With the 8 month mark rapidly approaching, I'm finding out more in regards to grief and the people around the ones grieving.
I was recently told that I had been given numerous allowances and been shown great compassion but that it had to end. It was as if to say I was milking my grief and trying to gain something. In my world, compassion for others, regardless of their situation, never ends. It is human decency. But for grieving mothers that still cry at the smallest thing and have really bad days, compassion should apparently end at that 8 month mark.
People have moved on, their lives have continued as though nothing happened. Yet, I'm still here. I'm still here trying to figure out how to keep going without my daughter. Someone shared with me that grief isn't a phase or a choice. Trust me, I would not choose to live with this grief. If I could make it go away, I swear on all that is holy that I would.
I want nothing more than to have my life back. The one I had prior to August 30th. I want the life with Catherine. I want the life where we were happy. I want the life that included Catherine's future. I don't want this life where I'm trying to figure out how to live with this massive hole in my heart.
A few weeks ago I looked at my husband and told him quite honestly that I wasn't sure if I was going to survive this. It is all consuming and painful and there is no reprieve. I get why Debbie Reynolds died immediately after Carrie Fisher died. I understand why our former president is in the hospital in intensive care days after his wife, the absolute love of his life, passed away. I truly believe that one can die of a broken heart.
One of my other fears is that if I stop grieving and stop crying, people will forget about Catherine. Today Jen Hatmaker put a post on Facebook of her in a t-shirt that said "Fix it Jesus" and then listed things she wished Jesus could fix in her life. She invited her followers to do the same. I typically don't comment on her posts because there are so many people that do and I don't want to get lost in the mix. Something told me to comment. So I listed 3 things that I wished Jesus could fix in my life.
1. People that think that 8 months is enough time to grieve the loss of a child.
2. My broken heart.
3. People that drive slow in the passing lane.
One of my real life friends had commented on Jen's post as well and immediately replied to my comment. Other women began commenting and the last one made me cry. She said "There is no time limit on grief. What was your child's name? Feel free to tell us about your child if you want and we will listen. Your child is important." I continue to cry as I write this. A perfect stranger put the exact words and reassurance that I so desperately needed.
I do believe I will grieve the loss of my daughter until my final breath. The month of May is rapidly approaching and I'm terrified. Mother's Day without Catherine is going to be almost unbearable. She would always get the best gifts and cards. Last year she took me to get a pedicure. Catherine totally got the importance of Mother's Day and while I do have my sweet boys, they just don't get it like she did. My birthday and Catherine's birthday are in the month of May. Catherine was my greatest birthday present. For some reason, those three days in May are going to be the hardest for me. I'm terrified. And even worse, I'm afraid that I'm not supposed to be because the compassion and allowances for grief have to end. It's been 8 months. Life goes on. Unfortunately, for me, life is starting over and I'm still figuring it out.
Grief sucks.
I was recently told that I had been given numerous allowances and been shown great compassion but that it had to end. It was as if to say I was milking my grief and trying to gain something. In my world, compassion for others, regardless of their situation, never ends. It is human decency. But for grieving mothers that still cry at the smallest thing and have really bad days, compassion should apparently end at that 8 month mark.
People have moved on, their lives have continued as though nothing happened. Yet, I'm still here. I'm still here trying to figure out how to keep going without my daughter. Someone shared with me that grief isn't a phase or a choice. Trust me, I would not choose to live with this grief. If I could make it go away, I swear on all that is holy that I would.
I want nothing more than to have my life back. The one I had prior to August 30th. I want the life with Catherine. I want the life where we were happy. I want the life that included Catherine's future. I don't want this life where I'm trying to figure out how to live with this massive hole in my heart.
A few weeks ago I looked at my husband and told him quite honestly that I wasn't sure if I was going to survive this. It is all consuming and painful and there is no reprieve. I get why Debbie Reynolds died immediately after Carrie Fisher died. I understand why our former president is in the hospital in intensive care days after his wife, the absolute love of his life, passed away. I truly believe that one can die of a broken heart.
One of my other fears is that if I stop grieving and stop crying, people will forget about Catherine. Today Jen Hatmaker put a post on Facebook of her in a t-shirt that said "Fix it Jesus" and then listed things she wished Jesus could fix in her life. She invited her followers to do the same. I typically don't comment on her posts because there are so many people that do and I don't want to get lost in the mix. Something told me to comment. So I listed 3 things that I wished Jesus could fix in my life.
1. People that think that 8 months is enough time to grieve the loss of a child.
2. My broken heart.
3. People that drive slow in the passing lane.
One of my real life friends had commented on Jen's post as well and immediately replied to my comment. Other women began commenting and the last one made me cry. She said "There is no time limit on grief. What was your child's name? Feel free to tell us about your child if you want and we will listen. Your child is important." I continue to cry as I write this. A perfect stranger put the exact words and reassurance that I so desperately needed.
I do believe I will grieve the loss of my daughter until my final breath. The month of May is rapidly approaching and I'm terrified. Mother's Day without Catherine is going to be almost unbearable. She would always get the best gifts and cards. Last year she took me to get a pedicure. Catherine totally got the importance of Mother's Day and while I do have my sweet boys, they just don't get it like she did. My birthday and Catherine's birthday are in the month of May. Catherine was my greatest birthday present. For some reason, those three days in May are going to be the hardest for me. I'm terrified. And even worse, I'm afraid that I'm not supposed to be because the compassion and allowances for grief have to end. It's been 8 months. Life goes on. Unfortunately, for me, life is starting over and I'm still figuring it out.
Grief sucks.
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