Good Mourning Grief

A blog about my adventures as a grief warrior

Month: July 2020

One More

July 26, 2020 /

I am longing for one more hug with my son.  One more “I love you”. One more touch of his manicured hair.  One more listen to the sound of his laugh.  Oh how I loved his laugh. 

For those of us grieving, the wish for just ‘One more’ is a popular wish.

We ask for ‘One more’ for reassurance. Did they know how special they were?  How much they were loved?

We ask for ‘One more’ for closure. What did I need to tell you?

We ask for ‘One more’ for forgiveness.  Did I do enough?  Was I good enough?

We ask for ‘One more’ for love. That needed hug and touch of our loved one.

Why do we choose to cry out for one more?  Why not a hundred more?  Why not a million more?  What could there possibly be in ‘One more’ that would make this grief any less? The truth is one more would never be enough.

Don’t ask me how I am

July 19, 2020 /

I recently had coffee with a friend, a fellow grief warrior.  She brought up a pet peeve in our community; the simple and well intentioned question, “how are you?”  Our answer would like to be “how the hell do you think I’m doing?” However, our answer is usually some version of, “I’m ok”, when in fact we are not.  We will never be.  OK, is the acceptable answer?  It’s the answer we think you want to hear.  Grief is not accepted in our culture as a lifelong sentence.  But it is. And sure there are good days and even moments of joy as we move forward learning to live with our grief.  But OK left when our loved one left.

I said to my friend, perhaps it is our responsibility to inform others how we want to be asked.  We know the question comes from a place of love and concern. It’s just this question makes us feel guilty.  Do I tell you the truth?  Can you handle the truth?  Is it appropriate?  And some days, I don’t know how I’m feeling….I’m just getting by.  I don’t have the energy to actually answer this question.

Maybe the question to someone grieving should be “how is your grief today?” This recognizes grief is a part of us and questions how much, at that moment, we are consumed by it.  The response could be easier for us to express; “it is killing me” or “it is quiet today”.  Acknowledging grief is important because it is a huge part of what we now are and the elevator question, “How are you”, does not fit in this community.

Personally, when I’m asked how are you, my go to answer is, “I’m here.”  And I change the subject.

Journal Power

July 12, 2020 /

A great tool used by many grief warriors is the journal.  I have used one most of my life.  I taught my children to use one. And I use one now. Journaling is different than a diary.  Journaling is writing about how you feel with a particular event, situation, day, emotion.  It is about recording the moment and your reaction to it.  The healing comes when weeks or months after you write; you go back and read your journal entries.  And it reminds you of something that you might have forgotten.  It reconnects you to how you felt then. It can illustrate a theme of behaviour or issue that you now see and can address. 

When Zane was killed, I couldn’t write.  My last journal entry, I wrote the date he was killed and one line.  “My life came to an end.”  There was nothing else to write about. So my therapist suggested I write a letter to Zane.  I bought a new journal, one that had a phrase Zane loved and I took one of his pens he used to write in his journal.  I cried. And then I wrote;

Dear Zane,

It has been 8 weeks since the crash.  Payton said to a friend; “dad is sad, mom is mad and I am the strongest”.  The fact is we are all stronger than we thought, maybe stronger than we want to be.  But none of us are ok.  Nothing is ok.

Each day begins with this ache in my chest.  The ‘what ifs’ are so loud they overtake all else. And then, on auto pilot, the day unfolds.  Each of us in our own stage of grief and each of us in pain.

I am told that this pain, this reality will have me live the rest of my life on a different level.  I don’t know what that means really.  I guess I will find out because there is no option but to be here.

Love you,

Mama  Xo

I have been writing to Zane ever since. I write like he is away at summer camp.  (My other journal I write the raw messy feelings and thoughts no mother would want her son to hear).  Letters to Zane are about missing him, reminiscing, talking about what’s new with his friends, sharing conversations we should be having aloud, together.  It is therapeutic. It helps ground me and it keeps a record of past and present to not be forgotten.

Sun, Dirt & Peace

July 5, 2020 /

I spent the first sunny afternoon we have had in a while, in my garden.  We are told that Nature is the best place to begin to mourn.  There is something about being in a park or by water or by your potted flowers that slows your thinking to a mindless focus.  Spending time in your garden or with your potted plants connects you to the simplicity of life. You can feel the earth in your hands and the sun on your back.  The fragrances of the flowers as you weed and trim floats up to greet your nose. I was joined by my favorite chipmunk who watched me as he ate the peanuts I left for him.  Momma Robin dropped in looking for worms in the shade. The sound of a lawn mower in the distance and the bees humming were background music. No one else was around. I could completely zone out.

This type of solitude is therapeutic. It is physically exhausting and at the same time mentally calming.  When we are grieving, you can feel over stimulated by the stress and expectations of life loud and moving around us. An afternoon in nature allows you to step away from all that.  Wherever you live, try gardening in your yard or patio, tend to a few potted plants or make a little terrarium to care for.  Gardening is good mourning.

© 2024 Good Mourning Grief

Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