When we first lost Hannah I turned to my community of friends. I was blessed. They came from across the country in person, in emails, in text messages, across years of separation and surrounded me with love. They held me up and held my hand. They got me through those first awful, awful months of grief and sadness. I could not have survived without them. I wouldn't have known what to do. They kept me sane and listened to me cry. They kept me upright (most days anyway) and kept me from drowning in grief and depression.
Fast forward a few months and I still need their love and support. But I also need something that they can't give me. Something that I don't want them to give me. I need people now that understand how awful this reality is. And I don't want any of my friends to ever have that understanding because that would mean they also know my pain. I don't want that for them.
So I looked elsewhere to find understanding and the sad fact is that it didn't take long. I was able to quickly find many wonderful women, loving mothers, who have also been on this horrendous journey. And as I get to know them it pains me that we are in this club together. But at the same time I am so incredibly grateful for their support. It's a weird balance. But I couldn't continue this journey without them. My first community kept me upright and my new community keeps me moving. When the going gets tough, we don't give up on each other or ourselves. We share our stories and pictures and heartache, but we also share our hope for ourselves and our families. We know we will never be the people that we were before we experienced the worst, but together we can grow and learn and come out better, stronger and somehow undefeated.
To my communities, old and new, I thank you. I wouldn't be who I am today without you.
Monday, April 27, 2015
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
Getting it Wrong
The other day I had a conversation with someone who shared her story of loss with me. I had no idea that she had experience something like that and I was touched that she would share her story with me. Then she said something that I have been thinking about ever since. Talking about the grieving process she said "I probably did it wrong."
I immediately reassured her that there is no right or wrong way to grieve. Because there is no right or wrong way to grieve. We are all fighting the same battle. Getting up, putting one foot in front of the other and moving forward. We put ourselves back together the best we can, all the while knowing we will never be the same. How we manage to get up and pull ourselves back together is going to be different because we are all different and our stories are all different.
There is no right or wrong way.
But the more I thought about what she said and the more I thought about my response the more I felt hypocritical. Because lately I have been telling myself I have been getting it wrong too. I've been so lucky to be surrounded by so many supportive souls, both near and far. But what I have done wrong, is let the negative voices creep in. I've let the unsupportive voices get louder than the loving voices, until they are all I hear. You're too sad. You talk about it too much. Your blog is too much. It makes people uncomfortable. You're making people worry. You shouldn't talk about it. You should learn to deal with it. You'll be the same again, stop telling yourself that you won't be the same.
All these voices have risen up and taken over the space in my head and my heart where the love used to be. Leaving me feeling surprised and off kilter when a kind voice creeps in.
This is what I am doing wrong.
I can make all sort of excuses for why this happens. Those voices are stronger, those voices come from family, people that generally tell me that I am wrong, that I am less than, that I am not enough. But the fact of the matter is that these voices only have the power that I give them. If I turn them off, if I choose to ignore them, then they will cease to have any importance.
I can get mad and point fingers and cry and moan about how they don't understand and those would all be natural reactions. But quite frankly I am done giving life to their negative emotions. If they don't want to hear about Hannah's story, then they can choose not to listen. If my voice, my story, my writing, makes them uncomfortable, then they can walk away. I'm not writing for them. I'm not grieving for them. I writing for me and grieving for my daughter.
So if you find yourself in my situation or a situation like it. If you are experiencing loss, let me assure you that it is your loss and it is your journey. No one has the right to make you feel like you are doing it wrong. There is no wrong in this situation.
I immediately reassured her that there is no right or wrong way to grieve. Because there is no right or wrong way to grieve. We are all fighting the same battle. Getting up, putting one foot in front of the other and moving forward. We put ourselves back together the best we can, all the while knowing we will never be the same. How we manage to get up and pull ourselves back together is going to be different because we are all different and our stories are all different.
There is no right or wrong way.
But the more I thought about what she said and the more I thought about my response the more I felt hypocritical. Because lately I have been telling myself I have been getting it wrong too. I've been so lucky to be surrounded by so many supportive souls, both near and far. But what I have done wrong, is let the negative voices creep in. I've let the unsupportive voices get louder than the loving voices, until they are all I hear. You're too sad. You talk about it too much. Your blog is too much. It makes people uncomfortable. You're making people worry. You shouldn't talk about it. You should learn to deal with it. You'll be the same again, stop telling yourself that you won't be the same.
All these voices have risen up and taken over the space in my head and my heart where the love used to be. Leaving me feeling surprised and off kilter when a kind voice creeps in.
This is what I am doing wrong.
I can make all sort of excuses for why this happens. Those voices are stronger, those voices come from family, people that generally tell me that I am wrong, that I am less than, that I am not enough. But the fact of the matter is that these voices only have the power that I give them. If I turn them off, if I choose to ignore them, then they will cease to have any importance.
I can get mad and point fingers and cry and moan about how they don't understand and those would all be natural reactions. But quite frankly I am done giving life to their negative emotions. If they don't want to hear about Hannah's story, then they can choose not to listen. If my voice, my story, my writing, makes them uncomfortable, then they can walk away. I'm not writing for them. I'm not grieving for them. I writing for me and grieving for my daughter.
So if you find yourself in my situation or a situation like it. If you are experiencing loss, let me assure you that it is your loss and it is your journey. No one has the right to make you feel like you are doing it wrong. There is no wrong in this situation.
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