Big box of gauze

For the last five years every time my Dad came home from the hospital he would give me a bag of things he had "collected" during his stay. If someone came in with 5 packs of gauze and only used part of one he'd put the other unopened four in the bag. If they used some tape they'd end up giving him the remaining rolls they had brought to go in his bag. Same with any antibiotic ointment, zinc oxide, iodine packets, rubber gloves, even hand lotion. Everything the nurse would bring in to the room had to either stay or be thrown away, it couldn't go back to the cart (VA policy for ALL wound and hygiene care supplies). They'd give him "extra" to take home too...and he'd always make sure he had a bag of this stuff to give to me as well, because "You need this because if you have it you probably won't need it" is what he used to say.

So thanks to my Dad, I have this big (huge) box of sterile med wound care supplies, gauze and tape and such (plus our household first aid stuff) in the cupboard. Grief sneaks up on you in the strangest places. Sometimes you open the cupboard door and there it is, that barely formed scab ripped away and the agonizing wound of loss all fresh and gooey just like it happened a couple hours, minutes, seconds ago. That feeling of drowning in sorrow, of loss and heartache knowing that there is no one there anymore, that's just a shell. The spark that made them who they were, that amazing person has passed and you will never see their big smile and their eyes light up on this Earth again.

The only regret I have is that we didn't have more time, that he didn't have more time but the truth is that there never would have been enough time. I'm greedy, I would have always wanted more.

Most days I'm OK, which means I'm grieving yes, and I'm sad (of course) but I'm making it through the day instead of lying face down on the floor and crying into the carpet. Just carrying him in my heart and doing what I can, going forward and living my life as I always have and continue making him proud. It's the best thing I can do, it's the only thing for me to do. I'm moving forward and missing him yes and tearing up now and then or crying a little here and there but not wallowing in my grief.

Most days that is.

And I'm just a basket case right now over a big box of gauze. He was my hero and my champion and I miss him so much sometimes it hurts to breathe.

Hug your loved ones close and make sure they know they are loved every time you part from them. It's the best thing you can ever do for someone, make sure they know they are loved.

Peace out.