Tears

[qos]

Time got away from me last night, and I didn't actually turn the light off until almost 11pm. When I did finally start to settle down I was quickly overwhelmed with grief. It was the second time in three or four days that I've broken down into wracking tears at bedtime, overwhelmed by grief and loneliness and a screaming protest of It's not fair!

There was nothing I could do to comfort myself. Everything I tried only made me feel worse. I felt utterly alone and hopeless.

Finally my daughter appeared in my doorway. "Mom, are you okay?"

I couldn't even answer, I could only cry.

She came into the room and lay down next to me on the bed, saying quietly and sweetly, "It's okay, Mom. . ."

It wasn't okay. That was the problem. I wasn't okay. But having her there helped. I've always felt free to cry in front of her, so she isn't afraid of my tears. Every so often she would repeat, "It's okay, Mom." After a while I asked her if she would sit up, and I held her tightly. "It's so unfair," I finally managed to choke out. "I miss him so much. I want to make him come back by sheer force of wanting."

"I understand. I felt that way about [her pets who have died]."

I was so upset in grief that I almost laughed bitterly at the comparison between my beloved and her pets, but managed to retain enough sanity and control to honor her words instead.

"You need to rest," she finally told me, with all the wisdom of her eleven years. "That will help."

When I had acknowledged that she was right and had calmed down, she started back to her room. I said, "I'm sorry I disturbed you with my crying."

"I didn't hear anything," she replied.

"Then why did you come in?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I just felt something was wrong."

I cried for a little while longer after she left, and eventually settled down with the help of some spiritual allies -- but my grief is still close to the surface today.


It's not fair.
And there's not a damn thing anyone can do about it.
And I hurt so very much.

Comments

[qos.livejournal.com]

Thank-you, my friend.

I will try to remember your wisdom.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_storyteller_/]

*hugs

I am here. Let me know how I can help. I know that it is difficult getting help from the very image of what you have lost, but I am here.

[qos.livejournal.com]

I *do* appreciate this. Thank you.

[wlotus.livejournal.com]

I am always amazed at the thought you put into interacting with your daughter, even in the midst of your own, incredible pain. No wonder she is such an amazing person: she has an amazing mom.

You're right: it isn't fair. I think you are further along the healing path than those who insist otherwise.

[qos.livejournal.com]

*hugs

Thank-you.

Lifeguards

[thomryng.livejournal.com]

It's funny how grief can sneak up on you and suddenly drown you, like a tidal wave with no warning.

De profundis clamavi ad te Domine: Domine, exaudi vocem meam. Fiant aures tuæ intendentes in vocem deprecationis meæ

The depths are really inside you, of course, and the trick is that generally it's pretty difficult to claw to the surface by yourself.

(Out of the depths I call to you, LORD: Lord, hear my cry! May your ears be attentive to my cry for mercy)

But it seems to me that both your daughter and the Divine have reached in to give you a hand out. Love overcomes all.

You remain in my prayers. Know that you are loved.

Re: Lifeguards

[qos.livejournal.com]

Thank-you, Thom.
It really was like a tidal wave, rising up and overwhelming me.
I am grateful for your prayers.

[quietearthling.livejournal.com]

Your daughter is very wise.

I wish I could say something that would make the grief of your loss more bearable, but I don't think such words exist.

[qos.livejournal.com]

You're right, they don't exist, but I deeply appreciate your thoughts and support.

[princesca.livejournal.com]

Is it possible that he compelled your daughter to sense your need? Some might see that as further proof of the interconnectedness of all planes of existence - and that, quite possibly, he really is still watching over you.

I think it's wise to see a grief counselor, though. Speaking from experience, when my mom went through the end of her 19 year marriage, it places a large burden on young children to be in a position where they feel as if they should somehow help their parent, but can't. But I also think it's awesome that you don't hide this from your daughter. Kids should know how to deal with grief in healthy ways. It's probably just good to have another adult to talk to about what you're feeling.

[oakmouse]

*hugs*

[blessed-harlot.livejournal.com]

Such pain... and yet you don't lose sight of your love for your daughter, nor the truth of connection to those we love, even when we can't sense just where they are. You have amazing strength, and such a fierce heart.

I continue to pray for you and your family, and I long for many blessings for you.