I’m so sorry for your loss. By looking at you, I see how tears have washed your face. I was in my late twenties when my mother and father died, so let me offer what little I know.
There were days I wondered how I could feel so good. Leaves shimmered in the trees, flipping sunlight around. The dog chased the Frisbee. I felt peace, like a mattress, a comfort that I thought came from God or people’s concern. Where the heck are my tears?
Other times I didn’t think my tears would stop. Sometimes my grief felt like fear. When my people were caught up in their lives, their insensitivity infuriated me. Anger is a strange and powerful energy that blunted the pain.
Try to let these emotions roll like rain showers and cloud shadows. But also try to meet your obligations, because they give you a breather from the pain. Find time to work up a sweat. Don’t forget to walk outside and see the wide world. If you need to sleep off a weekend, then sleep.
Find people you can trust with your stories. When my mother died, others stepped in, offered a mother’s touch. They taught me things that my mom could not. They listened.
And if someone who is grieving calls on you, remember how you were helped. Take time to listen.
I’m Katie Andraski, and this is my perspective.
