Love&Loss
Where to begin.
Loss is something I fear so very deeply. I've lost so many treasured loved ones and each leaves a hole in my heart. I feel my breath catching as I think of them. It doesn't feel real most days. Certainly I can just give them a call and they will just pick up the phone, right? Surely I'm just imagining they are gone and they aren't REALLY gone.
But reality hits. Death is so final. SO final. We all know this. But our minds sort of trick us most of the time. It tries to protect us by just pushing those thoughts away but it's true. It is SO final. And that reality hits SO many times. It still hits me, many years later. My mind is trying to be kind to me but it isn't doing me many favors. When that reality hits several times a day, the pain comes rushing in all over again and tears sting my eyes.
It's exhausting. Loss is exhausting. It's so emotionally draining. All the tears. All the pain. all the grief. all the sadness. Then, momentary happiness. Remembering the good times. Celebrating life. Then back to sadness. Back to that hollow feeling and remembering just how final this is. When you lose one parent but have the other, you often chat about the sadness and happiness with the other. You have something in common. That pain is similar in you both. You can call each other and rely on the other to lift you up in those needed times. I understand that isn't the case for everyone. Maybe the other parent isn't as intuitive. Maybe that other parent isn't around. Maybe that other parent has shut down. But for me, as dysfunctional as we were sometimes, I at least had my other parent to comfort me when I lost my mom. I did quite a bit of comforting to him, as well. I tried to stay as positive as possible, knowing he lost an entire history when he lost her. He lost decades of memories and laughs. He lost an entire side of a family. Not entirely, but in a sense. He lost the person who cared deeply for him for so many years. He lost the person who took care of everything for him. Leaving him with an absolute loss. Probably a loss of self, a loss of identity. I don't know how he went on and I will always feel a bit guilty for not trying to do more for him in his time of loss.
Fast forward a few years and here we are. Here I am. An orphan. My mom and dad are both gone now and I have no one to talk about this with. And I don't mean truly no one. I have an amazing spouse, siblings, family, and the most supportive friends who are willing to listen whenever I am willing to open up. But I no longer have that piece that held me together when experiencing the loss of my mom. He is gone now. He is not here now to talk with me through this pain. He isn't here now to muster up some laughs that cure a little crack in the heart momentarily. He isn't here now to share my joys and triumphs with. He wont be there for my kids and their milestones. He wont be there when Vayzen learns to read. He wont be there when Vera does her book reading at the local library. I know he was so proud of her published book but now he wont be able to hear how this event goes. He wont be there when Acadia starts saying funny things like her big siblings. He wont be there for their graduations or weddings. I knew my mom wouldn't be there.... but it's a huge pill to swallow to know that now neither of them will be.
Life is so wild. SO short and death is so final. So many what ifs, so many tears, so much joy but also pain in the same breath. Writing is my way of working through these feelings. Writing and painting. And talking. And teaching. All the things. I plan on writing a lot more. I have so much to say but my brain is too scattered to dive too deep.
Love and Loss. Something I am so passionate about now. I pray that my pain can be used to help others through this type of thing.
Loss is something I fear so very deeply. I've lost so many treasured loved ones and each leaves a hole in my heart. I feel my breath catching as I think of them. It doesn't feel real most days. Certainly I can just give them a call and they will just pick up the phone, right? Surely I'm just imagining they are gone and they aren't REALLY gone.
But reality hits. Death is so final. SO final. We all know this. But our minds sort of trick us most of the time. It tries to protect us by just pushing those thoughts away but it's true. It is SO final. And that reality hits SO many times. It still hits me, many years later. My mind is trying to be kind to me but it isn't doing me many favors. When that reality hits several times a day, the pain comes rushing in all over again and tears sting my eyes.
It's exhausting. Loss is exhausting. It's so emotionally draining. All the tears. All the pain. all the grief. all the sadness. Then, momentary happiness. Remembering the good times. Celebrating life. Then back to sadness. Back to that hollow feeling and remembering just how final this is. When you lose one parent but have the other, you often chat about the sadness and happiness with the other. You have something in common. That pain is similar in you both. You can call each other and rely on the other to lift you up in those needed times. I understand that isn't the case for everyone. Maybe the other parent isn't as intuitive. Maybe that other parent isn't around. Maybe that other parent has shut down. But for me, as dysfunctional as we were sometimes, I at least had my other parent to comfort me when I lost my mom. I did quite a bit of comforting to him, as well. I tried to stay as positive as possible, knowing he lost an entire history when he lost her. He lost decades of memories and laughs. He lost an entire side of a family. Not entirely, but in a sense. He lost the person who cared deeply for him for so many years. He lost the person who took care of everything for him. Leaving him with an absolute loss. Probably a loss of self, a loss of identity. I don't know how he went on and I will always feel a bit guilty for not trying to do more for him in his time of loss.
Fast forward a few years and here we are. Here I am. An orphan. My mom and dad are both gone now and I have no one to talk about this with. And I don't mean truly no one. I have an amazing spouse, siblings, family, and the most supportive friends who are willing to listen whenever I am willing to open up. But I no longer have that piece that held me together when experiencing the loss of my mom. He is gone now. He is not here now to talk with me through this pain. He isn't here now to muster up some laughs that cure a little crack in the heart momentarily. He isn't here now to share my joys and triumphs with. He wont be there for my kids and their milestones. He wont be there when Vayzen learns to read. He wont be there when Vera does her book reading at the local library. I know he was so proud of her published book but now he wont be able to hear how this event goes. He wont be there when Acadia starts saying funny things like her big siblings. He wont be there for their graduations or weddings. I knew my mom wouldn't be there.... but it's a huge pill to swallow to know that now neither of them will be.
Life is so wild. SO short and death is so final. So many what ifs, so many tears, so much joy but also pain in the same breath. Writing is my way of working through these feelings. Writing and painting. And talking. And teaching. All the things. I plan on writing a lot more. I have so much to say but my brain is too scattered to dive too deep.
Love and Loss. Something I am so passionate about now. I pray that my pain can be used to help others through this type of thing.
Keep talking, typing.. whatever it takes to feel the feelings and get them out! We all love you very much, and although none of us can heal your pain, we will all do whatever you need to feel comfort and loved while you heal :)
ReplyDeleteBeautiful response. Thank you so much! I have the most amazing army behind me at all times.
Delete