I can’t “be ok” today. It’s not happening. Grief is bubbling out of me like a fountain today and I cannot fight it. It needs to flow. The reality that both my parents are gone is just overwhelming me. The reality and the pain. The heartbreak. It sucks. My dad died on April 12. I have a copy of his death certificate. I want to shred it into a million pieces and light it on fire. I have my moms, too. I have to have them, because we have to get estate matters settled and there are important grownupish things to do with them.
But it’s proof that my parents are not alive anymore and it hurts and I am so sad. Sometimes I am doing ok. Today- no. I had some errands to do and drove past where Dad lived for the past few years. That’s what started this. Sometimes, grief comes in the form of memories, leaking out of my eyes. Today, it’s like a freaking tsunami tidal wave and it’s making me gasp for air.
I’m trying so hard to keep *it* together, because I don’t know what else I’m supposed to try to do. But it’s hard, and days like today I’d like to curl up in a ball and hide under the covers. All summer, the kids were with me full time and we were really busy remodeling our kitchen, so it was busy, busy busy and no time to stop and think, or be with my grief. Or even with myself.
Summer vacation is over now, and the kids are at school. I have a lot more time alone with myself, and I’m not sure how this reality is going to be. Things happen and I want to tell my parents and I can’t. I want to ask their advice. Or just make them laugh. I can’t. I hate that. It’s a cruel trick for that millisecond when your mind almost lets you forget that your loved one is gone and you can speak with them.
I’m trying so very hard to be so thankful that I had 35 years with my mama, who I loved so much and who was the best mom she was able to be for me. And to be thankful that I had my dad, who raised me as his very own girl, even when I deserved anything BUT that, for almost all of my days on this earth…until a few months ago. I am thankful for those times, those years, and those memories. They’ve helped shape me, for sure, and I wouldn’t be anything had they not been my parents. I am thankful beyond words or emotion that my daddy is free from the Alzheimer’s that robbed him of his own memories, his mind, his memories, his voice..and eventually, his life. I’m thankful that he’s with my mom, and she’s finally free from the addiction to nicotine. I believe in my heart of hearts that they are again together, free of illness, and sailing, swimming and enjoying their golden years in paradise…
I really, truly am.
But I’m sad, and I’m hurting. My kids don’t have a single memory of my parents that doesn’t involve oxygen tanks or nursing homes. They won’t ever know how their grama’s voice got funny sounding when someone was taking her picture and she wasn’t pleased that she couldn’t stop it but would try anyway. They’ll not know how hard it was to raise their own mama, and how seeing me not screw up as much as an adult was probably a huge relief and cause for celebration for their grandparents. They won’t know what it’s like to spend four days of constant rain on Diamond Island playing eleventy million rounds of Pacheesi, or for their grama to knit them one of her famous sweaters.
It’s not fair. It’s just not. I should be ordering tickets to travel someplace with my parents AND my kids, not ordering urns to give my dad a final resting place.
I’m kind of thinking not much of this makes sense. And that’s ok with me. Grief doesn’t really make a lot of sense. Today, it’s too much for me to handle. Tomorrow might be better. But maybe someone else is feeling like something is wrong because they, too, aren’t feeling like they are ok today. I just wanted you to know that most of what you feel with grief is probably normal, and yes someone else is probably going through it.
And now I’m going to go cry for a little while longer, and find a way to pull myself together so I can be a functioning mama when my kids come off their school bus.