The Grief Roller Coaster

One of the hardest things about grief is its unpredictable nature. 

Today I have felt every emotion: deep sadness, joy, numbness, and anger.  Although everyone likes to refer to Elizbeth Kubler Ross’s stages of grieving, they were meant for people dying, not for those left behind.  Grief is not linear, where you follow the steps, and then your suffering is complete, and you can get on with your life. Instead, grief is messy, overwhelming, and confusing.

The wound left in the wake of my mother’s death is tender to the touch.  I swing from crying in the car to enjoying the beautiful memories people have shared about my mom.  She touched so many lives.  I know she would be pleased with how many lives she positively affected and the kind words people wrote about her.  The joy then slips away into profound sadness that she’s gone. 

Sleep is the one balm that helps me walk through this challenging time.  I can escape from the reality of the situation for a while, but it comes roaring back the minute I wake up.

One helpful thing is talking with someone with whom I can share my feelings honestly.  My friend Nancy is one of the most compassionate and empathetic people I have been privileged to have as a friend for 30 years.  In the last year and a half, she has experienced several deaths, including her father and brother.  Sharing grief openly helps to validate what I’m going through because not everyone grieves the same.  When I talk with Nancy, I feel normal because she expresses the same emotions.  She’s a safe person to speak with.

I also contacted hospice today to set up a time to talk to a grief counselor.  Although my mom received hospice care in New York, I knew I could use their services as well.  Mike was not on hospice, but I immediately sought out their services because I knew I would need emotional support to deal with his sudden death.  I went to open groups and closed groups for people whose spouse/partner had died.  The latter group was beneficial.  I went to it twice, once in May and then in August.  The information and support I received made a considerable difference as issues came up with coping with the grief I carried from Mike’s death in the years that followed.

The wound will scab over with time and not be so tender, though it will always be there.  My experience has taught me that the scar will open again and again, but each time it will not be as painful and will heal sooner.