Category: Navigating Grief

Time…We Don’t Have As Much As We Think

A year ago today, I remember heading to help my cousin I watching her kids so that she could work. I packed up all my work items, my kids and their things and headed to her house that morning.

I didn’t sleep well which wasn’t anything new at the time. My Mom had been released from the hospital and she was now a whopping 5-10 minutes from me whereas before she was in a facility in another county 35 minutes away. I was sad that it took such a tragic event to get her moved but nonetheless I was happy to have her close.

I wasn’t able to see her like I could previously because of the COVID restrictions but I could visit her through the window and that was enough for me. To be able to lay eyes on her and ask her if she was ok and to have her confirm with a nod or smile and sometimes an eye roll. She had been telling me for the last few years that I act like I think I’m her Mother lol.

Her last hospital visit hit me hard. I was processing a lot by myself. I was handling a lot by myself. And while I’m grateful for my aunts and uncles, it was different not having my Brother by my side through it all.

Even with my uneasy feeling on this day, I still tried to function normally. It was extremely hard so I played with Benji, laughed with the kids and my cousin. Tried to eat and worked.

My phone rang and I stepped outside to take it. My heart sank so deep inside of me. The words this lady spoke to me hit me so hard. “I need you to get here as soon as possible. Your Mother is not doing well and we are expecting her to transition in the next 48 hours.” I wanted to yell but I was outside my cousins house. Still concerned about others I didn’t want to have her neighbors trying to figure out what’s wrong with the crazy lady outside and call the police. I paced her walkway. I called my Brother immediately. He has to come home. I let him know that I was going to Red Cross him because he was in the field training.

I felt sick, hurt, sad, angry…I didn’t want to scare my kids so I tried to keep cool. All I could do was silent cry. I told my cousin what was going on and I got my kids and things together and I left. I began to call my family. At this point I had forgotten all about work. My life was crumbling and there was no gorilla glue or magic tape to hold this shit together.

I always said if anything ever happened to my Mom surely I’d go crazy. Was this a test? Her accident that began this downward spiral was one thing. But this was different. It even felt different.

Now I know we are all here on borrowed time. But this was my Mother. My “originator”. The absolute center of my life. She’s the reason why I grind so hard! To make her proud and to be able to care for any and every need that she had or could imagine. The mere thought of not having my Mom here whether she was well or not disturbed me.

So many thoughts were flooding my mind. I couldn’t organize them. Some were just terrible. My positive talk was nowhere to be found. Guilt began to hit me again. Had I been on time before, the accident wouldn’t have happened and she would be ok and I would not be enduring this God awful pain.

The hospice nurse calls me while I was enroute to check in and give me tasks. I had to call the lawyer. I was trying to get my Brother home. Updating my family that is scattered all over and trying to still be a Mother to my own kids. I felt like a failure.

I thought back to when I got the news about my Dad. I remember looking at him and he just looked so sad. He looked like he had let us down. And although our relationship wasn’t the best. It still bothered me that this was the end of his life as I knew it. It hurt as well. But nowhere near as bad as how I was currently feeling. This was my Mom. I wasn’t a Daddy’s girl because I was my Father’s convenience child. His oldest. But he dealt with me when he wanted to. I was not a priority at all. Til this day, I remember hearing him say he didn’t ask for me to be here. He didn’t want me. And even though I knew this and never breath a word of it to him, in the last stages of his life I was there. Talking to the doctors. Handling his affairs and making end of life decisions on his behalf. Me. The convenience kid.

But now here I am facing this with my Mom. There’s no older child to help me through this. Just my little Brother. And while I have family they are very…rigid in their thinking. What they think is right, there are no other scenarios and they know everything about everything. They may have lost their Father. But I endured the lost of mine way before they experienced it. And now I was losing my Mom. I don’t think they truly had an idea of how I was feeling. The pressure I was under and how my mind was really getting the best of me. I didn’t need their dictatorship, negative talk or non valid opinions.

Speeding to get by her side. When I finally made it, for the first time since the pandemic began, I had to get tested. I could hear her now. “You not gone stick that shit up my nose. I don’t do cocaine and I’m not putting anything up my nostrils unnecessarily!” LOL. She was a character. I had to see her so at this point they could have gave me anthrax and I would have taken it just to get next to her.

