Wednesday, December 21, 2011
A Fresh Start and Merry Christmas
I started this blog a few years ago when I was still grieving over the death of my only daughter Ann. When I started this, she had already been dead for several years so it was not a fresh event. The time passage however was still short and it was to serve as a way to post stuff that I felt, events that reminded me of her and the loss her death brought to me as I could see my walk towards the fall of my own life.
A couple of weeks ago I came to the realization that after 19 years the death anniversary date was no longer the stinging pain of old. I had reached the point where I could speak of her, think about “what ifs” of life and mention her to others as my daughter that was no longer here among us.
This is a huge step in the evolution of grief, acceptance. It comes at the time of year that we reserve as a way to bring in a new year based on our religious belief as either a Christian in the celebration of Christmas or the non-religious belief of the passing of the sun when the days start getting longer, the winter solstice.
To this day I can say Merry Christmas, and not have it tear a chunk out of my heart. The memories of her are still there, that chunk that has been ripped out many years ago is still looking scared by all the rips and tears, but it’s now mine to keep hold of and look at with eyes not misted by pain but of memories.
Merry Christmas everyone and Merry Christmas Ann.
A couple of weeks ago I came to the realization that after 19 years the death anniversary date was no longer the stinging pain of old. I had reached the point where I could speak of her, think about “what ifs” of life and mention her to others as my daughter that was no longer here among us.
This is a huge step in the evolution of grief, acceptance. It comes at the time of year that we reserve as a way to bring in a new year based on our religious belief as either a Christian in the celebration of Christmas or the non-religious belief of the passing of the sun when the days start getting longer, the winter solstice.
To this day I can say Merry Christmas, and not have it tear a chunk out of my heart. The memories of her are still there, that chunk that has been ripped out many years ago is still looking scared by all the rips and tears, but it’s now mine to keep hold of and look at with eyes not misted by pain but of memories.
Merry Christmas everyone and Merry Christmas Ann.
Thursday, December 08, 2011
For me its Nineteen Years
The other day, specifically Tuesday December 6, I was sitting somewhere in the house towards the end of the day reflecting on what the day was and what the future was to be. As I sat there, it suddenly hit me, DECEMBER 6, Oh my god you dolt, did you forget what day this is? It hit me like a bag of feathers. Heavy feathers, but feathers none the same. Using my highly perfected engineering tools, aka my fingers, I quickly determined that it has been nineteen years since the death of my one and only daughter, my youngest child, my Princess. And then that revelation hit me with an equal force that I didn’t shake from that thought having missed the date. I sat there, smiled as I looked back on not what the date meant, but on what was the subject of the date. My daughter and her life. As the few posts in this blog attest, the subject of this has been her death and its impact on me in all that I do, am and was once. But here I am nineteen years later able to think of it in the quiet of mind thoughts smiling not at her death but at her life.
I always knew this day would come, or well, I was hoping that this day would come, but parts of me didn’t want it to come, fearful of lessening her memory or worse, fearful of losing her memory altogether. But here it is, nineteen years later and I can genuinely smile past her death as I look only back on her life.
I always knew this day would come, or well, I was hoping that this day would come, but parts of me didn’t want it to come, fearful of lessening her memory or worse, fearful of losing her memory altogether. But here it is, nineteen years later and I can genuinely smile past her death as I look only back on her life.
