Only one post in a month and a half.
This grieving stuff is not for sissies, that is for sure. So much has gone through my mind, so many thoughts and feelings and realizations, that it seems too much to post. Perhaps it is too personal. I feel extraordinarily vulnerable. After all, if Mom could die, I can too, or Taciturn or Only Son or my grandchildren. I read an article in the NY Times yesterday about allowing children to walk alone anywhere. That put me into a crying panic thinking about my blond, lovely 7 year old granddaughter who strolls around her neighborhood at will and what would happen to her and to us if someone snatched her off the street? Normally I don't react like that to newspaper articles.
Besides being vulnerable, I feel at times blank and empty. The emptiness cries to be filled, so I'm eating with gusto. My frame remained trim for a long time after the sojourn at WW. But in just under six weeks, I've put on ten pounds! It was embarrassing to go to lunch with a friend and to be so busy stuffing my face that I could not talk with her. I was mortified but still I kept shoveling it in as if my very life depended on it. I apologized profusely for the sin of gluttony. She was great about it. Unfortunately, that scene has been repeated many time in private.
Lots of stuff. Sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy; after all, almost everyone my age has lost a parent and they all can still function! I remind myself I only see what is presented to the public. When I confess in conversation what has happened, I find that those who have lost a parent are wonderful. At coffee hour today, for example, a woman burst into tears when I mentioned Mom had died; we were just talking about how we spent our summers. She told me later in the conversation that she was a wreck for a full year after her mother died, so I should be gentler with myself. After all, this is a fresh, new wound.
I appreciated that. And I appreciate that no one is telling me to have more faith in God, pray more, etc. One of my friends gave me a booklet called Good Grief that was written for Christians who are struggling with loss. On of the problems the writer discusses is the idea that Christians are to rejoice always, so it is tempting to feel guilt over feeling grief. He points out that even Jesus grieved.
Dad and I chat on the phone once a week, especially now that everyone has gone back to school/work/daycare and he is alone most of the day. He seems to be doing as well as can be expected.
Although I'm not blogging, I am doing my morning pages almost every day. Since no one sees them but me, I can pour out what needs to be. It helps. I'm also on Facebook, but I find I'm wasting lots of time there. If I've learned nothing else from Mom's death, it is that time is finite. Giving up Facebook actually occurred to me. I'm not prepared to do that, but to be there less would be good.
Recalling that it does get a bit better each day, I look forward to tomorrow.