Grief is dark and the emotions it holds are all twisted up.
Grief reminds me of how metal chains become knotted and stuck. After some work, the chain is smooth again, however, another knot will bring the agony of having to undo it and deal with it.
But how does one deal with grief? I have wondered the past few weeks why there is no preparation for grief. No tools at the ready, no armor. No words to the wise.
It strikes when you’re most vulnerable. It exposes all the hurt.
June’s death wouldn’t hit me until a week after her funeral, my friend Lee told me. A bit of intel I was grateful for.
And it hit me alright, like a ton of bricks.
I went for days crying uncontrollably. I’d manage to get myself to stop here and there. I’d go to bed crying, I’d wake up crying. It was exhausting. Many of you reading this know these patterns oh too well.
But then it stopped. All of a sudden, the tears ceased to exist. Had my tear factory run dry?
For two weeks there was nothing. I was seemingly happy, feeling “back to normal”. I even considered if there was something wrong with me – if I wasn’t grieving the right way…is there a right way?
I don’t think there is.
Then last Friday happened. Just when I thought my tears had run dry, the Tsunami of Lauren was triggered by the emotional vibrations within me. Like my very own little earthquake.
I didn’t even see it coming.
The tears began to pour out of my eyes, there is no controlling them. They’re in charge. As I laid in bed crying, I realized this is the saddest I have ever been in my 36 years of life. I don’t think I’ve ever cried this way before. In fact, I know I haven’t. The sad that I feel is immeasurable and at times, exceptionally confusing.
Nothing, in particular, queued this next wave – it just happened. That is the part about grieving that I don’t quite understand.
You just have to go with the flow, my friend Lee told me.
And that’s what I’m going to do. I’m certain it’s the worst part of life, but it’s what being human is. There is definitely no avoiding it, so go with the flow I must.
And again, the tears have run dry.
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What Losing My Mom Has Taught Me
We all grieve in different ways and I have found that praying helps me. I recently talked with a pastor that received the calling of Christ. He told me that by giving all the love you have for the dearly departed to Him, knowing that He will love your loved one and take care of them in Heaven, that will help in the grieving process. I’m trying that and found that it helps but I will always keep my memories of Angelo alive by sharing favorite stories of him. Hope this helps.
I love your Blog. And again, I’m so sorry for the loss of your mother.
Brings back memories of moving to Colorado a little over a year after my dad died… I thought I was good – my tear factory had run dry (love that, btw). But NOPE. I’d be sitting in my car, a song would come on that reminded me of him and BAM. Flash flood. Couldn’t stop. Super awkward heading to a meeting with a new account. I remember a friend finally asking me about my dad because I never mentioned him when I talked about my mom. It’s so hard. And it will be for awhile. But it does get better. I think about him often, and very rarely are there tears at this point… So much love for all of you. You’ll find the other side of this.
Thank you for sharing this, Lauren. You are helping so many others feel less alone. Sending love to you, hoping you feel peace and comfort with each day. Or get through your days as best you can, and feel all of your mama’s love radiating through you.