I Want to Talk About the Grieving Process
Different For Everyone... It is long, it is hard and it affects everyone differently. I have lost my parents and friends, but nothing prepares you for losing a child.
It permeates every thought and every action you take. She is my first thought in the morning and my last at night. I struggle to comprehend God's plan in all of this except to say that she suffered, tremendously.
It always stuck in the back of my mind that she might go. That i might actually lose her. My only daughter, actually both of my children, had a very rare disease.
In February 2007, she ended up in a coma in ICU. She had a central nervous system infection and was placed in a drug induced coma. The doctor told me that once the infection had penetrated her central nervous system, that was the beginning of the end. I still could not see that was going to be her demise.
I got the news at work when she had passed. The old "We regret to inform you call". I did not even know she was in the hospital. She had collapsed at her residence and her boyfriend of 14 years let he lie for 2 days before getting help. I hate to say murder but that is what we feel like happened. Plain stupidity can't justify this action.
I was in a stupor, in a city far away when I heard. I fell to my knees in sheer disbelief. You are lieing to me, I yelled out. I had the doctor's number in my planner and he confirmed somberly that she had passed. They grieved too as they had taken care of my daughter for a long time.
My rational brain tried to take over. For the first time in many years, I called my exhusband trying to control what I could. I will write the obituary I said because I knew he could not articulate what needed to be said. Ok, but i need it by the end of the day..How in the world do you write something rational in the space of 2 hours plus get plane tickets for the flight home. I want her buried in my plot I told him. I needed to keep her near me. Good, he said. One less thing I have to pay for.
I am having the service during the day. No one is going to come anyway he said...(the place was packed). All i could do is stare at her, memorizing everything about her face. And all i wanted to do was touch her. Tell her over and over again how much I loved her. I stayed by her side until it was time to lower the coffin lid and i could not bear to see that happen.
The funeral was a blur to me. Mean things were said that were totally inappropriate at the time. Anger welled up inside me. I was a spectator not an active participant at my own daughter's funeral.
It was the aftermath that got me. I cycled through the 5 stages of grief over and over. I was in grief counselling for 9 months. I could not stop crying. I had to bargain with myself to get out of bed. If you write out 5 thank you notes, you can sleep another hour I told myself. My work saved me. Not the people, the patterns of my job.
I lashed out at anyone who came near me. I did bizarre things. I thought i had lost my sanity. AND I wanted to die. I begged God to take me. I didn't want to live. pure and simple.
To this day, and it will be 6 years soon, I still grieve. I miss her every single moment.
It permeates every thought and every action you take. She is my first thought in the morning and my last at night. I struggle to comprehend God's plan in all of this except to say that she suffered, tremendously.
It always stuck in the back of my mind that she might go. That i might actually lose her. My only daughter, actually both of my children, had a very rare disease.
In February 2007, she ended up in a coma in ICU. She had a central nervous system infection and was placed in a drug induced coma. The doctor told me that once the infection had penetrated her central nervous system, that was the beginning of the end. I still could not see that was going to be her demise.
I got the news at work when she had passed. The old "We regret to inform you call". I did not even know she was in the hospital. She had collapsed at her residence and her boyfriend of 14 years let he lie for 2 days before getting help. I hate to say murder but that is what we feel like happened. Plain stupidity can't justify this action.
I was in a stupor, in a city far away when I heard. I fell to my knees in sheer disbelief. You are lieing to me, I yelled out. I had the doctor's number in my planner and he confirmed somberly that she had passed. They grieved too as they had taken care of my daughter for a long time.
My rational brain tried to take over. For the first time in many years, I called my exhusband trying to control what I could. I will write the obituary I said because I knew he could not articulate what needed to be said. Ok, but i need it by the end of the day..How in the world do you write something rational in the space of 2 hours plus get plane tickets for the flight home. I want her buried in my plot I told him. I needed to keep her near me. Good, he said. One less thing I have to pay for.
I am having the service during the day. No one is going to come anyway he said...(the place was packed). All i could do is stare at her, memorizing everything about her face. And all i wanted to do was touch her. Tell her over and over again how much I loved her. I stayed by her side until it was time to lower the coffin lid and i could not bear to see that happen.
The funeral was a blur to me. Mean things were said that were totally inappropriate at the time. Anger welled up inside me. I was a spectator not an active participant at my own daughter's funeral.
It was the aftermath that got me. I cycled through the 5 stages of grief over and over. I was in grief counselling for 9 months. I could not stop crying. I had to bargain with myself to get out of bed. If you write out 5 thank you notes, you can sleep another hour I told myself. My work saved me. Not the people, the patterns of my job.
I lashed out at anyone who came near me. I did bizarre things. I thought i had lost my sanity. AND I wanted to die. I begged God to take me. I didn't want to live. pure and simple.
To this day, and it will be 6 years soon, I still grieve. I miss her every single moment.
61-69, F
