In memory of our dad, John Sierra. We love you always and forever!
Guest Blogger, Karen Boggess (my sister)
Grief
I wanted to share something very personal because it may be helpful to someone else. It is also helpful to me to express what I cannot seem too verbally articulate. Not helpful in the sense that everything will be ok but helpful in being honest about grief. As many of you know we recently lost our dad to pancreatic cancer. A disease that when diagnosed is often terminal. Our dad got one more year of life but it was filled with pain, hospitalizations, and lots of medication.
Our dad had other medical conditions as well but he somehow miraculously, through the beautiful support of our mom, combatted them … but the pancreatic cancer did not care about his will, determination, or strength. This brings me to grief.
I thought I had prepared my head and my heart for this day. I mean it happens to all of us. Most of the time we outlive our parents. I knew this day would come and especially after my dad was diagnosed, it was that much more real. We had some practice runs with him almost losing his life, but he always was able to “bounce back”. It was like we got used to the circus and the emotional and mental roller coaster. With my dad’s last hospitalization, we had long conversations of his bucket list and things he wanted to do. We talked about him authoring a book of his life. The man had quite a life. I digress, that is a story for a different day! One thing was crystal clear, he did not want to die. He desperately wanted to live, but unfortunately his body said otherwise. I realize all the preparation I did in my head and with my heart went right out the window. I have never been so crushed and rocked as I am now. It is like a part of my foundation and my roots are gone and will never come back. It is a very surreal feeling. I do not like it. Quite frankly, it sucks. I know in time it may not be this intense or it will be – somehow, we all just learn to live with it. I have never prayed more for a chance to hear my dad’s voice saying “Hi Kaz, I love you” or feeling his arms wrapped around me in a bear hug. I find myself a scattered mess, not as sharp as I was, and completely an emotional ball of feelings that can spring at any time. I now feel bad for not fully understanding this or knowing this, what others have gone through, but you do not really know until it happens to you. It is a club you do not want to be in and one you can never get out of.
I do have faith that I will see my dad again, I know not everyone shares this but I do. Until then I will live a life of fullness because my dad would want that, I want that, and I have a son counting on me to love him like my dad loved me.
