I’m not particularly fond of this time of year. The season marks the beginning of an onslaught of sadness during times that should be overflowing with joy.
Still…
a day at the beach
It’s been 10 years since Tom’s ashes were scattered here. The spot unfamiliar to me but very special to him as it was where his newborn’s ashes were scattered more than 20 years earlier. Believe it or not, this is the first time I have been back here. I just couldn’t manage to make it happen until now.
We couldn’t have asks for a lovelier day. DD just happened to be in from New York for his [birth] mom’s birthday. I cut the first rose of spring from the garden to toss out to sea as we did when we sent his ashes out. An offering, of sorts.
But the day wasn’t really about grieving. It fell into a day of just being us. We found a quiet spot off to the side near the overpass and threw the ball into water for the dog for a while. Then the boys played a game of baseball and mocked each other as brothers do.
And right before we left, we walked over to the ocean where I tossed the rose in and watched it get taken away. Today, unlike 10 years ago, the rose only had to be tossed once before it was off on it’s journey. I was a little sad to see it go so easily, but after a bit, I felt a teeny bit of peacefulness fill a little bit more of the empty space that was left in my heart the day he died.
This is us
Over the past couple of months, I’ve gotten hooked on a television show called This is Us. Described as “…a smart, modern drama that will challenge your everyday presumptions about the people you think you know”, I find the series intriguing for my own reasons. Besides the fact that it is just well done, the one thing that is unique in this show is that it shares the profound emotion of grief in a very in-your-face sort of way. Getting the viewers attached to the characters, then breaking the viewers hearts slowly and methodically as the season progresses — unveiling how long-lasting their pain from the long-past death is in spite of efforts to “get over it”, “bury it”, or just “move on”. Although I am sure that everyone’s take away of the show will be different, and that most will view this as nothing more than fiction (far from how one’s grief journey is in reality), it’s a starting point for a very important message. Moreover, it’s brilliantly done.
TheMAN and I began watching the show together but, as YaYa and I became hooked, we proceeded through the season without him. He began watching with his son at his house, while YaYa and I watched at ours. I was a bit relieved that it ended up this way for it allowed the show to pick away the scabs of my own experience — opening the way to heal some more of the stuff I had yet to work through.
The three main characters, referred to as the “Big Three” in the show appear to each have their own distinct version of stuck-ness (and sweet remembrance) from the death of their father, not to mention their unique upbringing. Similarly, I continue to observe the unique manifestation of pain in each of my sons as we hit the 10 year anniversary of Tom’s death. [Read more…]
…with each passing year
Yesterday, a woman at my work conveyed her concern (read: displeasure) for the manner a woman in her church was taking in the grieving process of the loss of her (12 year old) daughter. With the sudden death less than a year ago, the women’s FB wall is apparently plastered with posts as this women tries to move forward with her life. My colleague felt that this was okay in the initial period after the death — but perhaps not so much at this point in time. More specifically, her concern was in relation to the inequality of the posts for her surviving children. Her concernwhich I could not hold myself back from trying to minimize.
I attempted to point out that such social media posts never provide you with the whole picture. As I am sure many of you remember, I never shared the complete picture of my coping in the early days of my own grief journey; I shared an experience, or feeling, from the emotional soup of which I flailed about miserably in my attempt to stay afloat within. Perhaps the women is still sleeping with her youngest to help the child fall sleep, I suggested, insisting that there is no telling how this mother is with her other children in the privacy of their own home. I went as far as to say that perhaps her open display of grief was serving these children in a way no one else could appreciate; perhaps her example of letting her emotions out was serving as in invitation for her teenager to do the same with his peers.
Speaking from my own experience, I shared that grieving when you are taking care of your own grieving children is really tough. Early on, I learned that children need to process the loss in relation to where they are in their own development; they re-process the loss at every stage of development and it is important to support them as if the loss was brand new. I let her know about some great local programs for grieving children and parents of grieving children which might be a good resource to enhance the support that the church has been providing. I do believe that this type of support is critical. [Read more…]
Trying
I’m trying. I swear I am trying…
to hold myself together,
physically,
mentally,
spiritually.
I’m trying. I swear I am trying…
to find my center,
equanimity,
core strength,
balance.
I’m trying.
But my efforts are not producing any sort of result.
I look to my teacher,
my boss,
my loved ones
for some sort of validation that my efforts matter…
if only in a very small way.
But they just question why I verbalize uncertainty.
I sob a bit,
feel sorry for myself a bit,
and even question if I should just give up completely. [Read more…]