a mother’s grief, a mother’s joy
October 25th is my child’s birthday. Last year, it was the evening of her birthday when I received the news that Love was gone. It crippled me instantly and the rest of the evening and night was spent in disbelief and tears.
What a rock my child was for me!
She sat by me as I scanned the internet for information about His death. I found pictures of Him. I found news clips about the accident. I seemed to be the last person to know.
She handed me tissue after tissue. She cried when I cried. She brought me glasses of ice water repeatedly, as that was all I subsisted on for about a week. I lost 20 pounds in 7 days. She didn’t even talk. She just sat. Once I started eating, she made me smoothies, every day, multiple times a day, for at least a month. When I started with solid foods, she made me eggs, every morning. She sat quietly. When I went out into the world, she was there. I cried in front of her and her friends and they didn’t say a word or treat me awkwardly. I was overwhelmed by sights and sounds, near panic and breakdown at Sam’s club and other places we went. I was barely functional. She carried the weight. In Wawa even, I could barely stand because I suddenly remember that was the last location Love and I ventured to, she whisked me out quickly. I didn’t work for 2 months. I worked for 3 or 4 months, then I didn’t work again for almost 2 months. She didn’t complain. She helped me do my hair. She said I was doing a good job.
She did all of this during her senior year of high school while enrolled in college. She graduated with both a 6.3 (3rd in her class) and an A.A. degree and is currently off to college as a junior.
It was my daughter who, in the summer of 2016, approached me and told me,
“Mom, He makes you laugh. He is your Best Friend.”
For her strength, I will be eternally grateful as no child should have to hold up her mother. It was my job to be present for her, and I’m not even sure I allowed her to grieve in her own way because I couldn’t get out of mine. There were many days she was in her own room in the bed, in the dark, lying on her side facing the wall with a box of tissue of her own. All I could do was keep checking on her. Love was the first Man who I allowed to be around consistently in a looooong time. So I know she grieved for Me, for Me grieving over Him, and for herself.
Love and I had laughed so hard late Spring, early summer as I was slowly coming out of my depression with Him. We were laughing about religion, men, Black folk, St. Pete — inflammatory, I know. LOL. We laughed so hard every day, everyone in the house wanted to know what We were talking about.
It takes a special person to love another around and thru depression. It is an act of courage. So don’t let people tell you that crap about having to be whole first, or well first, before love will find you. I didn’t even want the love. I wasn’t looking. It had been around and then it decided to enter clandestinely.
Consider this, had I been “whole” at the time (I was “whole” when We met years ago), this opportunity may have never presented itself.
And so obviously, grieving so hard is because of loving so hard.