This is PhD chat, but because my PhD thesis is autoethnographical, it is also entwined in the personal by both circumstance and design. In my last update about my writing journey, I spoke about how I wanted to be able to finish my last draft chapter before Christmas, in the hope of spending the first half of 2025 revising the thesis for submission. I did, however, warn, while this was my intention, I was fully aware that life can get in the way of goals.
As it was, on the 14th of November, I sent the final (draft) chapter off to my supervisors, well ahead of schedule. I had been working hard to write it as quickly, and as fully as possible, as my dad was unwell. I didn’t know where this particular spell of illness would take us, other than daily trips to the hospital for visiting and frequent, crippling uncertainty.
Dad went into hospital on the 30th of October, and at that time we thought he would get IV antibiotics and then, after a few days recovery, we would be bringing him home where we could care for him. It wasn’t to be. And although 14th of November me didn’t know this would be the outcome, I did feel a powerful urgency to finish as soon as I could. I was compelled to engage, focus, write. At that point, I think, I wanted to do this so I could focus more time on helping Dad through his recovery.
But there was no recovery. Dad died, in hospital, by my side, much to the shock of us all, on the 26th of November.
I have done very little with the thesis since then, some tinkering on simpler supervisor feedback, reinforcing my references and bibliography and making sure I am adhering to the style guide. Deep thinking can only be about Dad just now. His funeral arrangements, his eulogy, his absence, the pain he has left behind.
Whilst I didn’t allow myself to outwardly think it, by finishing the chapter earlier than intended I was freeing space to deal with my mum’s first anniversary (on the 19th of November) and then the beginning of the long farewell to Dad. That said, I don’t think I’ll ever stop saying goodbye.
The PhD isn’t everything, it is an elective course. However, it is something in that it is the very shape of me, and I am of my Dad, my family, my background and upbringing and all these things are at the very core of my thesis. This bereavement is part of me and consequently it will become part of my writing as I cannot be separated from it.
So. 2025 will bring a new direction and the outcome will undeniably be different because of this loss. Breathe in and keep it in, as once it is gone it is gone.
Margot McCuaig 