I had thought all the grieving had been done and the healing and restoring could happen. I thought that I had grieved through the past twelve months, watching my mother slowly decline and continue to fight to stay with us. I had thought that there would be a sense of relief to no longer watch her suffer, knowing there was nothing else to do. That the weight of the constant travel, the waiting for the call, the knowing the final good-bye was near. I thought there was no emotion left to give but I was mistaken. I was in constant panic, fear, worry, sadness and holding on to that life that existed where we were a family of four. Where parents live forever, and you continue to stay just a kid. Who is going to be sure I live up to the person I am supposed to be and keep me in line.
After she passed, the mourning set in, grief did not hit in waves anymore, it was all around. It was everywhere instead of in the cracks of living. The heaviness, the emptiness and distance of presence continued.
As Joan Didion wrote in her book of The Magical Year of Thinking, “Until now, I had been only able to grieve, not mourn. Grief was passive. Grief happened. Mourning, the act of dealing with grief, required attention. “
Knowing this is a familiar place, I know that this season will pass. I know strength and joy will be seen again. Although for now, I am in repair and slowly putting myself back together.
“I’m in repair, I am not together but I’m getting there….” – John Mayer