Friday, February 9, 2007

Sometimes I still cry

Well, it’s been over two years now and I still find myself crying over my mom’s passing. (I also find myself still crying over my Maizee’s passing and it’s been almost a year now. I loved that damn dog) Is this normal? Or am I just a sentimental freak? I don’t really know. There are so many questions left unanswered.

Sometimes I’m sad because I don’t feel sad, but sometimes I cry because I miss the lost relationship (however dysfunctional it might have been), even after two years I still find myself reaching for the phone to call my mom to talk about things that are bothering me (I’m a bit dysfunctional on my own!). So what else is there? What happens when I’m all that’s left?? No brothers, sisters, mother, father, grandpa, grandma? The reality is a bit unsettling.


Kolla said...

Awww.... well you still got your friends that love you like family!
I know it's not the same, but we make up for it by sharing some of the same disfunctions :)

Anonymous said...

It's absolutely NOT dysfunctional. These are are NORMAL aspects of grief. They are difficult enough to go through so don't add worry to what is normal much less a label of dysfunctional.(Okay, you might think that's the Grief Recovery Therapist point of you in me and you'd be accurate in terms of grief theory but that's not where I first learned about what's normal in profound grief.) The thought that arrives, cueing you to call your Mom and talk to her about something important is something I still experience and my Mom died 32 years ago. It also happens frequently regarding my sister who died 10 years ago. I believe we never lose the need to talk to our Mother's or our dogs or our sisters no matter whether it's been 2 years or 32 years since you could actually do that. I firmly believe that one of the best things you can do (rather than what you can no longer do) is go ahead and "talk" to your Mom either out loud or through journal writing. When you write the words, "Dear Mom...." you might be surprised at what starts to appear on the page and the level that your need to connect with her can actually be met. Two years after my Mom died I wrote an entire story which allowed for spending an entire day with my Mom. Yes, it was fiction, kind of like the famous play "Our Town" but in terms of what it gave me, it was truely powerful, almost as if we had actually been together (perhaps because, energetically, we had been together.) I told her everything I needed to tell her about my life at that time and the whole "visit" was written in dialogue form. So I got to receive what she needed to say to me in response to things I shared and questions I asked. You might not "click" with this idea, but do it your way and "make the phone call", so to speak. Well, that's probably a long enough comment for a blog response even though I have additional thoughts related to your dear Maizee and your wonderings about the reality of the future without blood relatives. I would piggy back Kolla's thought by saying, that's why "a family of the heart" can be so important. You can always have that family of the heart in your
dearest friends and the family that has embraced you as a daughter and a niece and a cousin. It's never a replacement. It's just a blessing.

Love, Mama Linda

Anonymous said...

As an only child who is now in my 50's, I lost both parents long ago. One under sudden health circumstances. The other after being estranged for many years, and literally discovering his passing.
Grief takes many forms, and some of those forms inspired me to "correct" my life as I grow older. My writing about them or musing, or even dreaming, helped me to "know" my parents much more as people with their own difficult life stories.
As I continued to work through my past, it was clear that the most important thing I could do for myself was to cultivate a "family of the heart", where give and take is mutually exchanged, solving some of the problems that weren't solved with my family of origin. Because of my choices for myself and the family of the heart, life lessons now have the clear possiblity of bringing about a trusted, loving outcome.
In some ways that still keeps the grief alive for what was not. But in other ways, it feels like life has become what I wanted it to be in the first place.
Love, Frister Bert

lara kiyomi said...

I cry my ass off about my dad all the time and it's been nearly 15 years.

My family's almost gone too, but I still have my big sister Sandy :)

jennifer said...

I still cry over my mom too Sandy. I think of all the things she's missing with my new baby. Great! I'm tearing up now as I'm writing this! I still talk to her regularly and I miss her more than anything. I think it's healthy to be sad and cry sometimes...I feel her most when I'm outside in nature...don't know why...but I know she's there and I'll see her again.