Originally Posted by SmilingWife
Originally Posted by LadyGrey
My father died in front of my eyes and two things happened:

1. I felt nothing. I cried when he was dying but when he died I was very much, "why are you all standing around this dead person?" I still feel nothing. He died. That's what 100% of people do. There's nothing to it as far as I could tell. They pump you full of morphine and take away your oxygen and you die. You get to make the decisions that lead to that outcome before hand.

2. I lost my faith. Like in an instant. Daddy was there and he died and I thought that's it, and stopped believing in anything. I still go through the motions but I don't believe a bit of it. I told my husband this and he asked how that made me feel, and I said

Grabby. It makes me want to grab whatever I can right now. NOW. As far as I can tell there is never any accountability for bad behavior. Our President positively rolls in this new ethical construct.

I went from the moral construct of the Abrahamic religious traditions to "I have no idea what guides me" in 3.2 seconds.

I am trying really hard to follow your thought process on #2. It seems as if you are saying your belief was strongly and maybe completely tied to your relationship with your father.

As far as # 1....well, I love Orchids reference to Kind David's reaction to the death of his child. You do what you can while you can....then when it is over you get up and move on with the practical things.


I think my faith was strong and not particularly tied to my father. He wasn't a man of faith by any means but you'd be hard pressed to find a better man.

It was the dying SW. I've never seen anyone die before. It's only been a couple of months but I don't know what to make of it.

He was there and then he wasn't and everyone was standing around this dead body of this person who resembled no one I knew and all I could think was, "I HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE." I was desperate.

I can't say I handled the whole thing perfectly, but the last thing my husband said to me when I got out of the car at the airport to go watch my father die was, "keep your goddamn mouth shut."

And I did.

Daddy died on the Sunday and my husband flew into Houston that day -- we were in Dallas -- and he didn't change his flight to come be with me -- with us. Everyone wanted him to come but he didn't come until the Wednesday.

He didn't come to be with me on the day I watched my father die. And he easily could have.

This is why I think the POJA is such utter crap. I wanted him there with me -- I don't actually think that's much to ask -- and he wanted me to not go at all. You just can't POJA that.

Bidden or not bidden God is present.