Tag: sorrow

A Fretful Day

Another horrid night. Enthralled in the unraveling of a life…watching…waiting. The ground ebbing away. The gut stuck to the spine. A pressure cooker waiting to explode. She sat at the table staring at papers that “seemingly” held life and death in it’s lines. The words “DO NOT RESUSCITATE” glaring at her; daunting her. It’s meaning incomprehensible, yet it’s reality could not be escaped.

How did she go from signing a birth certificate to signing papers that would mark her daughter’s demise? She sat numb, frozen…staring into nothingness. A frigid chill enveloped her from within; from without. Was she even breathing? Finally, as in a trance, hand to paper as ink flowed. “Ready pen” was not ready for this.

Her daughter’s screams, “Help me Mom!” Her whisper, “No more appointments, Mom.” That tender and loving stare speaking without a word, “are you going to be ok?” My audible words, “Angie, it’s ok to go. I give you permission. I’m going to be ok. I will miss YOU so, so much, but it’s ok to go.” Her surrender, “ok”.

Tumbling, tumbling in her brain…words, gestures. All ending at this table, making decisions that could never be changed.

Two years have passed since this fretful day, yet its memory is as palpable as today.

“only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation can that which is indestructible be found in us.” ~ Pema Chödrön

Storm in May

Look up in the sky! Can you see them? Can you feel the rumble? Dark ominous clouds are approaching. There’s a frigid chill in the air. It’s a-comin! No way to stop it. Preparations are in full effect. However, the storm’s unpredictability is a huge factor. And, although it’s intensity and force cannot be gauged, it’s good to prepare.

May is here!

May is the month my daughter went to heaven. Another anniversary is approaching. The passing of time continues. Although, this will be the second year marker, I’m learning that these dates can be so unpredictable. I remember My Grieving Friend sharing with me her journey in the land of a bereaved mother. Such a gift to me. She’s twenty years into her journey. She said, “each year is so different”.

And, so we are “preparing”…as much as we know how. Flexibility is the name of the game. The day will come and it will go. One day doesn’t make the grief worse or less. It’s another second without ANGIE. The longing to hold her will continue until the day I hold her once again.

Mourning

Mourning began the day of your diagnosis, and so it went…

your body, your face…changing before my eyes. somber faces all around, unable to tell me what I “knew” was coming…BUT had no idea the train wreck it would be.

oh, there was laughter and glimmers of hope, BUT  sorrow and grief were waiting at the door. Ah, the tsunami that would soon engulf me…no way to prepare.

your body, a shell of what it had been. your face, tiny, ashy. your eyes, sunken, shut. your mouth…no more sounds. how? why? ugh!!!

Mourning continued…BUT, oh what awaited, who can prepare?!?!

cold, horridly cold…a shiver shaking my body…that hasn’t stopped

relentless reel playing over and over…your little body placed in a bag. a dark, cold van. a white box – why?!?! how is this even possible?

AND then the inevitable. You know it’s coming, BUT…

the white box, that contains your earthly shell – so precious – is lowered, covered AND you are forever GONE!!!

Unraveled! Undone! Short Circuited! Forever Changed!

Almost twenty-three months…mourning continues…

it will continue until the day we are together, AGAIN ❤

Unwelcome Friend

Ah, my unwelcome friend, you’re back!

Your unannounced visits can be so aggravating,

the length of your stay unknown.

The continual task of learning to welcome you, to embrace your presence

can be exhausting and debilitating.

Your mysterious character unravels me

I don’t understand you! I can’t figure you out! I can’t defeat you!

Accepting your presence; embracing your constant companionship

…is…well…healthier…I guess…

Dare I ask that your visits be less often? shorter? or none at all?

AND, so, I sit with you, my unwelcome friend…

in acceptance and surrender

learning to simply be…

A Step Forward

The thought. The decision. The plan. Support in place. The day had come, unannounced and without fanfare. No spiral. No fight. I guess, somehow, she knew it was time. Resolute and steady.

