I. Hate. Grief.
I wish I could go back to the 80's...or the 90's.
I knew growing up I had it made. I remember telling Momma in 2002 that I knew something bad was about to happen because life had been too great for me. Little did I know how accurate I was, both about the foreboding future and the sweet past.
I know they say it always looks better in the past, but no, Daddy's cancer was in the past, still looks horrid. My childhood and teenage-hood was just about perfect.
To be back on Bar-J before the new construction, when it was just me, the trees, and the magic at MG's. Life was good.
To be back at 517 S. College - a reawakening for my parents brought a new level of life and peace.
I try so desperately to recreate that life for my own children. It seems impossible.
Grief makes me want to throw things. It makes me want to vomit. Grief makes me feel as if my face might melt in tears of rage and sorrow. Griefs strips you of your future and tarnishes memories of the past. I hate grief.
In a game of hide and go seek - grief always wins. No matter your cover, grief will find you. Be it in release, joy, ignorance, acceptance, grief is always there. Just waiting for the most unexpected time to come and hurl itself onto you. To completely overtake every emotional, spiritual, mental and physical aspect of your being. Grief creates doubts where there was solid faith. Grief creates regret of words unsaid, hugs abandoned too quickly, hands left cold.
You would think after almost 8 years, it would give up, but no, it finds a partner and now it tag teams you. Right when I thought I had figured out the tricks of the grief of my Father, Momma's grief shows up and brings back a grief for Daddy on steroids. Leave me alone.
Grief is hundreds of thousands hands, black as night, gritty, sticky, grabbing for you all at the same time. They press on you from every angle until it feels you cannot breathe, cannot go on. Memories you thought you had conquered from grief's birth, come back to haunt you. Last words, last sights, last thoughts, prayers, hopes, fears. You look back on all you've experienced and out of nowhere, in one fatal swoop - grief makes you relive it all over again. It finds you at night, in dreams, in sleepless nights. It hunts for you in the busyness, reminding you why you cannot remain idle. It interrupts you in the quiet moments, shouting obscenities of a life no more.
Psalm 121:1-2
"I look to the hills. Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord."
I knew growing up I had it made. I remember telling Momma in 2002 that I knew something bad was about to happen because life had been too great for me. Little did I know how accurate I was, both about the foreboding future and the sweet past.
I know they say it always looks better in the past, but no, Daddy's cancer was in the past, still looks horrid. My childhood and teenage-hood was just about perfect.
To be back on Bar-J before the new construction, when it was just me, the trees, and the magic at MG's. Life was good.
To be back at 517 S. College - a reawakening for my parents brought a new level of life and peace.
I try so desperately to recreate that life for my own children. It seems impossible.
Grief makes me want to throw things. It makes me want to vomit. Grief makes me feel as if my face might melt in tears of rage and sorrow. Griefs strips you of your future and tarnishes memories of the past. I hate grief.
In a game of hide and go seek - grief always wins. No matter your cover, grief will find you. Be it in release, joy, ignorance, acceptance, grief is always there. Just waiting for the most unexpected time to come and hurl itself onto you. To completely overtake every emotional, spiritual, mental and physical aspect of your being. Grief creates doubts where there was solid faith. Grief creates regret of words unsaid, hugs abandoned too quickly, hands left cold.
You would think after almost 8 years, it would give up, but no, it finds a partner and now it tag teams you. Right when I thought I had figured out the tricks of the grief of my Father, Momma's grief shows up and brings back a grief for Daddy on steroids. Leave me alone.
Grief is hundreds of thousands hands, black as night, gritty, sticky, grabbing for you all at the same time. They press on you from every angle until it feels you cannot breathe, cannot go on. Memories you thought you had conquered from grief's birth, come back to haunt you. Last words, last sights, last thoughts, prayers, hopes, fears. You look back on all you've experienced and out of nowhere, in one fatal swoop - grief makes you relive it all over again. It finds you at night, in dreams, in sleepless nights. It hunts for you in the busyness, reminding you why you cannot remain idle. It interrupts you in the quiet moments, shouting obscenities of a life no more.
Psalm 121:1-2
"I look to the hills. Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord."
Liz,
ReplyDeleteI wish I could put my arms around you right now, especially after reading your blog today. Even though I can't physically hug you, I am surrounding you with my heart and letting you know that I HEAR YOU. I HEAR you are grieving and my heart breaks for you! I wish I could take all your grief, pain, and regret and leave you with only those warm, wonderful, loving memories of Bart and Marilyn. As they say, grief is necessary. We don't understand it until we're able to somehow tolerate it. I think that's the best we can hope for and you'll move to that stage eventually. But don't let anyone tell you to "get over it" because you can't. You won't. But, you will reach a point when it becomes tolerable. Then, you can move forward and once again...."Learn to Live in the Moment".
I love you and will always be here for you,
Jennifer