It’s been two weeks since my father’s funeral and I’ve been contemplating whether or not I’d start blogging again a lot over the past 72 hours. Since my blog was only a few months old, I didn’t know whether or not it was worth continuing at present. Writing has always been cathartic for me, so I decided that in addition to my usual military, politics, and learning writings, I’d just add pouring my heart out during my grieving process to the list of topics that may grace these pages. I should warn all readers, in upcoming weeks, the grief related posts may far outweigh the type of content you were used to finding here.
Over the past two weeks, I’ve received many pearls of wisdom and some out right stinkers. Lately, I am finding that three comments are granting me the most peace when I slip into moments of introspection.
Pastor Len Mills reminded me that “you don’t need to be strong all the time. It’s ok to cry.” Now that I’m finally home again, I’m finding that, while sporadic, the tears do come. It’s ugly and ackward but I can’t imagine that anyone can heal without them.
In the comments section of my post upon my father’s death, K Smart wrote “About the only thing I learned about parents passing away is that no matter how prepared you think you are, you really are not (prepared).” We’d known for over two years that dad’s cancer was terminal. We’d been praying for an ease to his suffering and a quick and easy death. I told anyone who would listen that I was prepared and ready to cope with the aftermath of dad’s death. Despite all the things you tell yourselves and others, it’s just not true. I spent the first week after my dad’s death walking from one emergency and disaster to another. I walked on eggshells and tried my best not to say or do anything that might have irrepairable consequences. I’m not sure how well I succeeded at any of it. After I left my mom’s house, I stumbled through a wedding of my husband’s childhood friend and bounced from one relative’s house to another. It was weeks before I stepped inside my own home or spent any time alone. As long as I have other things to focus my mind on I’m ok. The minute I am left to my own devices or have a few minutes of down time I’m a complete mess.
On Thanksgiving, Carolyn shared a piece of advice she’d received from a woman who’d lost a child. I’m paraphrasing a bit here, since it was well after midnight. “Do whatever you need to do to make it through and be prepared to pay the price”. For the first time in years I am putting everything on my plate on the back-burner and I’m going to take a bit of time to concentrate on me. I’m going to do things because I want to, not because I feel some sort of moral responsibility to do so. I’m going to spend time picking and choosing where (or to whom) I dedicate my time and energy. No one can do my grieving or healing for me, so I expect I’ll be a bit selfish in the process. I’ll pay the piper his due.
Technorati Tags: death, grief, advice, comments, healing
