*Note: This may not be the most entertaining blog I've ever written. In fact, my next few may not be entertaining at all. Lately, I'm just not in the mood to even think of a humorous topic.
How do you continue blogging after such a life changing event? What do you even begin to write about when the last thirty days of vivid memories are being pushed into the deepest, darkest corners of your brain in an attempt to maintain some sense of normalcy?
All of the Hospice papers I continue to get in the mail say that I should feel numb right now. And in a few months I will begin to feel the pain associated with loss that will not even begin to subside until after the fourth month. Finally, after two years I will be able to create a more normal life pattern that will sculpt the more normal years to come.
While I appreciate all the helpful paperwork, I'm sick of the time lines. During the weeks that my family took care of my mom, we were given numerous, inaccurate time lines that did nothing but mess with our minds. And now, when I want nothing but to be sad in my own way, I get mail that maps out how I should feel for the next few years of my life.
Should I be grateful, for now, that my brain has me in a temporary state of denial? Should I dread the next few months when reality starts to sink in? What if it takes three or four months instead of the allotted two for that reality to hit? Because I now have this calendar, I anticipate what "should" happen and will probably be just as screwed up as I was when things don't go as planned.
I understand that these time lines are estimates. The pamphlet is not an exact science but if you were in my state of mind, and the state of mind that I'm sure my siblings and family are in, you'd grapple for anything - anything that makes some sense out of your life, anything that creates some semblance of normalcy. Anything like a mapped out plan of your emotional life.
6 comments:
Ask 20 people their experience and you will get 20 answers.
You must grieve in your own way on your own timeline and do not place any expectations on yourself.
Your momma is still with you babe...she is right there holding you and loving you like she always did.
The holidays are going to be tough, allow yourself to be a wreck. It is OK!!!! I am 6 years away from where you are now and I still cry every holiday/birthday, and I think about my mom EVERY DAY at least twice.
Thanks, SG. I'm sorry that you've had to go through this, but I appreciate your words of wisdom.
They say everybody grieves in their own way, on their own timeline -- and then they give you a suggested timeline. I know it's meant to be helpful, but it's still bizarre to read.
SG is right, though.
That is always so weird when the "helpful" thing to do is give people pamphlets with prescribed expectations on them. Whoever thought this was a helpful thing to do?
I agree with SG up there too.
A friend of mine lost her 20 year old son when he literally dropped dead of a brain aneurysm. We became friends 1 year after he died. She's shared with me a lot about the grieving that she, her husband and daughter all went through, along with Nathan's good friends. All of them looked different from each other and none of them followed that timeline.
Even as I continue to grieve my first baby that I lost there is no timeline.
I think what it's trying to communicate, though, is that you have permission to grieve and to feel a variety of emotions and that you're not crazy for feeling them.
I get quite angry at pamphlets and "helpers" like what you have described.
I also agree with SG on this. There ARE NO TIMELINES. You can read all the Kubler-Ross literature and every other so-called death expert and... it might help. And it might just make you feel even worse.
A woman I know who watched her husband die for a year was told by her own mother, who had lost her husband 20 years previous, that "you will never get over it."
I don't think these are harsh words, but incredibly comforting. You will never forget your mom. And you will be a huge source of comfort for your friends when they go through this, because you won't be telling them trite, ridiculous things.
I recently spoke with a woman in her 80 who had lost her mother as a teenager, and she started to tear up as she talked about her memories.
I am really sorry for your loss.
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