My dear father

My father is dying in the other room as I type this. I can hear the deep and unpredictable breathing that comes with the active phase dying. There are also waves of laughter and tears from my family, my unique and beautiful family. Our clan has been sitting vigil for the past for the past six days. A lovely flow of coming and going. He has been actively dying for close to 45 hours at this point and we are all longing for it to be over soon. We are loving being together and finding honor as we are the guardians of his journey. I am also beyond exhausted. The truly unique form of exhaustion that accompanies impending death and anticipatory grief. When Jordan was dying, prior to my becoming a Doula, I had minimal knowledge of the true heaviness of this load. It is all consuming and that is not an understatement! My brain is not serving me well at this point and, I believe at times, it is working against me! My whole body aches and feels jittery. My feet are heavy and when they have to move my body it feels like I am trying to move through not quite dry concrete. As I preach, I have been doing my best to incorporate self care. I am walking each day, taking small slices of time for deep cleansing breaths, reminding myself to breathe frequently, and sitting on my parents deck soaking in the cloak of crispness in the mornings and the slow explosion of the fall colors. When I am alone and focused I can feel the presence of my mother Betty Ireland, Jordan, my brother John (notice the Pali hat), and many others waiting to embrace my dad.  Being mindful of the comfort of others, especially my wonderful mother, is also an important part of this moment in time for me. Finding the sweet spot between self care and being there for others is not a straight, flat path. It is hilly, runs alongside a cliff, and has unpredictable landslides that pop up (sounds like Pittsburgh!). At its core, the overwhelming sense of honor and respect for this process hugs me as I walk these final steps with my beloved father Richard (Dick) Joseph Ireland.

I see you, I am you. Be well all.