pieces of me

Today, as I was driving Claire to Taekwondo, I had a hard time listening to her. She was cheerful as always, chatting as always, being cute … as always. But I couldn’t listen. Because just ten minutes prior my coworker called to say my friend’s husband died today. But all  I kept thinking about Tony.

If you’re new to the blog or forgot, Tony was my very dear high school friend who died in a car crash shortly after he graduated. And after all of that mess, I’ve been left a bit tainted, so to say.

I’ve been around death before. I’ve seen death. I’ve witnessed it happening before my very eyes. And there’s two different kinds of death to me. The before death and the after death.

When my great-grandmothers passed, I was sad for my family and I was sad for the loss. That’s the before death.

Then Tony died.

Now all I have is the after death. I’m respectful and I’m competent, but after a patient passes, I really feel nothing. I feel loss for the family, but I don’t get emotional. I suppose I’m just the person the family would want around, so that I don’t make them more emotional, but I’ve really learned to displace myself from the situation.

But today, a friend died. And when my coworker told me, I felt nothing. I felt numb. And she was on the other end of the phone, with sadness present in her voice and all I could think was finally it’s over. And I’m left here wondering if that’s the appropriate thing to feel.

When Tony died, a piece of me died, too. Even after all these years I still don’t know how to get myself back to my old normal. I’m still loving, caring, devoted…all good qualities. But death to me feels just so normal. So natural. So numbing. I can blame it on being a nurse all I want, but I know it’s a lie.

I’m sad for my friend. So deeply sad. And I’m sad for her daughter.

But I’m scared that she’ll feel the way I do. Because even though Tony was never my husband or father to my children, for many years, he was a huge part of my life, and that piece of my life is over. And now a huge part of her life is over. And it’s not fair.

I just can’t cry right now.


About Cassie

Two sisters from two misters. What could be more fun?

Posted on March 8, 2011, in Cassie. Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. I’m sorry for your loss, dearie, no matter how you choose to categorize it.

    Just remember that there is no “right” way to mourn. Everyone handles death in their own way and no one should think otherwise.

  2. Grief is a strange thing and everyone copes with it differently. I’m so sorry to hear about your friend and I truly hope that she can get some peace from knowing he’s not in pain anymore. I hope that you can eventually find peace too.

  3. This is so very, very sad.

    You’ll cry when it’s time.

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