Picking at the Scabs of Grief

My mom died on May 17, 2010. Some days it feels like a hundred years ago, some days it feels like yesterday. I was privileged to hold her hand as she left us. It was the most amazing, horrible, awesome, surreal moment of my life — all roped into one.

I knew I would need help recovering. I’m typically an emotional person, wear my heart on my sleeve and all that. Also prone to depression. I knew I needed some help to process this enormous loss.

(And let’s face it, we all know we’re going to lose our moms someday, right? But when it actually happens? Surreal. And I had won the Mom Lottery so I know I was fortunate.)

So I reached out and found a grief counselor. Called, made an appointment. Walked in, introduced myself in my regular cheery way:

“Hi! I’m Julie Smith. I’ve lost my mom and I need help processing this so that’s why I’m here.”

The grief counselor pegged me immediately. She leaned forward in her chair, looked me straight in the eye and said “You will never cross this off your to-do list.”

Damn! What in the hell did she mean? I was going to feel like this FOREVER?? And how did she know I carried around to-do lists with me all the time?? What a pro.

My grief counselor was amazing. She helped me in ways I didn’t know I needed. And now that friends and family are experiencing a similar loss, I find myself sharing information that she told me. Today I felt inspired to write it down and share some of it.

In no particular order:

• you don’t get over it. you get through it. mainly, because you have no choice. you put one foot in front of the other and you just keep doing that. eventually you come to terms with the “new normal”. yes, some days that sucks.
• you will experience all the stages of grief, at some point. and then you will go through all the stages again. some days you will go through every stage in a span of five minutes. or thirty seconds. some days you will stay in one particular stage. you will never do the stages in order, and you will never grieve exactly the same way as anyone else. your grieving is like your fingerprint
• you will realize that you used to send cards and go to funeral homes and feel like a good friend. but now you realize “Oh my god, the worst part was two weeks later when everyone thinks life is back to normal and they act normal and here I was thinking I was a good friend and I was clueless.” forgive yourself. you can’t understand until you’ve been there.
• you need to grieve deliberately. this means that when you feel the grief come at you in waves, ride those waves. don’t repress them. (those feelings will come out in one form or another, rest assured.)
• you might be surprised that some people never bring it up. that’s not because they don’t know or don’t care about your loss, but they might be really freaked out at what to say or they might think you don’t want to talk about it. either way, know that your friends and family love you even if they’re not sure how to help you right now
• strange things will bring you to tears. the things you thought would bring you to your knees (like hearing mom’s favorite song at Mass, etc) will be easy but suddenly seeing a woman at the grocery store who looks like her will knock you to your core. be prepared.
• time helps. sort of. the pain won’t always be acute. it will turn to a dull ache.

I’m no expert. My only qualification here is that I endured it. But this is what I would tell a friend who just experienced loss. In the meantime…

• send the cards. go to the funeral homes. but then, two weeks later, call that person and see how they are. they might answer, they might not. but THAT is when they need the friendship. when the cards stop coming and the last casserole dish has been returned. and the shock wears off.

(PS every now and then I see a glimpse of my mom in the mirror. it used to make me sad. but now? it brings me unbelievable happiness)