A year ago today my life and lives of my family changed forever.
Ma, Nan, Great-Nan, Sister, Auntie M.
Gone.
A constant in all our lives was no more.
Replaced by a new constant.
We have all heard of the seven stages of grief, and we all know we will go through them. Usually in some degree by the time we are 10. A pet, a grandparent, a friend of the family. An unfortunate part of growing up and learning about life is learning about about death.
The Seven Stages are:
- Shock & Denial
- Pain & Guilt
- Anger & Bargaining
- Depression, Reflection & Loneliness
- The Upward Turn
- Reconstruction & Working Through
- Acceptance & Hope (source recover-from-grief.com but they are all pretty much the same)
There. Just like that. In that order. Like assembly instructions for a bar-b-cue.
Well, either I'm doing it wrong or the instructions are wrong.
I've already completed up to Steps 4a, 6a & b, and Step 7a. My Step 5 is missing and Step 7b doesn't apply.
I'm still working on Step 4b & c.
Today normally I would be visiting Pa and giving him a funny card, some scratch lottery tickets (Cash for Life to spite Ma) and crosswords. Ma would be fussing over us and getting us drinks and cookies and trying to slip cash in our pockets when we weren't looking. I would be telling him about all the features of my first ever brand new lawnmower, a gift from M.D.B. and all The Thing's. Later Ma would call at suppertime (whenever that was, I never knew how she did that) to tell us how much they enjoyed the visit.
My point? (omg he has a point!)
There is no instruction manual for life. Or death. Or grieving.
Tab A doesn't always fit in Slot B. Sometimes there isn't even a Slot to fill.
Like parenting, it's all on the job training.
Other duties as assigned.
DJW
Happy Fathers Day, Pa. We miss you and Ma.
Everyday.
4 comments:
i was going to have cookies and milk day in honour of nan, since she always gave us those PC Decadent cookies and milk when she'd watch us after school, but my fridge froze my milk.
Cookies and Coke is kinda close, I guess.
RIP Nan.
I'd love to be able to tell you it gets better. But it doesn't really, it just slides more into the background as life fills the empty spaces. Even after four years I'll be blindsided by a piece of music, (Welsh, can't help it) a photograph or a milestone in our lives that we can no longer share. We may not be angry, depressed or in denial, but we will never stop missing them.
Amen, Uncle DJ. *hug*
My Uncle, who raised me like a father, died almost 4 years ago, and I still cry when I go visit him. It's just so hard...there are still times I catch myself wanting to call him, or go see him and tell him something, and those times still bring tears to my eyes and a tight feeling to my chest. I hear it gets better, but no one has told me when...
I'm so sorry for your loss :-(
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