I made it to her and I sucked up every bit of moisture I had trying to escape me before I walked into her room. This was my first time entering the new facility. The staff were exceptionally nice and maybe it was due to the nature of the situation but I felt as though it was genuine. I didn’t even take anything in with me. My phone was in my pocket and I immediately went to her side and grabbed her hand. Our normal greeting “Hey Best Friend” left my lips and she didn’t respond. My eyes started to sting and the tears I could no longer hold back. I squatted beside her bed and I laid my head next to her arm while I held her hand. I whispered softly “Mommie don’t leave me right now.”At this point I think I would of signed a contract sealed with my blood, given up an organ, anything to reverse what was happening. She opened her eyes. Still holding her hand I wiped my face because she would always tell me “dry your eyes, don’t cry my child.”

I sit and cry today. Feeling like there had to have been something I could have done to change the outcome of this. This pain that I have to live with is hard, unbearable at times. I feel so removed from reality. None of this feels real…because I don’t want to truly accept the idea that I’m a 37 year old parentless child. I lost the most important person in my life. And for the life of me I cannot get it together.

A Grieving Introvert

I’ve always known I was an introvert. But it wasn’t until I was an adult that I realized that I was a highly sensitive introvert. And with that came deep emotions. I tend to process all things, good or bad, internally and I like to take the time to wrap our mind around things before I can talk about them. Sadly this causes me to overthink, examining my situations from any and every angle. It also doesn’t help that I’m a strong empath, realizing and remembering daily that my soul has been wounded by the pain of losing my Mother. At almost a year, this pain resonates deeper than any other loss I have ever experienced in my entire life.

In moments like this; that I hope to never endure again, I need those close to me to be okay with me not being okay. I need them to allow me to live in the depth of my loss and grief and to not attempt to move me past it at the rate that they think I should move. To not assume that after such a devastating loss that I will bounce back to the person I once was. I lost a huge part of my life and to this day I still cannot process it at times. I’m sorry, but I am not the same…

In the present moment, I have gravitated towards the bubble that encapsulates my children and I. Home is my safe place. Nature makes me smile and sometimes cry but it helps me process my feelings. Eventually I believe that I will get to a place where I am able to start making forward movement. But until then, I just want those who truly love and care about me to allow me to fully feel the pain of my loss, show me love and respect through my process and be supportive.

Be Your Own Valentine

Many people probably are not aware that grief is the form that love takes when you mourn the loss of someone close to you. Associating the day with someone significant can spark powerful emotions.

Valentine’s Day in itself emphasizes love, romance and togetherness. When reminded that you no longer have that special person in your life, this day could feel like utter shit. It’s hard to escape the displays in stores, the signs in windows or along the road or even ads on the Internet.

As a person who has lost their Father, Mother, Grandfathers, Grandmother, children and many other special people, I feel as though the day is praised and emphasized entirely too much and for what. Especially for those of us who are mourning the loss of love from those who were once close.

If you’re struggling today, I invite you to try some of these tips below. Remember it’s ok to not be ok. And don’t let anyone tell you anything differently. You have a friend in grief here, so if you need support send me a message. I will be happy to chat and be a pillar of support during your hard times. No pressure.

There are NO Rules

Often times people feel pressured to act a certain way as it pertains to mourning. Give yourself grace on today. Grieve in anyway that suits you and don’t worry about what others may think. Despite societal pressures and norms, there is truly no right or wrong way to mourn the loss of someone. (And this is to include pets for my animal lovers…to me they are just as human as people)

Burn Some Lead

Journaling is one of my favorite things to do to relieve stress and to start my day on a positive note. Nothing makes me feel better and focused than using a No.2 all wood to get the thoughts out of my head and onto paper. This freeing process is exceptional at helping you to process and organize your thoughts. Now I know everyone is not into physical writing (pen/pencil to paper) but fret now, it is also productive if you feel compelled to type. Don’t go back and read what you write, and keep these journaled thoughts somewhere that only you can get to. This is not only therapuetic but also can aide you in your grief response.

