It’s been a week since my mother’s funeral, and honestly, these days are harder than the ones around that day. It seems like everyone around you stops to cater to you right after it happens. You have random visits, lots of phone calls, gifts, multiple text messages, donated food, and so much more. Thankfully, I knew that most of that was temporary and didn’t allow myself to get attached or used to the feeling. Now, the real feeling sets in.
All of the family is gone home. Your phone doesn’t ring as much. Those “how are you” texts are far and few between. It’s now just you and your immediate family minus one. And don’t get me wrong, I understand. Everyone has a life to get back to, and that’s okay, but that silence is loud. And now the world is awaiting your return to normal, even if you aren’t truly ready.
The show has to go on, right? I’ve already gotten the “When are you returning to work?” message, along with people wanting to make plans and whatever else. And trust me, I want to do all of these things. I am scrambling every day for a sense of normalcy, but grief has a mind of its own. The range of emotions that you feel is so vast. I can be super sad one minute, then laughing the next, then feel guilty for being so “happy,” then back to sad. I’ve even had moments of anger because of how everything happened. I try to make sure I allow myself to feel all of these emotions. I know that’s the only way to find your path to healing. And I’ve been cautious not to judge myself for the path I choose. Everyone is different and needs different things when they’re healing.
No one can prepare you for the impact of a loss of this magnitude. As someone who has had a counselor for many years and has faith in God, it helps with coping, but it doesn’t do anything about the level of pain. It is something you just have to walk with every day and try to rebuild your life around because it isn’t going anywhere. The void that my mother left cannot be filled. She was one of a kind. Learning to live and enjoy life without her here is proving to be a gigantic feat. However, I know she wouldn’t want me to give up, so I’ll press on. And my faith tells me there’s got to be a rainbow somewhere beyond these dark clouds. God is too good to leave me stranded in this valley.
“One day at a time” is what they say…
It’s been four years since I lost my mommy and I still struggle tremendously. It’s those days when just for a second I forget that she’s gone and then the gut wrenching reality hits me like a ton of bricks. I don’t think the pain ever goes away you just somehow learn to live with it I guess...
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I find it courageous that you are allowing yourself to feel however you are feeling. No amount of ignoring will make the pain go away and it shows how deep your ability to love is. I know you’re an incredibly loving person because you’re my best friend! love you so much, thanks for writing this!
Beautifully written, so heartfelt and so ,so true. Yes, in the beginning your flooded with calls, texts, cards , visits and then it does subside. I do know plenty are still praying for you and the family, I can’t wait to see you and hug you. The grief your going through has no timetable , at some point you will accept and cope with the grief in different ways, just always choose positive ways . I know you have a beautiful voice, sing to your mom, your a gifted writer , continue to write , just share your day with your mom, she is listening. My dad passed close to 10 years ago, the sadness still comes, not going…
You hit this dead on the head. If anyone got this, you do. You are one of the softest but strongest people I know. Im always here for you, even when I seen busy.