?  You watched your Dad die last night.  You are far from fine."

I like to talk to myself.  Leave me alone and don't judge because you know you do it too.  :)  I don't call myself Dork though.  I only did it here because truthfully, I think "dork" is kind of funny when it's spelled out and it's also funny to say aloud.  Try it, but don't call others Dork because that will hurt their feelings.

I did a little bit of research on grief and from what I could ascertain, I guess this "flat" feeling is normal.  I suppose it's still shock although that seems a little ridiculous to me at this point as well.  How can you be in shock for this long?  From what I gathered in my research, this could go on for a couple of months!  Weird.  Or maybe it isn't shock at all and it's a fear of what's going to happen when I start to process all that has been lost?  Maybe it's the fear that's keeping me flat and not shock after all.  How would I know?

Losses:
Dad was a grandfather to my kids
My friend
A staunch supporter of me
Someone to talk to
A good Advisor
Fun to work with
A great cook
Generous
Loved to laugh and make others laugh

The list could go on, but honestly, I can't even begin to comprehend this.  I can say that I am happy (that CANNOT be the right word here) that he left his body to be studied for educational purposes.  The reason why I am OK with that is:

1) Helping others is what he loved to do.  This was a final way for him to help someone else possibly have a better life if it enabled the doctors to find out more about liver disease and it's process.

2) Grandma Bower died when I was 16.  For at least a year afterward, I was completely creeped out over the fact that she was in the ground every single time it rained, snowed or got really cold.  Apparently, I figured she was better off in the ground when it was really hot, because that never bothered me.  The thought that she might somehow have been buried alive, drove me nuts too.  Also, I once had a nightmare about worms and snakes that I refuse to go into here.  I do not believe "Grandma" was actually where she was buried though.  Her body was, but not her soul which is what made her the person I loved.  So weather forecasts were irrelevant and even though I knew it, I could not stop myself from being creeped out.

3) It's been raining here ALL week.  In light of the above comments, this is self explanatory.

4) I don't believe Dad is strolling around in a ghost like state through the halls of U of M Hospital and sneaking off to the cafeteria for some of those chocolate chip cookies they had there either.  His body is there, like Grandma's was in the ground, but his soul or the essence of who he was is in another place.  I believe he was reunited with family that went before him and if I am right, then he has also met God face to face.  That's pretty incredible and cool and I can't be sad about that part.  I'd say I'm kind of jealous of that except for the part in the Bible where we are told to guard against jealousy.  Plus, it's kind of weird to be jealous of a dead person, even if it is your Dad.

I am going to go to Cafepress and design my new t-shirts though.  One is going to read "causes laughter at inappropriate times" and the other one is going to read "laughs at inappropriate times".  That's because when we were at the hospital my sisters and I were busted repeatedly while we were laughing.  It may have seemed irreverent to an outsider, but if you had known Dad, then you would have understood.  Plus, I would have gone stir crazy if I had not been able to laugh at, with, my sisters.  At least we weren't pointing fingers at whoever was crying at the time and laughing at them or calling each other Dork.  That would have been mean and also something we would have done if we were 12, mid 40's.

I think Dad was laughing with us during those days at the hospital.  I also believe I'll write something funny again someday when I make it to the other side of "The Grief Process".  Please feel free to read that by making quote marks with your fingers and saying it like Chris Farley would have since that's exactly what I just did.

So there.