A Year of Grief

It’s been a year since my daughter took her life and I stand in this world much different today than I ever have.  I am broken down, defeated, lost and will never be the same again.   I stand here as a mother who has lost a child.  This past year has been full of grief, hope, and as much strength as I can put together to face every day.

The most difficult part of losing my daughter has been watching my youngest daughter struggle through the grief.  Seeing her struggle through her grief and wanting to fix it and take away the pain, makes my broken heart hurt even more.  There is nothing more painful than seeing your children in pain and not being able to take it away.  Her grief is different than mine, I understand the loss but will never fully understand her grief as a sister and best friend.   I can only be here for her and give her comfort, supporting her through her grief to find healing.

I have learned that relying on others and letting others help has been the most challenging for me, and I haven’t quite figured it all out yet.  I have never been good at relying on others, and now when I am grasping to hold onto the hope I have asking or allowing others to be there is challenging.  I know that I have loving, supportive, caring friends and family that want to be there, but I have always been the one to reach out to help others.  I am trying to let that go and let others be there for me…I am trying.  Walking through this grief is something indescribable to most people, and it has a way to make you feel alone in a crowd of people who love and care for you.  

The waves of grief have taken me through so much already and I know that they will keep coming.  In moments that I find myself smiling and enjoying the moment I feel guilty that I’m enjoying things without her.  When I’m overwhelmed with sadness and fall apart I feel disappointed that I’m not being strong enough for my youngest daughter.  When I sit and think about the time we should have had together the three of us, I am angry.  I roll through these emotions and jump from shock, disbelief, depression, hope, acceptance, love, and hurt.  I am often conflicted about my feelings and how to best express and share them. 

There are days I just fight to survive, others I take on with gusto, some I just get through, and some that I am full of strength wearing my tears as armor taking on the world.  I don’t always know what strength I will have each day, and some days what I think I am ready for turns into something much different. 

The pain my daughter’s illness caused her had to be even greater than the pain we are all in without her here.  Her illness was truly debilitating and she fought with everything she had against it.

The reality of grief is that it is different all the time.  It changes day by day, hour by hour and even minute by minute.

I will forever be reaching to my daughter and for the rest of my life not finding her there and that is how I explain my grief.