It's kind of like waiting for Christmas to come if you're a kid. Once all the presents are opened and colored paper covers the floor and you discover Santa forgot to put batteries in your stocking there is a natural melt down period. Nobody can keep that state of excitement for long. Or if you're the mom, aka one of Santa's elves, after all the shopping, wrapping, and assembling, there is still the colored paper all over the floor to clean up and a festive dinner to prepare.
It's not that the waiting was awful (though it can be hard work) or the object of the waiting not what you expected. It's just that when it happens it sort of feels like "okay, that's done, now what's next."
Well, for me, the what next is a funeral, the sorting, the cleaning, the packing up, the giving away, the busy-ness of the days to come so I don't have to think about life as I've known it for 15 years. I know there is grieving and planning ahead, but for now I've got things to keep me occupied. I would like, at some point, to be able to compile my experience as a caregiver into a book. And there's that "Freedom" word that keeps coming up.
Tonight freedom means going to bed and sleeping for as long as I want. It means taking caring for myself by living a "should-free" life. It means giving up my sense of responsibility by letting someone else handle the details of the day. It means letting myself feel that I've done a good job, and accept others' praises without minimizing the work I've done. It means killing time, getting a pedicure, taking a walk, visiting friends, joining the Y and getting lost in a good book for no other reason than I can.
Thanks to all of you for your kind words and loving hearts,