I had another post ready to go live today, but then I read an article about grief by John Pavlovitz earlier that really struck a chord. He spoke about how the day his father died he still had to go to the store and make sure his family had what they needed for breakfast the next day. I remember having to do the exact same thing the day my father died. My kids needed food for dinner and their lunches the next day. I wanted life to go as normally as possible for them.
So, there I was driving to Trader Joe’s in a daze, not actually really sure what the hell I was doing….but knowing it had to get done.
I remember looking at people walking down the street, and later in the store and thinking how crazy it was that life just keeps on going, and that this great man I called my father was now gone…but it only really mattered to those that were close to him. I wanted the world to stop and grieve with me for just a moment. I wanted to yell W.H. Auden’s poem, Funeral Blues, at the top of my lungs…..”Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,/ Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,/ Silence the planes and with muffled drum/ Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come….”
And yet that would not be possible. Life had to go on, and it had to go on immediately. There could be no falling apart. I had no choice but to stay upright and forge through the grief because of my kids, and thank God for that. I was only just navigating life as a single parent. There was no way I could allow that ship to sink.
I had to take care of my kids, wake up early to take them to school, make lunches, help with homework, make dinner, clean house….all of it. But when night would come and they would go to sleep, I would fall apart. I only had those few hours each day to do so. On the weekends when the kids went to their dad’s house and I was home alone with the dog I would yell angrily at the Universe for being so unfair, for taking away the only parent I had who believed in me, who told me how proud he was of me….and who loved my kids with such doting tenderness.
My kids and I could do no wrong in his eyes…..but his eyes wouldn’t open again to see us anymore. It was all over.
In his article, John points out that so many of us, even years later, are still walking around in mourning. I really needed to read that, because I have beat myself up for the past almost three years for not being stronger, and not “getting over it” with more grace. Reading his piece made me realize how completely not over it I am.
I still get incredibly sad. I still miss him so much. He used to tease my son about how tall he was getting….and if he could only see that that little boy now towers over me at 6’3″ feet …he would be so amazed. I think about little things like that a lot. I want him here for birthdays, and holidays, and I still randomly fight back tears when I’m at the store or driving through town. I want to hug every old man I see because I can’t hug my own old man anymore.
John Pavlovitz spoke about the importance of being kind to everyone you see because you don’t know who around you may be grieving. This is so important, and something even I need to remember when I am being impatient and rushing to get to my next daily destination. I remember bursting into tears at an intersection because I was so lost emotionally that I sat through a green light and the person behind me honked and yelled expletives at me. I just wanted to tell them to back off….my dad just died and my blood was running cold, and I didn’t know what to do.
Maybe I need to think twice before rolling my eyes at a distracted driver next time. Who knows what they are going through?
I also want to expand on what John wrote …..I think we need to, not only be kind to others, but be kind to ourselves when we are dealing with grief or any other form of trauma/stress. We can’t honestly always expect others to always know what we are dealing with, but we can and need to take the time to allow ourselves to feel the pain, to work through it, to take as long as we need. To be ok with not being ok. For as long as it takes.
I realized today that I’ve not been kind to myself at all since losing my dad. I’ve been really hard on myself and not truly allowed myself to accept the waves of grief when they’ve come crashing. I’ve pushed them away in order to appear stronger or more capable.
I’ve also dealt with other very emotionally trying situations the past couple of years that I poured myself completely into and which I think made it harder for me to grieve in a healthier way. I should’ve made more “selfish” choices, and taken care of my wants and needs better, but I didn’t. I needed an anchor and a safe haven, but I didn’t know where to look for them….and maybe some of us allow ourselves to deal with extraneous difficult situations because somehow they distract us from the grief.
Maybe we open ourselves to being hurt, because we’re already hurting so much. I don’t know….but what I do know is that I can’t keep feeling guilty for being sad, for still missing my dad, for not “getting over it” yet. I may never get over it. I’ve been strong enough, I’ve done enough, I’ve been enough of whatever I needed to be in the moment. And maybe that’s all I can do.
I’m not sure when those of us who’ve lost a loved one will feel like our feet are firmly planted on the ground again. I sometimes wonder if we’ll always feel like we’re treading water. Maybe no matter how much time has passed, we’ll still have moments in the most random of places when our eyes well up with tears. And maybe that’s ok.
The three year anniversary of my father’s death is on May 4th. I’ve been particularly sensitive and emotional for the past couple of weeks and now I realize that it is because that day is nearing at warp speed. I think your heart breaks a little on the anniversary of losing a loved one, and I don’t think that will ever change. Everything still feels so raw and unworked through.
What I do know is this….that my dad would not want me to feel as broken as I do and as I have felt. He always told me how proud he was for being such a strong woman. Maybe I need to keep showing him that I am…..by being kinder to myself now.
header photo by Jordan Sanchez @unsplash
