Primal Grief Observed

Never have I felt this

Lack of control

Over my emotions.

I have been reduced

To a quivering,

Gasping

Shell,

Drowning in the

Ocean that falls

From my eyes.

This need to

Have her back

Is all-consuming

I’m vaguely aware

Of the pleas

Tumbling from my lips

Please send her back to me.

Please send her back.

I gulp in the air only to have

The wracking sobs

Steal it back again.

My pain so tangible

Yet I feel numb to it.

Minutes feel like hours

Until the wave finally passes

And I am deposited

Bonelessly onto the

Still unfamiliar shores

Of this cold new reality.

To Push or Let Go

My mother passed away nine weeks ago now, and my siblings and I still have not gotten around to writing an obituary for her. I’ve been anxious to get it done for five weeks now and the response from them, at that time, was “There is no timetable for submitting an obituary so what’s the rush?” One of my sisters admitted she was avoiding working on it. I understand there is no timetable for publishing one, but I can’t help but feel like the longer we wait to write it, the less of a chance we ever will write one as a family. I am so torn between pushing them to start working on it and just waiting until they are ready. We are all processing this immense loss that we are all experiencing. After much contemplating about it, I decided this morning that I’m going to go ahead and write a draft of one and e-mail it to them just to see what they say. I can see one of three things happening if I do this. One, they will tell me that it’s okay and that I should go ahead and publish it. Two, my siblings will say to me that it’s a good start and they will edit it and make suggestions. Or three, they will react with anger and tell me that they will work on it in their own time. But, I can’t let their possible reactions stop me from doing what I feel my mother would want. When she could still read the newspaper, she would always look at the obituaries, and one thing that would drive her crazy was when she came across an obituary that was printed months after the person had died. I know in my heart how upset she would be to know that over two months had passed and there still wasn’t a published obituary for her.

I’ve also found that deciding to write an obituary and actually creating one are two substantially different things. How do you summarize the life of your Mother in less than 300 words? How do you take over 80 years of experiences and life and compress it into a newspaper-friendly size? Over the past several weeks I have tried to write one in fits and starts, but nothing ever sounds good enough to honor her. Nothing has even come close to capturing the magic and grace that was my mother. I can feel my resolve waffling again. I just want to follow my siblings lead and put it on a shelf somewhere and not work on it or think about it. Knowing that’s not what my mom would want though, won’t allow me to do that. The bottom line, in all this, rambling, is that I know what needs to be done. I need to push through this apprehension and feeling of inadequacy and do what my mom would have wanted. This obituary needs to be written sooner rather than later.

Cold Realization

This morning the world held

Less color.

The wind in the trees

Sounding like mournful sighs

Not whispers of hope.

Five days it took

For the realization to

Sink in.

You are not coming home

There is no more you.

And I am alone.

I have felt frozen all day

Wrapped in blankets

And still, I shiver.

Emotions flood

And drown me.

The person I have been

Dies.

The person I am to become

Waits to be born.