A new unanticipated and unwelcome anniversary

Hard to believe it’s been a month.  Four weeks ago to the date she breathed her last conscious breath.  Four days later she died.

My mind feels cloudy, my body, heavy.  Like I’m a candle slowly melting.  It’s not an entirely unpleasant feeling.  There is a sense of relief in letting go.  Not so much a letting go of my mother, I expect that will take a long while if at all, but accepting who I am in this moment.  Accepting that my life has changed, I’ve changed, my family’s changed.  How I exist in the world is no longer the same.  Twenty-nine days ago I was a different person.  Twenty-nine days ago my life changed forever.

I know a sense of normalcy will eventually surface but from what I hear it will be a new “normal”.  And that makes sense to me.  I don’t feel a sense of hopelessness but an anxious anticipation of what is ahead.  The grief journey is new to me.  I don’t know what to expect or how I will “best” get through this. Something tells me that perhaps it would be best to accept that I don’t know.  What I do know is I need to take it day by day, moment by moment.  And be kind to myself; kind to others.  Comfort myself, let myself be comforted by others.  The road ahead seems dark, but I have to believe this too shall pass.

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4 thoughts on “A new unanticipated and unwelcome anniversary

  1. I don’t really know how I got through it to be honest. Maybe I didn’t and I still feel the same as when I was 14. I wish I’d talked more openly about it back then, maybe it would have helped somehow but whenever someone asked if I wanted to talk about it I just clammed up. I remember feeling like I had a hole in my heart, and I still get that feeling every now and again. For me it was an event, amongst others that were all happening at the same time, that lead me to question if the pain will ever go away? Would things get better? It’s a question I keep asking, even today. Things in my life keep changing and all I want is to be able to settle and build a life instead of adjusting to whatever life does to me. What I needed back then was to feel the love of friends, which were few. You have good friends. I hate to use the word hope, so I’ll say I ‘wish’ your pain will subside soon. I’m on Skype virtually every day now so feel free to ping me.

    • Many thanks Mike for the kind words. You were so young when she passed and I’m sure didn’t have the emotional maturity to know how to talk about it. (not that I’m emotionally mature now!). From what I hear, it never goes away which is both comforting and hard. How could it completely go away though? It’s the person who gave birth to us.

  2. Tomorrow will be 4 months since my mom passed. For me writing about it has helped. I’m not sure anyone can understand the loss of a parent. For me I lost her to alcoholism when I was young and then again to death. It’s like I’m grieving two separate things. I guess deep down I always thought the loss to alcohol would be temporary. I thought I’d get my mother back, now I know I never will. Keep writing. You’ll find your way

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