Sometimes I really do wish
I could go cry to my mom because I miss her so much. I know she would understand. I know she would know what to say. She was a person that had seen me during
every step of my life and knew more about certain aspects of my journey than I
do, even now. She was an incredible
woman! AND as much as I disliked how she
wouldn’t want to let me go when I would see her (like tight hugs in which she
refused to release me until I told her her to stop…then she’d kiss my forehead
like it was the last time I was going to see her), I wish I could let her do
that just one more time.
I keep reading about
grief and hearing about it from my amazing and loving friends, family, and
community. You all are beyond
AMAZING! Sometimes, however, I find it
easier to just dial back all of the emotions.
To not talk about them because I can’t articulate them or am afraid I’ll
start crying and won’t know how to stop.
AND not only do I think that I would be lost in that moment, but I don’t
want you to be lost too. It’s quite
silly, I know!
You all are such
beautiful people. Many of you have said
over and over again “it’s okay to cry” and many of you more than once. You’ve even said that I don’t have to hold it
together all the time and losing control is okay.
I probably have lost
control with you in the room and/or on the phone, but you might not have known
it. Or perhaps you might have thought I
wouldn’t let you hold me while I cried, that I would try to suppress what I was
feeling and push away.
I want a new reality or
new realities. I want to talk about
those who I love very much and have lost.
I want to cry and show you all how much they mean to me and meant to
those they loved so dearly. I want to be
strong enough to express just how much they meant to me and how much I miss
them, God, do I miss them. I want to
show the world that healthy grieving is about painting a beautiful picture with
laughter AND tears AND memories AND anger AND everything else that each of us
experiences during the process (for we are all unique).
A little while ago I had
lunch with a friend. My friend is a
nurse and she was telling me about how she had a patient come in shortly after
my mom passed who had a story similar to the one my mom lived the last day or so
of her life on earth. I’m not sure if
she intended to ever so gently invite me to talk about my mom and give me a
safe space to grieve, but she did. I
started crying and she reached out to hold my hand and comfort me. I am so thankful for her and for the time
where I showed myself that I am strong enough to let myself grieve.
I do want to talk more about
my mom. I do want to grieve her loss for
this shows the world how much it has lost.
So just know when I do start to talk about her, I will probably cry AND
I will probably have a hard time crying in front of you; some more than
others. AND I might even want to make it
stop. So please do one or more of the
following: give me a hug, tell me it’s okay, encourage me, ask more questions,
and do your best to create a safe space.
When you ask how I am doing ask about my grieving, ask about what makes
me think of my Mom.
I can’t do this without
you all. I do need you. And I want to share with you. I believe we all help shape each other and
that when a person leaves our life out of choice (ours or theirs) or not we
suffer a loss. I think we need to grieve
that loss. I think we are here to help
each other through that. I think it
helps when we try to be real with each other about the emotional part of loss,
but to also give ourselves and each other grace and space to do this. And I think it helps too to ask and to let
each other know we care.
I’ll never be able to
accurately articulate just how much each one of you means to me. I appreciate you. I love you to the moon and back. And I hope you know how important you are to
me. I certainly wouldn’t be me without
you!
