good, grief
Sep. 26th, 2010 07:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jawnbc Today was the first time in over a week I felt bereaved. Not that I'm complaining.
In my 20s I would have approached grieving a loss as something that's happening to me. Like someone died at me or something. I didn't have my first experience with a loved one dying until Pop (paternal grandfather) died in my early 30s. He was 89, had lived an amazing life, and while we were sad to lose him...it's kind of stoopid to say "damn you Gawd for only giving him to us for 89 years!" Even so I cried just about every day for six months or so. I was sad every day--but every day at some point I'd realize I was crying.
It felt lovely, lovely to feel. I felt so incredibly normal. So I would usually start laughing. So the next time you pass some eejit laughing and crying on the street that might be me. Or a loon.
When Brenda died, when Nanny died, same thing: I just felt blessed to have had them in my life. This time is different though: I am feeling much sadder--sadder than with any of the others. But even that's moment-by-moment. Last week I had half a sad day on Monday, then almost 2 weeks of sad-free, then today.
I miss Mom, even though for the last several months she was losing her marbles (lack of oxygen to the brain I'd guess) or couldn't even come to the phone some weeks.I think the reason she died--tobacco related emphysema--is part of it. If she hadn't ever smoked (or had given up early enough) she wouldn't have become an invalid weeks after retiring. She would have been able to enjoy her retirement with Dad. Maybe she would have been able to come up for a visit to our place in Vancouver. Maybe we three could have tortured![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
querrelle by going on a cruise together (Mom, Dad, me and querrelle --ha!). Maybe maybe maybe. I don't feel as cheated for me as I do for Mom--and Dad.
One thing all of this underlined for me though: life is NOW. I'm glad I've hit all the "I would love to go to..." places already. Had I done the "right" thing--work and save and scrimp until retirement--like Mom did, I might get stiffed as well. Kids would've been kewl, though.
I miss you Mom; feel free to come back and haunt us, eh?
In my 20s I would have approached grieving a loss as something that's happening to me. Like someone died at me or something. I didn't have my first experience with a loved one dying until Pop (paternal grandfather) died in my early 30s. He was 89, had lived an amazing life, and while we were sad to lose him...it's kind of stoopid to say "damn you Gawd for only giving him to us for 89 years!" Even so I cried just about every day for six months or so. I was sad every day--but every day at some point I'd realize I was crying.
It felt lovely, lovely to feel. I felt so incredibly normal. So I would usually start laughing. So the next time you pass some eejit laughing and crying on the street that might be me. Or a loon.
When Brenda died, when Nanny died, same thing: I just felt blessed to have had them in my life. This time is different though: I am feeling much sadder--sadder than with any of the others. But even that's moment-by-moment. Last week I had half a sad day on Monday, then almost 2 weeks of sad-free, then today.
I miss Mom, even though for the last several months she was losing her marbles (lack of oxygen to the brain I'd guess) or couldn't even come to the phone some weeks.I think the reason she died--tobacco related emphysema--is part of it. If she hadn't ever smoked (or had given up early enough) she wouldn't have become an invalid weeks after retiring. She would have been able to enjoy her retirement with Dad. Maybe she would have been able to come up for a visit to our place in Vancouver. Maybe we three could have tortured
querrelle by going on a cruise together (Mom, Dad, me and querrelle --ha!). Maybe maybe maybe. I don't feel as cheated for me as I do for Mom--and Dad.One thing all of this underlined for me though: life is NOW. I'm glad I've hit all the "I would love to go to..." places already. Had I done the "right" thing--work and save and scrimp until retirement--like Mom did, I might get stiffed as well. Kids would've been kewl, though.
I miss you Mom; feel free to come back and haunt us, eh?