The walk, eternally long, even thought it was only a few steps away. Legs soft as wet noodles, yet heavy as lead. Standing before a sacred place, surrounded by love and support. In an instant her mind flooded with memories – laughs. giggles. good nights. good mornings. hugs. smiles. love —– screams. tears. pain. sorrow. grief…GOODBYE!

Prayer – Deep breath – Prayer – Deep breath

“I CAN’T! Yes, it’s time. This doesn’t keep her alive. She is not here. You are not forgetting her. BUT…I can’t! Yes, it’s time. BUT…“, the tumultuous thoughts flooded her mind. Surrender. Acceptance. Shoulders down. Clenched hands released. Slow and Steady, the process began.

The soft blue blanket, that she loved to curl with. The teddy bear she tenderly clung to. The shirt that draped her little torso. The pillow, where her little head laid; where tears and sweat drenched it’s every inch. Piece by piece…tearing at my heart. WAIT?!?! How does something that has been obliterated into pieces, break even more? Oh, the mystery of LOVE.

And, so, the bed that held her frail, little body; where she was ushered from this life to the next, was stripped of its garments…two months short of the anniversary of the second year of her departure…Another marker…Another step. Propelled and held by love and acceptance. Oh, the mystery of LOVE.

~ winter has passed ~

⇒♦♦for now♦♦⇐

Stuck

The path has been riddled with puddles of quicksand. No warning signs, no brights lights signaling its upcoming presence. Step, step…STUCK! Step, step…STUCK! In my clear, unstuck moments I’m aware of those that “turn-on” the light and give me a hand, or literally carry me on to the next step…even when I am “done”, with no fight in me.

♥⇒My husband. how? why? does he get tired? will he get tired? gentle, quiet…my man! 35 years and counting…what grace!

♥⇒My Son. he needs his Mom. I need him. he is dealing with the loss of his sister and a Mom that often, checks out. what goes through his mind? does he feel like he’s not good enough to keep me going? is he pressured? is he afraid? my gentle giant! my boy! 34 years old and counting…what grace!

♥⇒My Son’s Girlfriend. loves me. respects me. cares for me. makes me laugh. cries with me. makes me feel so incredibly important. drops everything and sits with me as I spiral, vomiting chaos…AND she is simply there. her presence settles me. her hugs squeeze life into me. how? why? she doesn’t have to? Counting the days, months and years…what grace!

My friend who dropped everything and sat with me at coffee. That roller coaster conversation, with deep lows and huge highs. Sparks, tears and laughs. No judgment. No pat answers. Just grace. My Grieving Friend who spends hours with me on the phone, because distance prevents us from sitting with each other. Twenty years into her journey, which scares the poop out of me, because I can’t even fathom the thought of being without my daughter one moment further. Yet, she speaks Angie’s name, remembers her, talks about her and allows me to talk and talk, and repeat myself over and over…cause one cannot say the story enough. She does, however, remind me and shows me that “it” does get softer. My massage therapist, who is a gift. She not only takes care of this “balled-up-crackly” body, but speaks life into me. As I was leaving from my massage she held me and told me, “You matter! You bless me! Don’t give up! I’m praying for you!” She squeezed me and held me. What grace!

♥⇒My Lifelong Buddy. goofy and all, she demonstrates an unwavering strength of love and loyalty. she doesn’t retreat. she doesn’t stay away from the ugly. she barges in and stays. she constantly puts soft “sponges” on the sharp edges of this porcupine.

God shows up everywhere, surrounding me with these amazing humans. Showering me with love and care. Oh, mercy and grace to sit here and type and breath and take one more step♥

~ Spring always follows Winter  ~

Grief Group

She decided it was time. One day short of twenty-one months. Tic-Toc, Tic-Toc…can you hear time churning? Thankful for a peaceful commute, and a settled mind focusing on navigating directions. It’s here! Deep breath, prayer…more breathing…let’s go!

