People always tell you that grief takes time. When you lose someone, you are told that grief will come in waves. Some say that it will get easier.
And in some ways all of that is true.
But there are parts of grief that no one can prepare you for. Parts that are so deep that there may not be words to properly explain it.
No one and nothing can prepare you for what it feels like to live with and carry grief in your soul.
I know this because I have lost both of my parents. I am in my late 40s and I am an orphan.
I lost my daddy a little less than six years ago. I knew that his death was coming. Dementia had been slowly taking parts of him for awhile. He was still my daddy. The man who loved me and his family. There was no doubt that he still loved me. Loved us. But his memory was going and his health was affected by the health issues that come with Alzheimer’s.
With Alzheimer’s, you begin grieving before the person you love is gone. You grieve as you watch the pieces that made that person so special become blurred and disappear. You grieve as simple tasks become hard. You grieve as they fade before you.
So you start preparing yourself for what is coming you know.
The thing is, you can prepare your mind for what is coming all you want, but you and your heart are never truly ready for the moment when the person you loved so much is no longer here. .
We lost Mama about 1.5 years ago. Her death hit us like a ton of bricks. Because we did not see it Mama was literally here one day and gone the next.
There was no grieving before. No slow adjustment. No going through stages of grief, so you could come to a place where you could accept what is coming.
One day she was here.
And then she wasn’t.
I was a daddy’s girl. His death broke me. But mama’s death. It CRUSHED me. The unexpected affects you (or at least me) in ways I would have never imagined.
That kind of loss does something different to you. It leaves you trying to catch up to a reality that changed too quickly.
I still haven’t caught up.
It Often Feels Fresh
No one told me how FRESH death can feel long after the person you loved is gone. Even long after the loss.
I’m talking about waking up in tears and feeling like you cannot breathe fresh.
I still have SO many moments where I can hardly breathe from the hurt my heart holds.
There are many nights where I wake up in tears. So many mornings where I am on the verge of tears. Mornings where I push down my sadness, because I do not want my kids to carry the weight of my sorrow.
I am watching my children grow up without the love of my parents. My youngest learning to count and being so proud brings pain because I cannot share it with two people who would have been SO proud.
Watching my oldest in her choir brings tears to my eyes, because I should have been able to share the pictures and videos with my parents.
People talk about time as if it gently carries grief away from you.
But that hasn’t been my experience.
Time hasn’t taken grief away. The grief is something I am learning to live with, and it’s often just below the surface..
Memories come without warning. Smells bring back the memory of a home I will never again go to. Hearing my mom in how I talk to my kids at times. Moments when something happens and my first instinct is to pick up the phone and call and share. .(I have actually picked up the phone more than once because I forgot they were not there.)
When it hits you that they are not there, the weight is so very heavy.
Losing Both Parents
There is something about losing both parents that is difficult to explain until you are standing in it.
Your parents are the people who knew you from the very beginning.
They carry the earliest versions of your story. The parts of you that no one else witnessed in the same way. They remember things you have forgotten. They hold pieces of your life that only existed between you and them.
And when they are gone, something shifts quietly. Deeply
You now carry those memories forward.Those stories now live in you, and it is your job to carry these stories to the next generation.
I share with my kids all that I can remember. I remind them where they came from. They know my parents because I take this burden seriously.
You Simply Want Them Back
Some days, I simply want them back. I want to sit with them again and to hear their voices again.
I want just one more conversation. One more hug. One more day that we can sit quietly in the room together.
I honestly have no regrets about how I spent time with my parents.
I talked to them every single day. I spent every moment I possibly could with them. I NEVER left them or hung up the phone without saying the words, ‘I love you.’
I see so many people who have not talked to their parents for days and weeks. Whenever I can, I tell them my story and remind them that the time they have with their parents is finite. I encourage them to visit and take up the phone and call. .
I tell them to go to their parents and lock the memories of normal, everyday moments into their memories.
All of Our Journey
If I could wish for anything, it would be that no one ever had to experience this kind of loss.
But the truth is that most of us will feel this loss and carry this grief.
And that is why it is important that we speak openly and honestly about it.
Because when we do, the isolation softens, and we feel connected in our grief.
And maybe that is why it matters that we speak about it honestly.
It Does Not Leave. It Changes.
Grief does not leave. But it does change.
It has become part of how I move through the world.
It lives in the way I remember. In the way I speak. In the way I love the people who are still here.
And in a quiet way, it shapes the life I continue to build with those around me.
The love that brought me this grief is still there. It hasn’t gone anywhere. It has simply changed form.
