Landscape of Grief
Because life isn't always just about politics. I wrote this some time ago for a fellow poster at a political message board after she reported the loss of her father. The responses to her post were so similar to each other and to my own experience of my dad's death that I wrote this out for her. It was well received and I've decided I need to include it here because, there is more to our lives than just fighting politics.
Landscape of Grief
From the moment of your father's death, time will seem suspended in amber only to pass in an instant. And you will grieve.
At first there is a gathering of family and friends. Jokes and stories abound. Maybe even some morbid humor as you get through the living that constitutes dying. Bittersweet memories of a loved one now gone.
The pain is so intense you won't feel it anymore. Days seem like minutes which take months to pass.
The family gathered will dispurse to their everyday lives and you will return to yours. Not gradually as you might like; but SMACK into the mundane every day which is your life. And you will grieve. And you will cope. And the weeks pass.
The pain is so intense; it's a knife in your gut; you can't breath, but you must. So you gasp.
Every morning you awake to the feeling of loss. Then you remember and you gasp.
Every thought, every feeling returns to your dad. As you work. As you drive. As you write checks for bills. A constant sharp pain where your dad once lived is ever present.
You hear a funny story and you reach for the phone. But he's not there to hear it and you gasp. Tears become a constant companion and threat. Ours is not a world which honors the grieving. So you swallow your tears and move on.
You need your best advisor for a major decision. "I'll have to check with my dad" almost escapes your lips as you swallow and tell the person in front of you, "I'll have to get back to you on that." You feel numb.
You can't remember his face. And you cry for what you've lost. Pouring over old family photos you vow to etch his face in your mind. But you don't. You can't remember his face. You feel fear. Then shame. Then numb.
One morning you awaken and finish your coffee before the feeling of loss returns. You feel guilt you forgot. The pain stabs you in the gut and you gasp.
One day you hear a funny story and think "my dad would have loved that" and you smile through the tears. And you cry as you laugh.
The next morning you awake to a pain so intense you can't breath. You remember and you cry.
Months down the road as you face another decision, you think, "I wonder what my dad would have done?" You smile with a bittersweet memory of your dad's words ringing through your head. And you breathe.
Days later you awake and remember you dreamt of your dad. And you smile.
One day as you're driving down the road, the pain hits so hard you have to pull over and scream and cry and rage at the world. Then you breathe.
Weeks later as you're working in your garden, unbidden your father's face comes to you. You gasp. Then you smile. Then you cry.
The next morning you awake to your father's face in your mind. And you smile. Then you breathe. Then you smile and you go on.
From the moment of your father's death, time will seem suspended in amber only to pass in an instant. And you will grieve.
At first there is a gathering of family and friends. Jokes and stories abound. Maybe even some morbid humor as you get through the living that constitutes dying. Bittersweet memories of a loved one now gone.
The pain is so intense you won't feel it anymore. Days seem like minutes which take months to pass.
The family gathered will dispurse to their everyday lives and you will return to yours. Not gradually as you might like; but SMACK into the mundane every day which is your life. And you will grieve. And you will cope. And the weeks pass.
The pain is so intense; it's a knife in your gut; you can't breath, but you must. So you gasp.
Every morning you awake to the feeling of loss. Then you remember and you gasp.
Every thought, every feeling returns to your dad. As you work. As you drive. As you write checks for bills. A constant sharp pain where your dad once lived is ever present.
You hear a funny story and you reach for the phone. But he's not there to hear it and you gasp. Tears become a constant companion and threat. Ours is not a world which honors the grieving. So you swallow your tears and move on.
You need your best advisor for a major decision. "I'll have to check with my dad" almost escapes your lips as you swallow and tell the person in front of you, "I'll have to get back to you on that." You feel numb.
You can't remember his face. And you cry for what you've lost. Pouring over old family photos you vow to etch his face in your mind. But you don't. You can't remember his face. You feel fear. Then shame. Then numb.
One morning you awaken and finish your coffee before the feeling of loss returns. You feel guilt you forgot. The pain stabs you in the gut and you gasp.
One day you hear a funny story and think "my dad would have loved that" and you smile through the tears. And you cry as you laugh.
The next morning you awake to a pain so intense you can't breath. You remember and you cry.
Months down the road as you face another decision, you think, "I wonder what my dad would have done?" You smile with a bittersweet memory of your dad's words ringing through your head. And you breathe.
Days later you awake and remember you dreamt of your dad. And you smile.
One day as you're driving down the road, the pain hits so hard you have to pull over and scream and cry and rage at the world. Then you breathe.
Weeks later as you're working in your garden, unbidden your father's face comes to you. You gasp. Then you smile. Then you cry.
The next morning you awake to your father's face in your mind. And you smile. Then you breathe. Then you smile and you go on.
Did I tell you today how much I love you?
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