On Grief

So my mom died. June 19, 2016 was the darkest day I’ve ever known. We were close and I miss her more than all the words on all the posts could express. _DSC1992.jpg

And as this space has always been about whatever-I’m-going-through, I’ve posted quite a bit on here through my mourning.

My hope is that my story – all my stories – find the people who need to hear them. With grief – like other things – I hope to also offer a permission slip: It’s okay to be sad, angry, frustrated, confused, and happy. One of the most disorienting parts of grief is that you may feel the deepest pain you’ve experienced and then smile at a butterfly. I want to prove that these feelings won’t kill us and that sharing them isn’t shameful. We go through so much of life pretending to be more okay than we are; I’m finding that my honesty doesn’t make me “that depressed friend” or “that emotional basket case” or “that girl we avoid at parties,” it makes me a safe human, it makes me not-a-robot, it makes me an “oh, you, too? can we talk?” person.

Losing my mom has meant a tearing ache and unbearable throb sometimes. It’s also been a catalyst for so much Good. Now, don’t get me wrong (and don’t get me started) on how totally not worth it any of the good stuff is. I’d take her back for one minute in exchange for all the “lessons” and well-meaners who point out that I’m getting to learn stuff only highlight that they have no idea what they’re talking about. But it’s there so I share that, too. Silver linings are sort of my favorite.

So if you are experiencing grief, first, I’m so sorry for your loss. I really am. I am so bitterly sore that we have this thing happen to us in life – that what we cherish and enjoy and depend on are sometimes taken from us. How gross.

And second, I hope you find some comfort here. It won’t be enough, but I hope it’s something. You’re not alone and it really is as awful as it feels, but you’re going to be okay.

All my love to you, friend.