Two women buzzing around. Do they see me? No smile, no hello…wait, am I at The Writer’s Club? Deep breath…just stay; fight the urge to run out. “Oh, wait, another women just arrived. She’s too bubbly to be here”, was her immediate thought. This is so painfully awkward. Being an Introvert makes the silence worse. And, so began a grueling two hour ordeal…

“What am I trying to prove? Who am I trying to impress? Why put myself in a torturous situation? Do I not hurt enough? How is it that my mindset is so skewed, so jumbled? I HATE THIS!!!”, and so went an onslaught of chaotic waves of thought, upon thought, upon thought.

There were times I thought, “Yes, the Plastic Faces are coming off!” NOT! Only a glimpse was allowed before the masks were securely fasten, back into place…let’s continue the masquerade.

“Why? What are we afraid of? Is reality so difficult, I’d rather live a lie? Do I not want to be open and vulnerable because of fear? Fear of judgment; fear of being misunderstood; fear of what?”, waves and waves of punches of the mind.

Someone decides to vomit; to splatter all she has been holding onto; to open the gates of her mind in a relentless way. The vent up guilt, trauma flowing. The wrestling with what she thought she knew, which pales in comparison to what is happening to her day after day. She doesn’t shut up! She keeps going! Only to get cliches and pat answers. GRRRR!!!

As I am in my chair, shaking uncontrollably! Being horribly triggered by the rawness of this woman. “Run! Go! Escape! Make her shut up! Why is she saying that? I can’t hear this anymore!”, thoughts that came into the spiraling mind. With the added guilt of not being compassionate enough. However, how do I help her out when I’m in my own spiral?

Home now. “How did I get home? What happened?” Unceasing crying and screaming with tumultuous spasms ensue. Beating myself up for not knowing better; for going, too soon; for not being in control.

Finally safe, curled up in a ball…spaced out, exhausted…sleep is welcomed. BUT the nightmares and images assailed my already beat-up soul. And, so, goes my journey with grief…an unwelcomed companion.

Yeah, I’m thinking it wasn’t time – for this :-\

The Day After

Made it to the other side. The fog has cleared. The tightness released. Now the Grief Unchained and the Unfiltered thoughts are released…brace yourself!

My God has not shrunk. My faith has not been diminished. In fact my faith is what keeps me from ending it all; from escaping this world that seems to be vent on adding vinegar to my wound.

You telling me that Angie is on your heart and mind, doesn’t diminish my pain and envy that you are celebrating your daughter’s special day. Do I always have to take the high road? Do I always have to think nice happy thoughts? Can you allow me to be real and honest about my sorrow and grief? Does it always have to be kosher?

So there’s a timeline? But it has already been x-amount-of-days! Oh, excuse me, I didn’t realize that I’m not on your timetable. I didn’t realize that my grief had an expiration date. Don’t you know that one second without my daughter is an eternity? Don’t you know that until she’s in my arms, I will ache to hold her? Don’t rush me! Don’t patronize me!

You can’t handle my “thoughts”. The continual horrid movie playing, nonstop – unrelenting. My daughter wasting away, until she’s only skin and bones. My daughter vomiting her insides. My daughter looking at Mommie, asking for help. My daughter crying, saying she doesn’t want to die. AND, I, unable to grant her wish. That body bag! That casket! That deep hole!

My Reality! My Journey!

Just another day in the life of a grieving mother😢💔

Losses

Today you are having breakfast with your daughter,

while I eat alone with only memories of mine.

Today you will talk & pray & help your daughter with her wedding attire,

while that desire sharply stings in my empty arms.

Today you will kiss your daughter as you enter the sanctuary to witness her vows,

while I envy the sound of that voice.

Today will be a fairy-tale wedding with sights of flowing gown and veil,

while the sight of a white casket lingers in my eyes.

Yes, it is a joyful day – for you!

As I am sorely reminded and grieve what will never be – for me!