“They tell me it get easier with time,” my newly widowed
friend leaned toward me and whispered in a tone that told me he had his
doubts. Early on, I used to
measure my loss by days. Now after
ten years, I measure by years. It is easier with the passage of time, but it is
still not easy. Competitive in
nature, I thought that I would be the best griever. Acknowledging my sadness should have propelled me through
Kubler-Ross’ stages of grief, right? I went on long walks, looked through
photos, my siblings and I gather and shared stories. Stories that made us laugh until our sides ached and stories
that prompted us to pass the Kleenex box around. Intellectually, I reasoned that I could continue to have a
relationship with my mother and father, but that it would just be
different. Different in that I
would not physically see them, be able to embrace them. Adjustments always take time. How much time is enough time? When will my heart stop aching in
longing to hear my mother’s voice again or feel my father’s strong, smooth hand
in mine? How long will it take
before I fully accept?
4 comments:
Oh, Barbara. It has been almost 2 years since my dad passed and I wonder when I will stop reaching for the phone to tell him something funny I heard or to ask him if he wants to meet for lunch. I miss him as you miss your parents. Love, Emily
My dad passed away in 1974. As time passes, grief is not so all-consuming as it is at first. Yet even now, there will be something now and then that makes me think of him, think of all the in my life I would have like to have shared in person. That feeling is so bittersweet- bitter in how much I can miss him still, sweet in the love it stirs to remembrance.
It has been over 25 years since my dad passed away and a little over 4 since mom's passing. I still want my mom to sit next to me when I knit socks so that she can help me with the heel. But I also treasure the memories that I have. They are priceless!
I hear your pain and loss in your word. The need to scream about how unfair. All the things left unsaid.
I hear you. I see the tears. The rawness.
For me the first year was so hard. I should have talked with the hospice people. I couldn't though. It took another year before I started to get unstuck.
Now I still feel the loss but I'm working through it. Give yourself permission to feel the pain. Talk to someone.
Post a Comment