01 Jul grief is my new girlfriend
When I wake up, she is first on my mind. She joins me while I work. She fills the empty spaces with her chatter. When I leave and when I return, she accompanies me. When the sun sets, she holds my hand. When the clock approaches ‘that’ hour of each day, she reminds me. When bedtime comes, she follows me into my room and snuggles up next to me until I fall asleep. Sometimes, she leaves and lets me rest. But most nights, she wakes me, just to talk. You’d think she would wear herself out with all of the energy she pours into me… but no! She is tireless. And in the morning, she is right there, ready to spend the next day with me.
And so it goes.
We spend every waking moment together. She directs my every thought.
One day, I’ll end this friendship with Grief. I don’t really like her. I didn’t ask for this. She drains me. She is too much for me, and never gives me a minute of peace. Ever had a friend like that? You know… the one who crosses all of your boundaries, who takes and takes with nothing to give, who sucks the life right out of you and leaves you exhausted after every interaction? That’s my new BFF. She’s killing me, she’s relentless, and I think she’s enjoying herself.
I’ve received books on grief from quite a few people. Books that tell you how to mourn the loss of a loved one and books that cover the different stages of grief. I’ve read them, and truly appreciate these little gifts. I’ve also tapped into a few websites. I’ve signed up for a support group which seems weird but I’ll try anything if it could possibly help. I’ve looked into compassion ministries, researched help lines and support centers, signed up for ‘walks to remember’ – you name it, I’m on it. I’ve even liked a few new facebook pages and read stories from other parents who have ‘lost’ their child. I’ve received cards, scriptures, pictures (like the one below), and while I appreciate the intention…
Well, let me rephrase. Nothing helps, yet. I know something will. Life goes on. Wounds heal. I shared in my last blog entry how the mind and heart operate as opposing forces, right? So yeah… my mind knows it will get better, and I am eagerly looking for that day. I believe it will come. I lived 25 years before that baby made his appearance, and it is quite possible that I will have to live 25 years beyond the day he made his exit. Who knows?
(That reminds me of a time when Mase and I were arguing about something… nothing major, just a typical day in the life of a single mom and her independent, confident, stubborn son. We went back and forth for a while… Mason making it clear that I was the dumbest human being on the planet, while I insisted that I actually knew a thing or two about life. Haha! I remember saying, at the height of my frustration, “Dude! What do you think I did before you were born??? I LIVED! I was not sitting around for 25 years, picking my nose, waiting for YOU to show up and tell me what to do!” Funny memories like that pop into my head at the strangest of times.)
So, who knows? Who does? Tell me. I am dying to know. How long will I have to be here? How long will Grief grip my heart, and dominate my days? How long will my mind resent her, yet my heart cling to her? How many times will I tell her how much I miss him, how badly I want him back? How often will she and I go over the moments leading up to his death, replaying the conversations, reworking the details, trying to find the rewind or redo button? She is the only one who knows just how deeply I am affected, but I want to be rid of her. When will she leave??? Which book holds the answers to these questions?
Today marks four weeks.
I can’t help myself, I still count. I still hope I will wake up from this horrendous dream. I still ask God to give him back. Crazy, huh? I still wake up hoping it isn’t real and I still go to bed hoping I won’t wake up. Grief keeps me company. She is faithful and always near. She’ll tuck me in tonight, and together we’ll think of Mason and remember some pretty special days.