Grieving

[Miss Scarlett]

Originally Posted by MsTinkerbelly

I lost my Mother in May of this year. I used to call home and check in with her every day at 10am when I had to work. Now, 10am comes and I sit quietly remembering the loss.

I wish I could explain grief so that those that have never faced it would know the devastating SORROW you feel in your very soul....the ache that is never gone, only dulled with time. Flying home from Europe planning what pictures I was going to show her, and what to tell her about the wonderful places I had gone, and then, remembering.......breaking out in tears....sitting on a plane being held by my spouse.

Someone told me that they understood someone leaving him that could not take his grief and responsibilities....it takes someone strong and loving to be there day after day with someone so preoccupied....if they can leave so easily, what does that say about when things REALLY get tough?

Sorry, rambling a bit....

(((((MsTinkerbelly))))) I know exactly what you mean. I lost my Mom on March 12, 2007. I hate needing her and reaching for the phone only to remember she isn't there.

There are absolutely no words to describe losing your mother. Devastating grief is a good start but there is a cold, hollowness that never goes away. I'm not sure you get used to it - even though I have heard that from many people. You certainly never get over it.

When she was sick I used to call during the day to check on her - my employer (who KNEW my Mom had terminal cancer and was not expected to live more than a month) at the time actually chastised me for "spending entirely too much time on the phone with your mother during the day." The calls were made before work hours, on what was supposed to be my lunch break and right before I went out the door at night. If Dad was not there I would make a short call mid-morning or mid-afternoon to see how she was. Those calls lasted less than 2 minutes. The calls made on my own time averaged about 5 minutes if that.

My stepmother is a nice lady but she is not Mom. Dad isn't any help at all. He doesn't want to talk about anything painful. I have my journals and my art and twice a month I see a counselor.