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Continuing from yesterday, or whenever that was - my linear time sense is currently borked. I have continued to have to make terrible decisions since Saturday. And my mother has continued to be my mother. My sister and even my niece have really stepped up, though, to the max they can, which helps.

I slept over in my dad's room Monday night. Hospice has very comfortable convertible bed/couch thingies. Much better than the hospital. In fact, I'd totally sleep on that thing all the time. The staff tells me that I may be in the half of people who really like them, as half really don't, but I like firm supportive beds, so.

When my mom finally got there Tuesday and I was leaving, I noticed my dad had kind of drooled a little so I wiped it up before I left. As I was doing that my mom got up and stood between me and the door, sort of pinning me by the bed and asking what I was doing and why. That was weird enough, but when I said oh, I just noticed that he drooled a little she got weirder. So I explained, in less inflammatory language and fewer words, that it wasn't some obsessive care thing that she was supposed to be doing as THE WIFE. She then said, "You said something about fluids," and I said, "Uh, no, I didn't?" because I was completely confused. She insisted I said the word "fluids"; I said no, all I said was "drool".

I'm sure this sounds inane in a typed account, but the next thing that happened, in spite of history, was deeply shocking to me. Her entire body posture and facial expression changed and I have trouble describing her expression but if you've seen it you know it and if you haven't know that you never want to, especially if it is directed at you. It was vicious, murderous, rageful, feral, calculating. It was a threat, it was aimed at me, and it was dangerous. She kept trying to lock eyes. It turns out it is possible to look at someone and not lose eye contact without actually locking gaze. Which is what I did. I also kept all tension out of my body, which hadn't started with any so that helped.

She was literally ready to attack me because she misheard a word I said and I insisted that I hadn't said it. When I say attack, btw, I mean kill. She probably couldn't have in that moment without terrible luck on my part because she wasn't surprising me. However, I'm not stupid enough to think that was something to test. People get killed all the time by people who shouldn't have been able to kill them.

After what probably wasn't nearly as long as it seemed, she took a step back, half turned away and dropped gaze, then turned back and said something along the lines of it's this room, I have trouble hearing things in this room. Which is true. The heating and cooling system in the room gives off a quiet masking noise that for some reason particularly interferes with her hearing aids. However, not at all why she went there, but since that's what she had to tell herself to back out of that state, fine.

It is important to note that this happened next to my father's bed, and therefore, next to my father. I will not explain why, but at some level he was likely very aware.

One of the things that I did not mention in my prior posting is that although I do not believe in superstitious mumbo jumbo, my sister and I had come to the thought that my father was not leaving because he was staying to protect me from my mother. That conversation took place Tuesday evening, after the incident I just described.

Ok. I'm sitting in Barnes and Noble to get some privacy to type this and I am struggling not to lose it while I type this part. I wasn't kidding yesterday when I said this was difficult. But hey! I remembered not to try wearing makeup because I don't use waterproof mascara and I clearly need to find some. Also, it's fucking hard to see what you're typing when everything is refracted through pools of salty water. Fucking bodies, man.

ANYWAY

Obviously, we struggled with this discussion and realization. I met with the hospice social worker Wednesday morning. We had set up an appointment the week before because she was going to try to help me find new counseling resources since mine had collapsed. In the end, she spent an hour and a half with me and essentially did some counseling. And we talked about what my dad needed so he could go. And he needed to know I was safe.

I feel NO GUILT OR RESPONSIBILITY WHATSOEVER, WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT. We also talked about how this isn't on me, and while my thinking brain gets that my feeling brain is not helping At All. Also, the yelling in all caps is not as effective at stopping the salty water as it should be.

After that I spent about 2 hours with my dad and I told him that it was ok, that I was safe, and he could go. I said that several times, quietly, calmly, so it maybe sounded true. So I lied to my father so he could go. Great. I FEEL SO MUCH BETTER NOW. Not that I believe in superstitious mumbo jumbo or anything. It is factual that hearing is the last sense to go, though, fwiw.

And I am conflicted about whether it is good or bad that I knew that his breathing changed when I spoke to him and what that breathing was. (If you're bored, certain breathing pattern changes are associated with death and dying.) I also mentioned the breathing change to the staff right before I left and they came in and checked on him and we agreed to let it be. They also, I learned later, had a volunteer come and sit with him since my mother did not actually appear so he wouldn't be alone when he died. I may not have mentioned this, but fuck you, universe.

The reason I left is that my mom texted me that she was finally going to be coming over so I decided I didn't want to be there with her around and I fully trust the hospice staff, anyway, so I said goodbye to my dad, and that I was safe, and it was ok one last time and I let the staff know that I was leaving and my mom was supposed to be there shortly.

He died between 15-30 minutes after I left.

What does it say that I'd rather be crying, relatively anonymously, I guess, in a public place than anywhere near the house or my mother? I needed to type this, though, so.

Way to bury the lede.
My dad died yesterday afternoon.

I have other stuff I need to say but I should probably take a break for a bit.

Thanks for listening.