If I could tell people something, tell them what is true, what is true about grief and love and loss, something they do not know, or can’t know, what would it be?
Waking every morning is like experiencing the loss all over again. As I come into consciousness, the last 3 years, the last days of her life and the finality of her death, all rush in as if it just happened yesterday. I open my eyes to a world that she is no longer part of and this reality feels too hard to bear.
Grief is VERY lonely. There are days when my phone is silent and it makes me think that everyone has forgotten this awful thing that happened. That they (you) are all moving on with life while I cannot. If you think about texting or emailing or calling, do it. Even if I don’t answer, know that hearing from you makes a difference. I understand that you don’t know what to say, so here are some ideas: “I’m thinking of you”, “I know you are hurting and I’m sorry”. And please don’t be offended if I don’t answer, or if my answer is brief. I also, don’t know what to say.
Even though I am out of bed and somewhat presentable, it still feels like I am dying inside. I’m doing my best to show up for life and it’s challenging. What you don’t see are the private tears and the fact that I stayed in bed for 2 hours after waking up. Grief is hard, hard work.
by 
It’s so interesting to me that you talk about grief being lonely: Doug and I lost a dear friend three years ago this week and, in talking to another friend about how we were doing, I marveled that Doug and I were really doing it separately
I told her: “They say you’re born alone and you die alone, but I think you also grieve alone. Doug and I are in the same house and we are doing this as separate exercises, almost independent of each other.”
This friend – who had lost a child at age 5 to cancer, agreed. She said that you can have tons of support, but that the hard work of it is a very solitary thing.
So, if it is that way for you – in the solitude, please know that I am supporting.
That’s helpful and makes sense. Thank you.
M – I just read this again. The line: “I also don’t know what to say” struck me. I don’t think anyone has every recognized that – or stated that – before. If this is about those who have experienced loss at this level and those who haven’t (yet?) – I don’t think it’s occurred to “us” that words are going to fail “you” as well. Maybe we need better language for grief. Can it be put into words?
I think we absolutely need better language for grief. Our culture is pretty grief illiterate. I see this in the sympathy cards we get… they say the same things over and over. But, yes, when I am talking with someone about this loss, this grief, it’s hard for me to find the words that will adequately describe what it’s like. I think that’s part of what I’m hoping to do with this writing group- find words for the grief.