I hate September - for me its the worst month on the calendar, its slammed full of horrid memories. I see it come around and wish that I could just sleep right through it. September is the anniversary of bad decisions, losing a lot of loved ones.
September never fails to bring with it the the memory of the final month with my father. Errands I ran for my mom, the time I had to go get adult diapers for my dad, the afternoons spent sitting in the living room while he was in a hospital bed in that very living room so mom could get a few hours out of the house, away from the hospice workers, the medicine schedules, the will "it" be today feeling.
The memory of the late night phone call to rush over and help, my dad had fallen out of bed trying to go look for my mom. The vision of my husband picking my dad up and helping him back to bed. The tears that memory always brings forth. My once very strong, very proud, very military father having to be picked up and put back into bed. It did however give me a glimpse of the compassion and strength my husband has in his heart and soul.
The memory of that final day, the sitting in the living room, the haggard breaths my father struggled to take the thought that "this is not how it goes in the movies" and "this is not peaceful". The phrase "he went peacefully" is plain and utter bullshit. The hospice nurse calling in to her manager saying someone else would have to go on to her next stop, that she was sitting with us as Mr. Reynolds was working on leaving today.
Holding his hand as he took his last breaths talking him out of this world and into his next. How in true military fashion down to the end he left at 3:45 pm on the dot. Then sitting there lost in thoughts and memories waiting on the funeral home.
September has simply become the month where a lot of bad shit has happened, it is the anniversary month of losing several people in my life. It's simply the month I would love to just sleep through and wake up when its over.
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