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Thursday, July 25, 2013

In support of grief --one year down

I read this and found it eloquently spoke of the true nature of grief.

To everyone else, the death of that being you loved for his own sake, or her own sake, is an event that occurs on a certain day. For you the death only begins that day. It is not an event: it is only the first moment in a process that lives in you, springing up into the present, engulfing you years, decades, later as though it were the first moment again

I am going to continue to work through my loss but it will always be there. I can only help that it has made me more compassionate and to value people: especially the little ones whose lives I am the role model for.

I guess it is trying for normality that allows one to move forward. A tiny clip of time here or there when great pain receded for a bit. It is found in a child's laughter, a purring kitten, the fresh smell of line hung sheets, a wood stove that needs to be stoked it is in h these simple motions, I can find acceptance. I don't cry nearly as much, I blame noting on her that is going on my relationships-- I cannot be all things to all people but I can give it my best attempt. I have rethought everything though and that is painful. I cry. I cry, I CRY. . I research everything and understand the process at work. I repeatedly experience the first moment: "Heidi. Holly's GONE" but not nearly as often. Her headstone:

Daddy goes to the cemetary each Sunday after church, with his coffee, I wonder what they talk about. Could things have been different? I wonder..... He will never tell and I will never ask. This grief is an invisible cloak we wear at times. Some times I take it off but most of often it is resting on my shoulders rather than covering my whole being. The hood is off.

This is the start of healing, always remembering it will always be the first moment.

To Holly:
This is probably the last picture of you while you had breath. I wish I could see more into your eyes. The smile did not reach there:

Here is where I am supposed to relate when I want to figure out truly why. Was it really mental illness, undiagnosed, biological exacerbated by alcohol? More than 80 percent of suicides are due to misdiagnosed mental illness. Then I look at my genetic progeny and wonder if it will be any of them that I lose to this disease.

But here we are at the last step.
Finding acceptance may be just having more good days than bad ones. As we begin to live again and enjoy our life, we often feel that in doing so, we are betraying our loved one. We can never replace what has been lost, but we can make new connections, new meaningful relationships, new inter-dependencies. Instead of denying our feelings, we listen to our needs; we move, we change, we grow, we evolve. We may start to reach out to others and become involved in their lives. We invest in our friendships and in our relationship with ourselves. We begin to live again, but we cannot do so until we have given grief its time.