grief day 98

At my therapy session last week, we focused solely on the passing of my mom and the grieving process that's followed.

About midway through the session I started to breakdown and cry as I relived the harrowing hours we spent in the ICU. Immediately, I tried to stop and quickly brush away the emotions I was feeling. My therapist forced me (in a good way) to sit with it instead.

It was only a minute or two that I lost my composure. But honestly, it sucked. I hated it. I'm usually good at feeling my emotions and processing things but not this. I don't want to feel my mom's death or this new normal I'm living. That makes it real. And I don't want it to be real.

Last night I was feeling particularly agitated and downtrodden. Dale encouraged me to get out on my own for a little bit so I went to my favorite store, TJ Maxx. While I was perusing the aisles trying to forget my frustration with life my dad called. We talked for awhile about missing mom and how he's just not sure how he's supposed to keep going without her.

I wish I could say I had some sage advice to offer. But I didn't. All I could say was that I felt the same way. That nothing is the same and we're always going to miss her. Yes, eventually the pain will not be as acute as it is now, but it will always be there in some degree or form.

You don't fully get over losses like this. You learn to live and thrive despite the loss. You learn how to honor the love that person gave to you and give it back to others. You learn that grief means that person impacted your soul, your entire being.

My therapist also said that it's the unexpected moments of grief that can really throw you. With the holidays now upon us, I can anticipate that they're going to be emotional and rough, especially with this being the first holiday season without mom.

But it's the times when I'm in the McDonald's drive-thru brooding over a work problem or trying to process the injustice of our custody situation that I feel her absence to my core. Those moments hurt the most. I can't process my feelings and emotions with her anymore. She's no longer a phone call away.

I'm grateful for my strong support system. I wouldn't be functioning as well as I am without my loving husband, dad and siblings, medical professionals, good friends, and work colleagues. You need other people to help you process grief. It's impossible to do by yourself.

As I struggle to move forward, I'm striving to be a woman my mom would be proud of. To find ways to honor her memory and ensure her legacy lives on in me and the children I'm blessed to call mine.

I love you, mom.