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Having an Everyday Conversation
Often I find myself apologizing for talking about my deceased daughter. I’m so conscious of the discomfort of others that I tend to say “I'm sorry” after I bring my personal heartache into a conversation.
Masking Our Grief
In the early days after your child dies, it can be quite clear to the outside world what stage of grief you are in - shock, anger, etc. But as times passes, they see us functioning again, maybe even having a laugh. Do they think we're "over it"? We learn to hide our grief behind a mask.
Words I'll Never Get Used To
I had a ban on all terminology that conveyed death and loss. Saying “my daughter died” was literally impossible. But so was using the phrase “my daughter passed away” or “we lost our daughter”. I avoided phrases such as “I almost died…” or “I would kill for…” or “I died when…”.
If I Were A Pilot, I'd Ground Myself
Over the last 17 months, there is no way I could have performed any task that required any extensive level of thought. My thinking process is skewed, my thoughts are random and unfocused.
A Great Injustice Has Been Done
I write to today for the surviving children, to honor their grief, to acknowledge their pain and to bring recognition to their plight.
I don’t seem to have a sense of control, pinging from one emotion to the next, feeling and unfeeling all at once. It is an uneasy, disturbed sensation in the background of my emotions that makes me feel unmanageable. I’ve been trying to put my finger on it and it has eluded me. Until today.
The Physical Effects of Grief
We are working so hard to manage our emotions that our bodies suffer. The physical elements of grief are serious and sneak up on us without our knowledge because we are so mentally consumed in our heartache. It is so important that we be aware that grief can make us sick.
I Am Wailing
It’s now a year and a half since her death and I feel the anguish as real today as I did that very first horrific day. I am wailing still and imagine I always will.
We Are Not Who We Used to Be
We are not the people we used to be nor will we ever be again. No longer do we look at life the same. There is a shadow, a darkness that envelops all that we see.
Being with Other Bereaved Parents
I find myself feeling less and less like I fit in to the mainstream world. After my daughter died, my reality capsized. I now look at life through a dark set of glasses. It’s not rosy. It’s not happy. It’s not balanced.
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