Everyone experiences "loss" differently. Plus, there are different kinds of "losses." The first that comes to mind is the loss of a loved one.
In my case, I recently "lost" my mom. Losing a parent is heartbreaking and wrenching. I first experienced it almost 40 years ago when I lost my dad. At the time I was totally overwhelmed with grief and uncertainty and disbelief! How could this be happening? What will happen now? How will I ever get through these drowning waves of grief?
This time around it's the same, yet different. The waves of grief hit me a little later and they weren't as overwhelming, yet they still brought on a similar paralysis - I felt as if I were wading through deep water. It was taking much longer to do things now - what normally took me 15 minutes, took at least twice that those next few days. My heart and mind were not totally engaged in my task, I was off in some other place, off in my memories.
Memories - there's another deep subject, but just to briefly touch on it - they can be comforting, yet terribly sad when that person is not there to share the memory of it with you any longer. Eventually, those memories may bring more smiles than tears. Then, I know I'll be ok.
But you know, it doesn't take much for me tear up thinking of my dad - and it's been 40 years. I often wish I could talk with him and get his advice. I didn't know the resource I had in him at the time - I was just newly married and wanted to do things my own way. But over the years I've found that I'm much like him (I'll just focus on the positives here!) He was creative, ready to help, took pride in his work, dependable.
The recent loss of my mom is a little harder to talk about. While it wasn't a shock like my dad's death was, I knew it would come one day soon and that caused grief even before it happened. I grieved over the past few years when her memory faltered and we couldn't always enjoy our talks as we used to. Rather than always wishing her to be here eventually switched to wanting her to be comfortable and content. (OK, time to blow my nose!)
The cliche that death is a part of life is true, but it doesn't make it any easier. Yet it does help to know you aren't alone in it. We each grieve in our own way. Some need solitude to process things and get through the pain. But, sometimes the last thing we want is quiet where we are left to our memories as they are just too painful to deal with alone. Then, the company of others and lots of hugs, tears and boisterous memory-telling is healing! You do what you must to make it through.
For me, staying busy and focused on other things helps calm those waves of grief. I made a "grief" roller and applied it every time I thought of it. (I'll share the recipe if you message me.) One thing I do know, knowing that others know you are hurting actually helps, whether it's a card, flowers, a text, a call. Messaging a good friend who is always ready to listen continues to get me through this time. When others are silent, it adds to my sadness. (Maybe they don't know? Did anyone tell them?)
There's a lesson here - when others are grieving, what do I do? Just acknowledging their loss can help. Often there may be more I can do, but just knowing they know that I know matters.
I'll leave it at that.
In my case, I recently "lost" my mom. Losing a parent is heartbreaking and wrenching. I first experienced it almost 40 years ago when I lost my dad. At the time I was totally overwhelmed with grief and uncertainty and disbelief! How could this be happening? What will happen now? How will I ever get through these drowning waves of grief?
This time around it's the same, yet different. The waves of grief hit me a little later and they weren't as overwhelming, yet they still brought on a similar paralysis - I felt as if I were wading through deep water. It was taking much longer to do things now - what normally took me 15 minutes, took at least twice that those next few days. My heart and mind were not totally engaged in my task, I was off in some other place, off in my memories.
Memories - there's another deep subject, but just to briefly touch on it - they can be comforting, yet terribly sad when that person is not there to share the memory of it with you any longer. Eventually, those memories may bring more smiles than tears. Then, I know I'll be ok.
But you know, it doesn't take much for me tear up thinking of my dad - and it's been 40 years. I often wish I could talk with him and get his advice. I didn't know the resource I had in him at the time - I was just newly married and wanted to do things my own way. But over the years I've found that I'm much like him (I'll just focus on the positives here!) He was creative, ready to help, took pride in his work, dependable.
The recent loss of my mom is a little harder to talk about. While it wasn't a shock like my dad's death was, I knew it would come one day soon and that caused grief even before it happened. I grieved over the past few years when her memory faltered and we couldn't always enjoy our talks as we used to. Rather than always wishing her to be here eventually switched to wanting her to be comfortable and content. (OK, time to blow my nose!)
The cliche that death is a part of life is true, but it doesn't make it any easier. Yet it does help to know you aren't alone in it. We each grieve in our own way. Some need solitude to process things and get through the pain. But, sometimes the last thing we want is quiet where we are left to our memories as they are just too painful to deal with alone. Then, the company of others and lots of hugs, tears and boisterous memory-telling is healing! You do what you must to make it through.
For me, staying busy and focused on other things helps calm those waves of grief. I made a "grief" roller and applied it every time I thought of it. (I'll share the recipe if you message me.) One thing I do know, knowing that others know you are hurting actually helps, whether it's a card, flowers, a text, a call. Messaging a good friend who is always ready to listen continues to get me through this time. When others are silent, it adds to my sadness. (Maybe they don't know? Did anyone tell them?)
There's a lesson here - when others are grieving, what do I do? Just acknowledging their loss can help. Often there may be more I can do, but just knowing they know that I know matters.
I'll leave it at that.
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