I Couldn’t Come Up With a Catchy Title, So Just Click & Read Please

As usual I found a link on my social media that inspired my own blog post.  The writer’s father passed away ten months ago, it was about her grief and her Judaism religion.  I skimmed it and thought, hum I suppose writing about my own stage of grief wouldn’t be so bad.

For those of you that don’t know, my Dad passed away eighteen months ago and my Mom six months ago.  1 year and a few days apart. Yep. Ouch. Not the good time I was hoping for.  So, here is where I am at if you care to know.

Dad grief.  I don’t think about him daily anymore, the ache comes and goes.   I get melancholy at times and the holidays without any parents made me sad.  It kinda pushed me over the edge so to speak I think.  But more on that another time. Dad is still missed, just a different level than used to be.

Mom grief. Deep breath. Here goes.

I just want her estate settled and her house sold.  It’s not that it’s been a horrible experience or that I’ve fought with my siblings, I just want it finished.  It doesn’t mean I didn’t love her or that I’m not grieving for her.

I can’t step foot into her house.  Not because she isn’t there, but because it’s changed.  I don’t like it. Period.  It may seem dumb but it’s true. I don’t like that her stuff isn’t all over and her furniture is gone and that I will never see her cereal bowl, Cheerios, sugar, and coffee cup setting out ever again for the next morning.  I just don’t like it.  That’s where I am in the grief area of Mom.

And perhaps this all has to go with the grief stuff too…….

I’m disappointed that I don’t get to spend a weekend with my siblings in May like planned.  I just miss what we had soon after Mom passed.  The connection and the love between all four of us.  The time together was priceless and precious all at the same time.   I’m happy it’s moved to  October but still that’s so far away.  They drive me nuts but they are entitled, they’re my siblings.  I love them all and they are the only connection I have to my parents.  The only real, authentic connection.  They carry the same DNA, the same memories, the same grief (just in different forms of course). Are you crying? Cause I’m crying at those last few lines, maybe it’s the grief though.

I had my mother for 44 years.  She died when she was 71 years old.  SEVENTY-ONE.  Seriously.  Why the hell didn’t she quit smoking and take better care of herself?  Then again, why don’t I put down the carbs and get my butt off the couch and take a measley walk?  She could ask me that, oh wait, no she can’t, she’s dead.   And still my sadness seems to be holding me down verses motivating me to live better.  Hopefully that will change in the near future.

This post is probably not what you expected or you may be sitting there thinking “oh she’s in that stage of grieving.”  Well. It is what it is. Another thing, I tell people Mom has been gone six months now and they are like “really, that long already?”  Seriously. SIX MONTHS IS NOT A LONG TIME!  Maybe if you’re pregnant but not when your parent has died. (Can I get an Amen on that one?  If you’ve lost a parent, you know what I’m say’n!   Six months is a drop in the bucket and you know what, I think my cousin said it best.  You don’t get used to it, you just learn to live with it and pray alot.  Yep. That’s it.

Now you have had a glimpse into the the area of grief I have within me.  I hope this post helps someone else feel they are not alone or that it’s okay to just move forward.  In some little bitty manner, move forward.  Don’t stay in the darkness, there’s sunlight out there friend!  There is sunlight!

Grace is a gift,

Julie