I have found that many things ended when my Dad passed away. It was not just the end of Mark Chuhon’s life on earth, but the end of my earthly relationship with him as father, the end of a life-long trial of the ins and outs of Dad and the family, the end of my tennis lessons, Canucks game traditions, cooking the food he likes, finishing his crossword puzzles. In a nutshell, his death marked the end of the creation of any new experiences that I would have shared with him in the realms of life I had relationship with him.
The end came abruptly, far before his final breath. The moment I heard he had “C” I did not really understand in my head what that meant. But I noticed small changes in my behavior. I wouldn’t put the tennis racket away, but I would refuse to touch it. I watched Canucks games, but only bits and pieces — a whole different Somi that anyone knows being the big Canucks fan that I am. When something needed fixing that I usually ask Dad for, it stayed unfixed. It was almost as if I needed to create new remembrances of Dad, even if they were sad ones. To ignore it and move on as before without him was a painful thought indeed.
These are the endings. They are merciless not something I would have chosen for myself. Like a clock ticking away, these kinds of endings will take place without any ability of mine to stop it. They are done TO me.
But finding closure is a sweet mercy I am finding in this swarm of change. And in this enterprise, time is my friend. I have been bred to always fill my time with production and progression. I look to goals and I achieve them (or at times, even compete for them). But closure doesn’t necessarily come this way. It takes time for myself to adjust. And while I realize that I need to stay intentional, I don’t need to “make it happen.” I just need to allow it to happen.
Two weeks ago, my dirty laundry was the same laundry that was there when my Dad passed away. Therein were the clothes that I wore when I spent my last moments with him, the clothes that I wore to the many, many funerals. But about two weeks ago, my mind clicked, and I knew I had to get the laundry done. And when it was done, and I pulled out the articles of clothing that I loathed to touch, I sobbed, and then I folded the clothes and put it away. And that was that.
My whole life these days is about small closures that the “endings” have forced me to address. One by one, pieces of my life are finding a new path.
so beautiful, so profound and so heartbreaking