It has been one month now since the death of my oldest grandson. I am not sure how one navigates grief. However, if there is a way, I will find it. I must. For me to maintain any type of life balance, I have to learn how to live with/through grief. So far, I hate it and am not doing well. I wake up crying and go to sleep crying. I cry on and off throughout the day. Any little thought or trigger can cause tears to stream down my face at any given moment. I have absolutely no control. I tell myself--you have control of this, do not start crying. I do not listen. I cry anyway.
This is not my first encounter with grief. I've lost other loved ones. Cousins, aunts, and uncles. I've lost a niece and 2 nephews. I've also lost my own mother and father. So, I am no stranger to grief. Nothing, however, prepared me for this loss. Nothing. The loss of a grandchild? It feels like the loss of my own child. The grief is unbearable. It consumes me. It's all I think about, all I dwell on.
My mind goes to sad, dark places. I think about all the things that my grandson is going to miss out on—holidays, marriage, children—everything. He will be forever 22 years old. If I could just put these thoughts in a box for a few short hours, I might stop crying. It's hard, though, when the leaves on the trees outside my window tell me that he will not see the fall changes. He will never again come through my door, hugging me and saying -hi, grandma. I obsess over these thoughts. I need them to stop.
I have tools—psychology tools—and I am using them. I am walking out the steps. The tools I used to help others, hopefully, will one day help me. Hopefully. Prayerfully. Prayer--I do pray. I pray hard. When I pray, though, I pray honestly. I am very mad. I do not sugarcoat anything when I talk to God. I gave my life to him when I was a child and expected him to protect my family. He did not, so he has heard about it from me. He has heard a lot. I am sincere in expressing my thoughts and feelings to God. He said he knows my thoughts before I think them--so why not let them fly. Why not be honest and tell him how I really feel. I am mad. I am so mad that I want to scream and yell and ask him why? Why did you let him die when everyone else walked away from the accident. Why? And then, I want to ask him how? How am I supposed to get through this while helping my daughter get through her grief at the same time? And what do I do with this anger? Tell me, God! What do I do now?
This is the first part of me navigating through my grief. This is where I am. I am doing the steps. I am not isolating when all I really want to do is curl up in a ball on the sofa and cry. I am meeting with friends, even though it's hard-- I don't want to cry in front of them and make them sad. I go to shops and restaurants when I do not want to buy anything or eat anything. I do not have an appetite--for anything. I feel completely numb. I am reading the books, doing the things, feeling the feels, everything I should be doing. However, if I am not completely honest with you and lie about my feelings, then I can never help another person. I refuse to be fake.
This has been my first month. This is an honest, raw, painful story. But it's my story. And I won't sugarcoat it for anyone. I will share my walk through grief, how I feel, what I think about, and what my next steps will be. I will not lie. Right now, I am the saddest I have ever been. I am not suicidal. I am just brokenhearted. Will I heal? I don't know. Do I want to? Not really. I wish I could go to sleep and not wake up. Is that honest enough for you? This sadness overwhelms me. I am drowning in my tears. I hope and pray that next month is better/easier.
This is my prayer: Take away my anger. Lead and guide me in all I say and do. Do not leave me. I am afraid. Heal my heart, please, don't leave me bitter. I want to survive this. Help me, please, God. Help me.