Honor Your Love

Channel your thoughts and feelings in a positive light during the day. There are many ways to honor your loved one that doesn’t require spending a coin. You could donate blood, volunteer your time at a nursing home or local homeless shelter. Focus your attention on a way to honor your dearly departed loved one. This may turn into your new annual tradition.

Be Your Own Valentine

The heavy process of grief can be physically debilitating for some. As a bereaved person, you may suffer from insomnia, poor eating and lack of physical activity. While others feel the need to love on someone else, today practice some self-love. Pay attention to yourself. Do something that will make you feel better or even smile today.

Month 10

Happy Heavenly Birthday Mom. I will never stop celebrating the day you were blessed to create me.

This day on any other year was like a holiday. It was the day you and I spent time together doing whatever you liked. It was the day that I put together a little party for you with a cake that you never ate, gifts and attempted to bring together your favorite people under one roof. It’s the day I wanted you to feel celebrated, loved, honored and appreciated. No it’s not Mother’s Day…it’s your Birthday!

Today is hard for me for two reasons. One it’s your birthday and two it is the 10 month anniversary of your transition. I purposefully worked today, which is also something I don’t normally do on this day. And to top it off, I packed my scheduled as tight as I could to eliminate any free time to cry and waddle in sorrow. You never liked to see me cry. It always made you tear up and you’d tell me to stop or walk away from me if you couldn’t contain your tears. Well, my entire day fell apart. I guess the message that was being given to me was that I needed to “tend” to my feelings. All my meetings except two were cancelled, my trainings were rescheduled and I had a huge hole in my day. I had already been up way before my alarm went off, staring at the ceiling and crying, thinking of all the reasons why I’m grateful and then following them up with all the reasons why I felt like such shit.

I tried to steer clear of my phone as I knew the photo memories would pop up. But every time I looked at my clock display, pictures of us or you and the kids appeared. After a while, I decided to take a look at the Google notification that I swipe left almost everyday. I just wanted to hear you laugh or say my name. I stopped on a picture of me looking like I allowed the wind to style my hair for the day. There was a caption that said I was headed to spend the day with my favorite girl on her special day. This was your last birthday at home. I always picked up food, had a cake or cupcakes that you never ate and gifts. I could not forget the gifts. This year it was some weird “As Seen On TV” crap that you bugged me about as if Christmas hadn’t just come and gone. It’s crazy because I would hunt and find it just to see your face light up.

I stumbled on a picture of me, you and your only granddaughter. Generations in one picture. We all have that nose of yours lol. I smile. You looked like you had just cursed me out because I interrupted your game that you were playing on your tablet. But you were dressed up and sitting with your legs crossed like the lady you were. I felt this tug at my heart. My eyes immediately starting to fill with tears. Normally I’d try to stop it but today, I removed my glasses and I just let the tears fall. I miss you. I don’t know what to do today. And I feel so lost.

I watched past videos of your birthday parties. I laughed at the one where I put trick candles on your cake and you kept trying to blow them out. You were about to get pissed at me. Grandma was fussing because she did not want me to drop the candles on the floor and burn down the house lol. Matt was ill because I kept laughing when the candles wouldn’t go out lol. That was the best. I scrolled to the picture when I got you an outfit and your boots…lord you worried me so bad about them damn boots! The following year, you had on the entire outfit for your birthday and you didn’t want me to take a picture of you. I knew you hated pictures but they are all I have now so I’m glad I snapped them anyways.

I really do not know what I am doing here anymore. I truly have built the life that I have to take care of you, and then to care for your grandchildren. But you most of all because I wanted you to be proud of the child that you raised that beat all the odds. I did’t end up pregnant as a teen. I didn’t let not having my Father around push me down a path of destruction and drugs. I left the little town you raised me in and I made something of myself. I spent time in the military, went to college, got married, started a career, got a good job, had kids, helped raise my Brother and took care of you anyway I could. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be proud of me. Now that you’re gone, what do I do?

I’m struggling with this part of grief. Often isolating myself because I feel as though no one understands or cares. When I’m all alone with my thoughts, this is where I truly miss having you around. Without saying a word, you knew when I was upset. You knew when I was excited. When I was happy. When I had the sillies. You were always there to listen, give advice when you felt it was necessary and just be my best friend. I never had to remind you. It came naturally.

