tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4577546745078520453.post6536392361155315251..comments2024-03-28T00:16:56.038-04:00Comments on Lens Bubbles: OT: It Takes a Real Man to CryLens Bubblehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06445561503570800312noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4577546745078520453.post-195173329966182112012-10-23T10:24:11.200-04:002012-10-23T10:24:11.200-04:00Thank for sharing your story. Often we don't ...Thank for sharing your story. Often we don't know how we truly feel until long after things are over. Being humans we are a confused lot with conflicting emotions. I know you will do well. Men like you are going through life with many ups and downs, but that makes you stronger than most. At the end, you can proudly tell yourself that you have lived, while many others merely stayed alive until the end.Lens Bubblehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06445561503570800312noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4577546745078520453.post-5114094766480178872012-10-23T00:13:12.536-04:002012-10-23T00:13:12.536-04:00oh, and yes, I agree that bottling it up is just t...oh, and yes, I agree that bottling it up is just the worst solution.obakesanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13743339737847465926noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4577546745078520453.post-4932974056056212062012-10-22T23:58:34.919-04:002012-10-22T23:58:34.919-04:00Yu-lin, thank you for your kind words about my blo...Yu-lin, thank you for your kind words about my blog. I feel I understand what you mean about your father. I also had a shaky relationship with mine. In the final year of his life as I was discovering his medical issues I managed to move past that anger that I had contained over the years over our conflicts and differences. By the time he was a shrunken man that I was wheeling around in a wheel chair between oncology and palliative care specialists I came to the realisation that not only could he no longer hurt me, but that I felt sorry for him.<br /><br />I wondered to Anita if when he died I would feel anything, would I be touched or would I feel simply nothing?<br /><br />The evening before he died Anita and I were there by his bed side. He was feeling very lonely and so my wife just held his hand for some hour or so and I fed him some cherries (which he loved). He too had lost his partner (not my mother) of some 12 years just only the month before, and was clearly very distressed by this. I can say with some confidence that it is why he "dropped his bundle" and passed on rather quickly in his last month.<br /><br />When the nursing home called me in the morning to say that he had passed on (at about 11am the next day) I was numb but functional. When I entered the room and saw him laying there on the bed I burst into tears and took some time to form words. After a time I was able to say things again, and as I was leaving I patted him on the shoulder and went to say "I'll see you at the funeral mate". But the touch of his body was suddenly like something penetrating me. The unyeilding and dead nature of his corpse became more apparent to me than simply seeing it.<br /><br />Over the next few weeks (I have had only that) I spoke with Anita often about this, and how I felt. She knew well the many things I had said about my father in the previous years, and she had only met him briefly in 2007 and then in 2010 when we came back to Australia from Finland. These conversations (and all those at the funeral) really helped me to put to rest in my own mind my father and our relationship.<br /><br />Thanks again for your kindness.obakesanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13743339737847465926noreply@blogger.com