Grief is the price we pay for love. We will never get over this but pray we can get through it.
My husband saw this conversation on tv between two people struggling with addiction which can easily be applied to grievers:
“Does it get any easier, please tell me it gets easier”?
“No, but you get used to how hard it is”.
To say its hard is an understatement to the relentless pain of loss. Is there really a way to get accustomed to being so uncomfortable in a world where I sometimes feel like a misfit?
If only I could remember first that Amy lived instead of her death which continues to be overshadowing her life in my heart. I do believe I have connected with most of the lovely people via my blog not because our loved one died, but because they lived. Will we ever find a way through the deep valley of despair? It is so lonely in the valley yet your courage to reach out to me and allow me to speak my truth has given light to the darkness of that loneliness.
All I can feel now is the death story — it’s too early for me to easily accept and revisit much of Amy’s life story. Amy did not leave me with her death story; grief insists on replaying Devastation Day behind my own lamenting for the absence of all of the joys she brought to my life.
Thank you, Amy, for blessing my life. It wasn’t long enough, but your physical life here was indeed a gift. You are a testament of a beautiful love story between a mother and her child. It is my earnest hope that the day will come when I am able to speak your life story which spanned almost 28 years and forget as much of the death story which was over in a blink of an eye.
Sadly, I still cannot relate or feel comfortable hearing joy in other grievers stories because I am still trying to make sense of the death story along with the secondary losses that followed. That is where I am — not stuck, so don’t go there — but rather honestly sharing my own current landmark on my path in grief.
We each carry our grief on our own timeline and in our own way. Sometimes I think if I could just peak in on Amy where she exists now and be reassured that she is truly in bliss, then just maybe I could find my way to her life story. Sure I have seen her in meditations and in dreams and this mother’s heart wants to “believe” in all that is seen and unseen, but the small element of doubt sometimes overshadows all the hard awkward work I have done to embrace my daughter in spirit.
I am not superwoman; I am just an ordinary sad misunderstood woman trying to find a way to cope with the sudden death of her youngest child. Do not tell me you are worried about me because you cannot handle my honesty about losing my child.
Maybe I should end this post with a Happy Mother’s Day but I just can’t. I know mother’s day is complicated for many people for different reasons. Wishing each of you glimmers of peace on Sunday.
Always remembering Amy.