Grief Graffiti

I’ve read this, I’ve heard it said to me, but now I can say from experience how true this is: Grief is not linear. The stages do not go in order. There are days I feel like the pain hurts a little less, my chest isn’t as heavy, I can breathe a little deeper. Then a day or two later I can’t stop crying, I can’t get out of bed, I don’t know how I am going to make it through the day. In some ways it gets harder over time. Grief is a complex and deeply personal experience that varies greatly from person to person. People say, “time heals all wounds”, but for many of us grief seems to intensify over time. As time passes, the initial shock and numbness of our loss gradually gives way to a deeper understanding and acceptance of the reality. This awareness can bring a flood of new emotions, including sadness, anger, guilt, and regret, which intensifies the grieving process.

As the initial support and sympathy from others wanes, we can feel increasingly isolated, amplifying our sorrow. We begin to move through the milestones, anniversaries, birthdays, and other reminders of our loved one, and it triggers waves of grief, bringing back memories and reopening emotional wounds. It can be so confusing, unsettling, and frustrating when this happens. It can make you feel like you’re going crazy. I’m one of those people that like things to be in order, with attainable stages, and in the past I always knew that the pain of heartbreak would lessen over time. But that’s just not how grief works. It’s complicated and messy and I often find it hard to explain so that others can understand. I can come across as having it all together, or being strong, when often under the surface I am treading water, barely keeping my head above the waves. I read this today and it expressed it so well:

“Do not judge the Grieving Mother. She comes in many forms. She is breathing, but she is dying. She may look young, but inside she has become ancient. She smiles, but her heart sobs. She walks, she talks, she cooks, she cleans, she works, she IS but she IS NOT, all at once.  She is here, but part of her is elsewhere for eternity.”

~ Author Unknown

“Who is a grieving mother? Does she look different from one who is not?

Is her pain visible in the smile she sometimes forces…

behind the eyes on the verge of tears?

Can you see the aging her body feels from the trauma of loss?

She’s one who still pictures herself from before the loss

and is sometimes caught off guard at the reflection looking back from the mirror.

Who is a grieving mother?

She’s one who ignores a baby shower or birthday invitation one day

because the pain is still too raw.

And the next, celebrates the small milestones, for she knows how precious they are.

She’s one who boxes up a lifetime of mementos in an afternoon

Yet years later still can’t dredge up the courage to go through them again.

Who is a grieving mother?

She’s one who holds it together in the big things and falls apart over spilled milk.

Who loves deeply those closest to her, but keeps her heart guarded for protection from others.

She’s one who grimaces at the first laughs after loss but later laughs louder than most.

Who finds joy in simple things and relishes everyday moments.

Who is a grieving mother?

She’s one held hostage by dates on the calendar and unexpected triggers.

And one who will always pause for sunsets, butterflies, and sweet signs from above.

She’s one who lets go of friends unable to support her.

And one who treasures those who didn’t walk away.

Who is a grieving mother?

She’s one who can experience an array of emotions on any given day.

And one who wishes tears would come when numbness covers her.

She’s one who screams at God one moment and clings to him the next.

Who didn’t expect her faith to grow so much

from the most critical unanswered prayer she ever spoke.

Who is a grieving mother?

She is one as complicated as the grief she carries.“

-Heather Blair, Still Standing