Musings On Grief

Grief.

It’s an insidious beast. It lurks, quietly hiding in the depths of your consciousness, seemingly dormant, and then strikes out when you least expect it.

I don’t think anyone ever really knows how they will respond to loss, and the grief it spawns, until they are faced with it.

I know I didn’t.

I’ve suffered loss before. Grandparents…friends…an early miscarriage…an aunt…pets…I thought I understood how difficult it can be. Unfortunately, I was wrong. I never truly “got” the dark depths that grief can drag one to until I lost my mom unexpectedly in 2018.

When Mama first passed, I lived in a fog. I continued pushing through because my family needed me, but everything was automatic. Muscle memory, if you will, just going through the motions of each day. I would wake up after a restless night’s sleep, get my daughter ready for school, come home, work out, shower, and then sit drowning in huge, violent waves of grief. Every aspect of my life suddenly was divided into “Before” and “After,” “Then” and “Now.” I look back on photographs from that dark period and can easily recognize the mask that I was wearing, even if others can’t.

I remember lying in bed, wanting desperately to sleep, but not being able. Thinking to myself “I should text Mama…I know she’s awake…” before being hit once more with the realization that she would never be awake again. Stifling my sobs in my pillow so that I wouldn’t wake Hubs who still had to work. Eventually, exhausted, dropping into a dreamless void. Waking up, plastering on a smile and preparing LittleBit for her day. Wondering if I would ever be ok again. I remember the first day that I got in the car to pick LittleBit up from school and automatically reached out to my Sync screen to call her, like I did everyday, before breaking down in tears, frozen. I called Hubs, explaining what was wrong through broken sobs. He calmed me and told me that if I needed to, I could call him. Always.

I can’t say categorically that the first year was the worst, because again, in many ways it was like living in a fog. The “firsts” within that first year, however, were excruciating. My first birthday without her one week after she passed…spooky season…my daughter’s birthday…Thanksgiving…Christmas…each milestone rolled over me like a boulder. I wasn’t sure I would, but I survived. In the time since, the waves have gradually gotten smaller and less violent, but every now and then I still have the wind knocked out of me.

This time of year (from mid August through the holidays) is the hardest. It encompasses all of our birthdays and the anniversary of her death. Autumn was her favorite because she loved the change of season. She loved creepy, spooky things and she passed that love on to me. I can remember many a day curled up on the couch with popcorn, candy and a scary movie or three. Living without her…carrying on…it isn’t easy. I don’t think it will ever be easy…but it does get more manageable. At two years and one month since she left us, I can (mostly) think back on our shenanigans with a smile and not a tear. I can do the things we loved and feel like I’m honoring her. My life will never be the same, but it will still be good. I too have a daughter, and my goal is to be the same mom/best friend/confidant/partner in crime to her that my mom was to me.

I think I can handle it. I had the best example ever.

Have you suffered the loss of a parent, spouse or other important figure in your life? How did you cope? What has helped you to honor that person?