*****
It was an offhand comment that wasn't even said to me, but it was about me. The person who said it probably didn't mean any harm, but it has been wreaking havoc on my heart.
"She looks like she's doing fine."
Oh honey... I am not fine.
I may not be hiding away from the world, but I am not fully present.
I may be out and about with my family, but the greatest part of me is stuck in the empty spaces of my heart, sifting through memories.
You might see me smiling and laughing, but every memory is tinged with hues of sadness that my baby is not able to share those moments with me.
I guess my grief doesn't present itself in the way that some would expect.
I am not fine. (WE are not fine!)
Nobody prepared us for life without Lennon. EVERYTHING reminds us of him. We still find ourselves walking by the place where his bed was to kiss him. I still hear his alarms at night. Nikki still drives to our house in the morning. We try to stay asleep to see him in our dreams. It has been three months and we still look and listen for him... only now we make due with what little remains.
It's not fulfilling. Those pictures aren't him. His clothes arent him. His toys and books aren't him. What I wouldn't give to rub his feet or wash his hair one more time.
There is a huge empty space in our house, our minds, and our hearts where he belongs. It has even made us question whether we are still cut our for our careers and hobbies. Our priorities are definitely shifting.
The kids will ask me, "Do you think Lennon is walking right now?" "Will you read us what people wrote in his book?" "Do you remember when Lennon ___________________." I catch them just looking at his shelf, reading his baby books, playing with his toys, talking and crying with each other. It's bittersweet and beautiful.
It seems to me that grief is often met with misunderstanding.
You're grieving too long or not long enough...
You're crying too much or not enough...
You're traveling too much or not enough...
How could you go back to work so soon?
How can you stand to stay at home without him?
You need to box his stuff up so it isn't a constant reminder.
Are you boxing him up so that you can forget about him?
You should _____________.
The next time you see someone grieving, whether it's death or a different kind of loss, support them. Offer to listen, or just to sit and be present for them. Better yet, ask them if there is anything you can do to help. Don't make their process about what you think they should do... after all, it is their grief. As long as they are not doing harm to themselves or others, let them grieve in their own way and their own time. Please don't make assumptions either.
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September 3, 2019 |