So i’m accepting it…losing my best friend is something that I will never get over. I have accepted that. But I refuse to stop celebrating you. The last thing I want is to one day forget your birthday just because you aren’t here. I gave you the best that I had while you were here. And I don’t know how to stop.


“SOMETIMES MEMORIES CREEP OUT OF MY EYES AND ROLL DOWN MY FACE.”

UNKNOWN

I hope you are having the best day ever even though it’s not here with us. I miss you and love you dearly and that will never change.

Triggered Grief

It’s pitch black and there are only a few cars on the road. Traveling east bound back home after a few hours out with the kids. I felt like they needed some fresh air and they requested to spend some of their holiday money.

Singing to some song I barely know the words to, in the distance ahead I see the lights of an ambulance waiting to merge onto the rural road. As I near the ambulance I see that they have made a complete stop and not actually attempting to pull onto the road from the residential driveway.

As a healthcare professional who has spent many years working in the hospital setting, mostly the emergency department, I said a silent prayer for the patient inside the ambulance as well as the family that is inside the home.

The closer we get to the ambulance, my heart begins to race and I just feel a sense of worry and anxiousness. I tried to shake this by turning up my radio and singing again. Suddenly I am just overwhelmed with these emotions to include sadness. A small voice tells me to look into my rear view mirror. I look up and I see that the ambulance is now a couple cars behind me with its lights on but far enough away that I don’t need to “make way”.

I continue to drive, still experiencing these intense emotions. While the marquee of a million thoughts and stories are scrolling through my mind, I’m startled by the blaring sound of a siren. I look up again in my rear view mirror to see the ambulance had not only turned on the sirens but has also picked up speed. I sped up a little as well and at the time I was unsure why. In hindsight 20/20, I was trying to get away from the ambulance. I was not even a mile from the road I needed to turn on to get home. I was racing to turn before the ambulance could reach me.

The children are asleep in the backseat and I am just a hot mess while driving. After assessing that I would not make it to the road before the ambulance approaches me, I decreased my speed and turned on my flashers. My plan was to pull off on the shoulder to allow the ambulance to pass me.

As I pulled off on the shoulder and come to a complete stop, the ambulance bolts pass me. Those intense feelings of worry, sadness and anxiousness get stronger and stronger. I look up to see the lights on in the back of the ambulance but nothing more as they were making their way to the emergency department.

As I sat on the shoulder with my flasher on, I recount the numerous occasions that I received calls about my Mom being rushed to the emergency department. My eyes began to fill with tears and they fell down my face. Soon I was ugly crying and I could not stop. I had to just sit and cry because I also couldn’t see well enough to drive. My eyes were burning, my nose was running and I was silently sobbing in the front seat trying not to awake my children. I wasn’t successful because my daughter awakes and asks if everything is ok. I lie and say yes. She can see the ambulance in the distance ahead. She asks again if everything is ok and I respond by saying I needed to pull over to let the ambulance pass. She understands and lays her head back down to sleep.

I never knew a place, a person, or a thing could trigger a grief response. (If that is even a thing) I was crying because I could not imagine how my Mom felt riding in the back of an ambulance with the sirens blaring and with emergency personnel all around her. She hated hospitals. Or should I say she was fearful. Strongest woman I know but she had her weaknesses. I begin to feel alone, sad and scared. At this point I just want to get home to my safe space.

I cried all the way home. And once I got home, I cried a little more. I miss her. And I realize that I will never stop missing her. I don’t see how this can or will ever get easier when reminiscing causes such intense and tearful moments. But for once I cried outside the tub (my safe space) and I allowed myself to feel every emotion. I didn’t try to bury it or dismiss it.

But the fact still remains that I miss her something terrible.

Month 9

The number of perfection…

It’s been a hell of a day. And to top it off, the week itself has been a complete bitch. It has been 9 months, 39 weeks, 274 days, 6,570 hours and 394,200 minutes since you left me on this God forsaken planet with these humans.

The anticipation of today as well as yesterday was far worse than the actual course of the day. I opted to exit the house today to avoid wallowing in bed and crying endlessly into my pillow, smelling like Christmas Day or Christmas Eve (I can’t keep up) and just being completely sad.

