Three Years?

Has it been three years already? 

Has it only been three years?

I’ve been saying “three years” in my head, at least, for the past year … that’s probably because my brain was including the time of the re-diagnosis and decline in that grief/trauma math.

So many people have said that I should write a book about all this. 

First, I kinda have, right? The blog served as a way to process and inform, to raise awareness and reach out… to sort it all out somehow.

But what about a how-to? A guide on grief?

Allow me to point you to the long list of such books available on Amazon. It’s akin to the number of books on parenting toddlers or finally getting your home organized. And there’s a big reason for that: Every person is different. Every grief is different. Every story is different. Every family dynamic is different. I can provide our own, personal narrative, and I can perhaps offer some words of advice to those going through a similar experience (husband dying of brain cancer, with two kiddos roughly mine’s ages), and I can provide general “get- your -$h!t- together before it hits the fan” advice, and general “don’t say this” stuff (see upcoming posts). But other than that? I can only tell you my story. Our story. How we did/do this “grief” thing.

I’m in several groups (most of them virtual) about losing a spouse, young widowhood, parenting as a widow. Some stories ring true and familiar; others seem foreign and strange. Here are some pieces of our process:

1. Dead dad jokes
2. Cussing out the dearly departed.
3. All of the drinking. Seriously. I made up for lost time in these past few years. Also vaping. Because why not be as self-destructive as possible?
4. Absent. Foggy. Depressed. Weight gain.
5. Trying to jump back into things too quickly (work)
6. One child’s faith shaken, the other drawn to asking probing questions
7. Church attendance faltering and ceasing = guilt
8. Over-indulgence ("you owe it to yourself!")
9. Rage at little inconveniences and inefficiencies
10. Pain at seeing happy couples online and in person.
11. Resentment at having to do it all on my own. Figuring out only-parenting in the digital age.


Anyway: it's been three years. For those of us on a grief journey, it seems Year Four can mark a turning point. An awakening, a move forward, a slight lift in the crushing weight of it all. I have found this to be the case in my own life; the fog has lifted, albeit ever so slightly. I'm able to see past this minute and this day, even to next week and beyond. Some changes are coming, some things are beginning, and the dread is at bay.

Now just get me through this raising teenagers thing, okay?