For a few reasons, I’ve taken a break from this blog for a while. I wrote a piece on parenting while grieving for the mom’s blog that I write with, so I think that also served as a kind of personal release for me. The blog was shared in a few other cities, and a few times on Twitter, so I was pretty happy about that. When I started writing, I was inspired by the blogs of other grieving people whose insights have helped me greatly within these last two years. I have wanted so much for my words to somehow help someone else with their own pain, and I hope that with the shares, maybe I have now had a greater chance to accomplish that. I’d be happy with even just one person.
I also wrote more in my journal, and those words are reserved only for my mom. Writing here helps me greatly, but I think the things I have needed to say lately, I’ve needed to tell her. My journal is where I have been doing that since she first got sick. I only have one page left in it, and I think I’m almost hesitant to finish. I know it doesn’t mean anything is ending, but when I started that journal, my mom was still alive. Anything after will be solely my reflections without her.
I have reread my journal many times, and for some twisted reason it is very therapeutic. Probably because it becomes completely impossible to hold back tears. I read the ups and downs we all went through, sometimes only hours or minutes apart, and it takes me right back to those endless days and weeks sitting in her ICU room(s.) It’s not always so bad to remember, because I did have hopeful times where things would be looking up. I get reminded too how much “preparation” we had at times. Not that anything really fully prepares you for someone you love to die. But the day she passed away, I wrote that it was clear to me that I was going to lose her. We had her for about eight more hours after I’d written it. The shock of an unexpected death has to be worse.
Lately I have missed my mom very much. Much more than usual. It’s so strange the way grief progresses. Even though I have been very heavyhearted for weeks, the other day I was absolutely overwhelmed by a memory , and how it only brought gratitude with it. That was all. It was an entirely new feeling for me. It was a bittersweet memory, but I was –totally unexpectedly– free of any sad tears at all. I was nothing but thankful to God that I had the times with my family when my mom was still here. I didn’t wish for the time back, I was just flat out thankful for it. Maybe that feeling won’t happen again for a while, but it made me feel really, sincerely, okay.
There have been times in the last month or so that I have thought to write, but stopped myself, because I was certain that the only thing that would come out of me would be melancholy. If I have any regret with this blog, it’s that I worry I come across at times as ungrateful. I am so grateful for so many things. I’m hoping that soon I will be able to share lessons from my grief that are more full of wisdom than they are sadness. I’m finally feeling like that’s possible.