Today, I made the trip to the cemetery to check on the area in which you lay. I’m not sure why I do this. I promise I can always hear you saying, “I don’t know why you come here to cry and be sad. I am not here“. Our beliefs on the “life after” were similar. However today, I just needed some peace. And being in a desolate cemetery gave me that sense of peace. Nothing but stillness and silence except for when the wind blew. Sitting at your feet as always, with my hands in the Earth, stroking the grass as if it was your hair. Truly weird Mother…I know. But you know, you have pretty weird children lol.

After sitting with you in silence for a while I was certain the kids would enjoy a day out since I ditched our Annual Christmas Trip. No worries Mom, they will definitely reconvene next year. This year was a blip.

To get my mind on a different track, I attempted to do a little retail therapy which ended horribly. I ended up buying the kids each a toy. It is the day after Christmas…palm to face. I know what you’d say. I rode them around the base showing them where I use to live and how the one time you decided to come into the area, I could not get you to come on base with me. You were not interested in the Army life I was living. You were still pretty pissed that you signed the paperwork to allow me to join at the tender age of 17. I’m sure as time went on, you were glad that you did. And as a bonus, I influenced my younger Brother to join and with much trial and error, you were finally able to see your youngest child and only son off into the Army as well. All you wanted was for us to get away and do something with our life. Yet here I still reside. But I came back for you. Now I am beyond ready to relocate. The obstacles just keep appearing in my path, but I will try to not let it deter me.

I saw Brother for a brief moment today. I think he feels as though he owes me an excuse for not hanging around much while he is visiting but it’s fine. After all he is an adult. He spent time with family today, since I had no desire to do so. His appearance is for the both of us. You know like how I use to show up for you. Smh. We’d play rock, paper, scissors to see who would make an appearance lol. So I’m thankful he went. However, I am sorry if they badgered him with questions but I think he’s well equipped with how to answer. (If you want to know, call her and ask…) You taught him well Mother lol.

This month was no easier than the last. I had to remind myself a bunch of times that I didn’t need to get you a gift. These holidays are really fucked up. I have therapy this week so I’m sure this will be at the top of the list of topics to discuss. I feel emotionally exhausted, with waves of excessive thinking and just a serious case of grief overload. Tomorrow’s another day to try and move through the stages of grief feeling as though no one understands this pain, and my disinterest in wanting to explain it. Retreating to my bubble..

Christmas Without You

Although it is sad to reminisce
On Christmases we once knew,
This year I tried to celebrate
All in memory of you.
I attempted to put aside my sorrow
With every unshed tear,
And concentrated on all the time and love
We shared when you were here.
Our time together, though very short, taught me
What Christmas time is for,
And that's what I will always remember
Until we meet once more.

Month 8

There are no happy endings. Endings are the saddest part, so just give me a happy middle and a very happy start. -Shel Silverstein

It’s been 34 weeks, 243 days, 5840 hours, and 350400 minutes. My brother visited the cemetery today for the first time since the service. I wasn’t able to physically make it (because he got up super early and left me) but he FaceTime me and I was able to be with him indirectly and in spirit.

This is the first month that he’s been home around this time and it was helpful to have him to lean on as well as provide him with support too. Being away from home and trying to get through this has been really hard for him.

I tried to lift my spirits by decorating because Christmas (and birthdays) were our thing. We competed to see who would have the best decorated house. Not leaving a room undecorated for the holiday. Not sure what it is about Christmas but it made us feel happy.

This month has had its ups and downs. But i’ve tried to find the positive in everything. I don’t miss you any less. If anything I miss you more. Wishing that I was preparing a Thanksgiving plate for you to critique, falling asleep on your couch as you played with the kids before falling asleep yourself. You’re missed at all times and I hope you know it.

I’m still pushing forward because I can always hear you saying live your life because you only have this one. I miss you Mom and I hope even through the snot and tears that I am making you proud. It’s not easy and I know you hate for us to cry or get the least bit emotional over you, but you were truly my best friend. And life is a little hard to navigate without you. One day it will get easier but I definitely will never get to a place where I won’t think about you and cry. The next two months will be trying – Christmas and then your Birthday but I got this right? I know I probably don’t but I’m going to try.