Its Not Easy

On mother’s day just past I spent an hour trying to calm my three year old daughter because she didn’t want to get out of the shower. It was a huge tantrum that left the both of us floored and in tears. Admittedly for a while after John passed I let her walk all over me because I didn’t have the energy for a tantrum if she didn’t get her own way. So her behaviour problems towards me are my own fault. As I stood my ground with her and watched her tears fall while she kicked and screamed, I felt defeated. Though I stuck it out with her, for her, because she needs me to be strong. It’s not easy.  

 

 

By the end of it she sat on her bed and sobbed and I sat crouched in the corner of her room and cried. The words “I wish you were here” escaped as a whisper and the pain of saying out loud “things would be so different if you were here” stung just as tenderly as they did the first time I said them. So I went to her side and brushed her face with my palm. I wiped her tears and told her how much I love her. She threw her arms around me and pressed her face into my neck. And I remembered why I am still here. As hard as it is some days.

 

This life has been far from fair and heartache seems to stalk and linger with each step forward. Right now I wish I could forget, I wish I could escape it, I wish I could pretend it wasn’t real. Writing was my way to escape, but now each time I write of grief I feel like I’m drowning, choking and I can’t breathe. I am expected to be better now, it’s coming up to 18 months. That thought makes me feel sick. I know I shouldn’t feel this way, but I feel as though my timeline for this grief is up, that it’s not acceptable. My daughter needs me, so I need to push my grief aside. My job needs me to forget my grief, my friends and family need me to be happy. There is no particular reason I feel this way but I do. I no longer talk about him all the time because he’s not coming back. I am sorry, I am not strong today. I wish I could write something positive, something to help. But today I am just surviving. Pretending. Being dishonest with myself and longing for more than this life.


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  • commented 2017-05-22 07:56:35 -0700
    Kaiti, there is no timeline for grief, most people do not understand you carry it with you. 18 months is not a long time to grieve, and yet those that have not gone through what you have do not understand that. They also probably do not understand your need to talk about your life with John, thinking that they should not bring his name up as it will bring you farther down. As we know, that is so far from the truth, at least for me. I am trying to educate those around me, family and close friends to start with, that he is always on my mind, I don’t want to keep those thoughts to myself, I need to remember him, I need to hear them talk of him.

    My community has a support program for children who have lost a parent or a sibling, started by a parent who lost a child. They meet weekly, share pizza/meal, do art, sometimes an activity off sight for older teens. Perhaps you can find something for your daughter, that support that she is not the only one experiencing this. Three may be young, but as she grows up, she will carry this loss with her , too.

    7 years for me since my husband died, 5 other significant losses in that time, I’m drowning in it, too. Look for a lifeline, hang on, there will be better days. Just surviving some days is ok. It will never be the same life, but I believe it can be good again.
  • commented 2017-05-20 18:27:27 -0700
    I really cannot imagine how difficult it must be to be raising her without him. As I’m becoming a mother figure to my new guy’s daughter, i’m terrified constantly by the thought of how i would do it on my own if he died. And I know now that thats always a possibility. It plagues me. I won’t throw any sunshine at you about things getting better and all that jazz. What do I know? All I can say is, this crap sucks, and I’m really really sorry you’re in this position. He should be here for both of you. But I am glad you’re there for her – what a difference you make.

    Its so so hard when we get to that timeline where everyone expects it to be “better”. As soon as I met Mike, everyone just put me into a different category it felt like. “Oh! She’s with someone new! She’s not widowed anymore, it’s all better and we can all breath a sigh of relief now!” was the total vibe. I’m still grieving. I’m still having hard days. And now, I talk less and less about them except maybe on here. No one asks me how I’m doing. No one wants to hear about grief anymore. It feels even lonelier. I journal a lot more now privately, since I don’t really feel like telling other people helps much anymore. That does help me still. Sending you love my friend.
  • commented 2017-05-20 01:15:32 -0700
    You’re a strong woman Kaiti. Our son was 12 when we lost my Tony. Parenting is a tough job at best, but doing it alone along with the grief makes the unfairness of it all overwhelming. It’s been 6 years for me now. Life is still throwing unfairness my way, and the grief is still there. But I’m watching my son grow into a great young man, and that makes all the struggle worthwhile. It’s ok to just survive some days. We love you

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