Tuesday, October 21, 2014

About Values

The most
I have
to find
out of
her death.



An important aspect of the redoing of my reality has been the emergence and subsequent living of my values. A lot of that clarity came out of my struggle to be seen as “nice” and to be liked. It was important for me to understand why I couldn’t be like everyone else. The journey has been lonely enough, but I also felt the added burden of rejection. I was having a lot of trouble relating to most people. For a long time I assumed it was because of my grief. It was quite a surprise when I began to realize I didn’t like them any better than they liked me. It turned out to be a clash of values. Again and again, the push back to me was that I was too harsh, or too blunt. Perhaps that is true, but it does not explain all the disagreements. What it does explain was my insistence on continuing to grieve, even this long after Sharon’s funeral. The choice to grieve reflects my value of growth over comfort.
Thirty years seemed, at the time, like a momentous milestone. I have no idea how many times I have cycled through the grieving process. It is never a one-time deal. It is never neat and tidy, nor in any particular order. The only two stages that have any order are the first (shock and denial) and the last (acceptance). The rest are a continual swirl (anger, bargaining, and depression), and often are an unarticulated reaction that doesn’t make sense to others. For example, every time I hear the song You Are My Sunshine,” I burst into tears and leave the room. That was a song I sang to Sharon often as she was growing up. My reaction makes no sense to anyone but me.

Sunday, October 5, 2014

Never Enough

For those
of us
who are
our grief,

Life has
can never

When you’ve lost a child there is no such thing as “enough”.
Not enough comfort
Not enough help
Not enough meds
Not enough answers
Not enough relief
Not enough recovery
Not enough peace
Not enough glue to put me back together again.

It’s like having an arm ripped out by the roots, all raw, jagged and bloody with unbearable pain.

And yet, and yet, over time like a balm applied to the wound the hemorrhaging stops, the jagged edges smooth some and the pain reduces to a manageable level.

This is accomplished by insisting on your grieving and never letting anyone tell you how or when to grieve.