Hello, everyone. I thought I’d touch base,say hi, see how you’re all doing.
Yesterday was the three-month anniversary of Mom’s death. Grief is like the ocean, rising and falling, and the one grieving is like the beach, taking what comes. Massive rollers or easy ripples, it ends up being all the same.
Mostly, I’m doing okay. Last week was bad, for no reason I can discern. She was everywhere, in everything I did, everything I looked at. So many memories, some of painful, others indescribably sweet. Both kinds sweep the legs right out from under me.
Last month, I attended an Alzheimer’s support group meeting, just to let them know that Mom had passed, to talk about grief and all that comes with it. Another member had also lost her mother, so we commiserated. She is in a very difficult place, much worse than mine, and I wish her peace and healing. She said she wouldn’t be back, that it’s too soon. And, in truth, she may need a different sort of group now. I thought I might keep attending, both to process what’s occurred and to offer any helpful insight I might, but it’s too soon for me, too. I need a break. Part of my brain says I’m being selfish, but I’ve sense enough to tell that stupid inner voice to shut the hell up. I’ve earned some “me” time. Besides, there’s a new group member who is really caustic, very brittle, having an extremely difficult time dealing with her mother’s illness. She’s so raw that it’s almost physically painful for the rest of us to be in the room with her. I feel for her, but she needs more help than I can offer. I hope she gets it.
I’ve discovered–and this’ll undoubtedly sound strange–that I’m grateful for my grief. There was a time in my life when I thought I’d never mourn my mother at all. We went through a difficult period and I really believed that I wouldn’t care, that I would in fact feel relief when she passed. I cannot express how grateful I am that we found each other again, spoke of our hurts, made our apologies, and received forgiveness in return. The measure of peace I feel from that experience is not to be believed. I regained my love for my mother and that’s something I can hold to my heart for the rest of my days.