It makes me wonder if the dream is about grief and feeling like I don't have "permission to mourn" anymore. (Maybe because I've been reading a book with that title :)
It's been about 3 1/2 years. I think extended family, friends, neighbors, and strangers think that we should be on our way now.
Because we are in many ways....
So why do I find myself fighting back tears daily again?
I found this journal of Cam's recently....
The scene of the accident, drawn by 6-year-old Cam on April 30, 2012
(3 months post-accident)
(3 months post-accident)
"Elle in the hospital"
"At the hospital"
"When Elle woke up"
"Elle drinking the medicine to make her go to sleep"
"Burying Elle in her casket."
In "Permission to Mourn," the author writes:
"Because the truth is
that at the time of your loved one's death
if you were really able to fully grasp
the magnitude of what happened
and all its implications
you would most likely not be able to survive.
Literally.
"... I believe our bodies would shut down.
Our minds would turn off
Our spirits would take flight.
"Our new reality is simply too much to take in all at once.
"So
we take it in
little-by-little
detail-by-detail.
Over time.
Lots of time."
His explanation was cathartic for me, because in my experience it's true. If I could have felt at that time the enormity of Elle's death and what it would mean for me and our family, my body would have stopped functioning.
So now I'm grateful for the long, drawn-out process of grieving. It's not fatal in small doses and is accompanied more and more by courage, compassion, and the energy of life.
(in the car swinging to some country song :)
Just as a side note: I've probably read 20 or 30 books on grief since Elle died, but "Permission to Mourn" by Tom Zuba was the stand-out for me. The author and his wife lost their first child at 18 months. Nine years later, his 43-year-old wife died suddenly of a rare protein C deficiency, leaving Tom to raise their two sons, ages 3 and 7. Six years later, his 13-year-old son died of brain cancer. He knows grief. And he knows how to move ahead with hope.
Rob has not wanted to talk about his grief and was definitely not interested in reading grief books, but I convinced him to read "Permission to Mourn." It's short and to-the-point and written by a man, so I thought he might connect with it. He told me a few days ago, "I haven't read any other grief books to compare it to, but this book is really good." :) :)
4 comments:
I'll have to check that one out. <3!
Hugs! From one grieving mother to another take all the time you need!
I know I'd never judge a mother's grief after losing such an angel. I know that one thing I've learned is the value of "the process". Whatever or however long it takes is just progress. I love you, I admire your dignity, strength, vulnerability and courage.
I think of Elle and your family often...probably more often than can be deemed normal, as I didn't really know Elle except through your blog. It still breaks my heart, and I still cry reading your posts. I don't think anyone expects you to be finished and moving on. But I do think that people admire your candor about grief, your willingness to struggle through it as best you can, and your love and commitment to your entire family. I know you can't truly write the magnitude of your grief and loss, but believe me when I say that no one is judging you.
Post a Comment