It has been one year and some months since my Mother transitioned, and I feel like I’m entering a new level of grief. It’s almost as if it happened yesterday and I’m at that (almost) 3 month mark where I was a year ago. The place after the initial shock wore off and reality set in. Perhaps I was too focused on packing up her things, what to do next, and simply trying to figure out how to function without a phone call from her, hearing her say “I love you”, her hugs, or feeling her baby soft cheek against my lips.I’m not even going to pretend that my life has been perfect since she left. Some days just feel off and very empty without her here. I still can’t wear the cute, cobalt blue skirt she loved of mine (that she tried to swipe often), because it still reminds me of “that day”. I can’t go to Zaxby’s without tearing up thinking about a week prior to her transition, her telling me to “go try the new Asian Chicken Zalad! Girl, it’s so good!”
When you see a smile on my face, it’s genuine—but please know, it STILL HURTS. My heart is broken. I know that time will ease the pain, but not having my Mother’s physical presence will always be felt. If you know me, you know that I’m a naturally, bubbly person. I try my BEST to find the beauty in life even through tragedy and heartbreak. I do my best to stay grounded, stay connected through God’s Word, and surround myself with people who give off good energy. I also know if it wasn’t for life-giving people around me, family, and good friends—I would have lost it by now.
You ever hear people say “turn your pain into purpose”? Well, I’m a firm believer that you can, and you should try to find a way to make a difference. I always feel that there’s someone out there that’s going to need to hear your story/testimony to help them get through. If you only knew the countless testimonies that were shared with me that inspired me or helped me through so many tough spots.
Do you know how hard it is trying to encourage other people when you need encouragement yourself? Sometimes I don’t want to be strong. Sometimes I just need to hear, “it’s gonna be all right” even though I know one day it will. I’m not saying this because I need pity, because I don’t. I’m a human being with human feelings, but this is just the honest truth about grief. It gets hard some days. REALLY HARD!
I have to let others know that it’s OK to feel your feelings. It’s OK to grieve. It’s OK to cry. You are not perfect. You don’t have to be strong all of the time. And when it’s all said and done, be kind to yourself and give yourself grace.
Life is a vapor.
There’s something about hearing those words that puts things back into perspective. Our time on this earth is short. I know God has a plan for my life (and yours). I know I have to get back into the habit of not letting fear keep me from sharing my truth.
That’s why I’m here to tell you…this grief thing is truly something else—and I will continue to heal.
2 thoughts on “A New Level Of Grief”
This was beautifully written and so transparent Artney. Know that you don’t always have to be strong. In our weakness is where we find God’s greatest strength. I will continue to pray for God to comfort and ease this pain. Know that you are loved!
Thank you for sharing this.
Thank you for sharing, my mother is93 and I know her time well come ,my husband and I sold our home to come and care for my mother, I feel its a real blessing, there are hard days as her short term memory is going . So sorry for your lost! I feel like you are doing great .
May God bless you,