Sad. Achey. Sympathetic.
A dear lady, a 'dear heart' has passed in my hometown.
An echo of my father, a fellow ARMY buddy, has succumbed to cancer.
A sweet friend's sister.
An accident taking two cyclists.
Parents of my friends.
Babies too.
Parents of my friends.
Babies too.
It's hard to know what to say, other than the most unhelpful understatements.
This sucks.
I'm so gut-wrenchingly sorry.
And to think on some advice I've been given:
Don't be strong if you don't want to be.
Scream.
Shout.
Cry.
Really, ugly cry.
Throw things.
Or don't.
You might feel resentful of the fact that everyone's life is still churning on.
Or not.
Or not.
It's surprising, and can be a bit hurtful that the universe doesn't stop when your own personal sphere has been shattered.
People are going to say stupid things. I'm sorry.
Remember your loved one in the best way. Keep those memories in the forefront of your mind. Dismiss the way the funeral home puts on the terrible bright pink lipstick.
This is going to hurt. For a long time.
I'm so sorry.
I'm so sorry.
Ghosts will pop up, for every anniversary, every birthday. Every wedding. That's not always a bad thing. But it is a hard thing.
And if you need someone to come and sit by you and cry with you, I'm here.
If you need someone to not say anything at all, but fetch you hot tea, I'm here.
If you want to be alone, that's fine too.
Don't let anyone tell you how you're supposed to be feeling.
Don't be afraid to laugh too.
You're probably feeling it all.
Thank you, Kj, for this.
ReplyDeleteWe are all learning as decades roll by that Grief isn't a certain thing or a list or timetable of Shoulds.
All of the above and none of the above is my allotment. Losing Dad (2005) and Mom (she sailed in 2010), includes gentle waves that touch me in different ways -- out of the blue. All is good, and good can be hard. It is what it is. Yup.