Grief Is A Cruel B*$%h…

Grief is a cruel bitch…

Some days, it’s like an ocean during a storm- where the waves are overwhelming and non-relenting.  It’s like a rogue wave that comes without warning; you have no idea where it’s going to hit you and it always comes when you least expect it.

I’m filing out a survey for the Hospice service that took care of my mother.  A simple survey and I feel like I got punched in the gut.

It’s ALWAYS there, just under the surface at the ready to pull the rug out from under your feet.

I’ve learned to compartmentalize, if I don’t, it would consume me.

I had no idea the impact my mother’s death would have on me. 

It’s been 4 months and I’m still completely devastated.  I’m still in complete shock and there are moments where I just can’t wrap my brain around the fact that she’s really gone.

I really thought that because I lost my dad 12 years ago, and we were really close, I’d know what to expect this time around.

I was so very wrong.

This time is so different, it’s not even comparable.

I miss her so much, it literally aches.  It still takes my breath away when I think about her smile, her laugh, the way she said my name, the way she called me, Baby Girl.  I have her voice recorded and I can’t bring myself to listen to it.  I guess I’m afraid it would shatter me if I did.

I have thank you notes to write yet for those who contributed to her cremation/memorial costs and I just can’t write them.  I need to set up a payment plan to finish paying for the cremation and I just now did that.  I need to purchase an urn for her ashes and I just can’t do it.
Every time I start to work on these things, I just stop breathing.

I experienced so much adversity in my life and I’ve always used it to make me stronger, (and give me a dark sense of humor) but this?  This makes me feel like I’m going to just crumble.

She was so special and so beautiful, and I know she never knew that while she was alive. 
I wish I had told her more.

She had such a hard, hard life, sometimes at her own hands, but not always.
It seems like she never could really get it together, no matter how hard she tried.  Time and again, she picked herself up, and soldiered on.  Things just didn’t work out for her most of the time.  Her times of complete stability were few and far between, but you’d never know it by her attitude.

I wish I had done more to help her with that.

I know that eventually the grief will change into something smoother and less jagged, but right now, it still feels like someone punches me in the gut every time I think of her.

She had the greatest laugh, and she laughed all the time.  She was passionate and felt things big.  She loved with her whole heart.
She never lost her joy.  I could learn a lot from that.