Years have passed since my daughter’s death, and I thought it would be easier than this.
The intense grief during those early days and months made it feel like I couldn’t survive this loss. Yet I saw people in support groups who’d lost loved ones years before who seemed okay. They looked almost “normal” again and told me it wouldn’t always be like this. “You learn to live with the pain, and it will lessen over time.”
They said I’d eventually find happiness again, and I’d create a “new normal.”
And they were right.
It’s been years of hard work to soften my grief. Counselors and support groups were a huge help for me. I looked for ways to express my pain so it wouldn’t consume me. I volunteered my time with The Compassionate Friends and created my own grief support website.
Along the way, I’ve given myself permission to smile once more and allowed joy to enter my heart again. I have consciously tried to focus my energies on remembering my daughter’s life rather than only looking at the pain her death has brought.
And yet grief remains a constant part of my life.
Grief is fickle, unpredictable, and indifferent to whatever mood I’m in.
Most days my grief lies dormant under the activities of everyday life. Little triggers continually remind me its there. Triggers like a sad news story on the TV or a girl at the park who reminds me of my daughter. But I can go about my regular routines with no interruptions.
Other times, the triggers are bigger. In those cases, the grief bubbles up and takes over my mood. Tears well up behind my eyes, ready to release at the first opportunity. My patience seems to evaporate and everyday tasks become cumbersome, meaningless, and even difficult. Usually the bursts of grief from larger triggers only last a few hours or at most a few days.
But sometimes it lingers and grows.
Years after her death, I didn’t expect to encounter triggers that make me feel like a return to the debilitating early days of grief.
Feelings of sadness, pain, lethargy, and dis-interest in things I normally enjoy. Going to work becomes a struggle. Even taking care of my kids feels like a burden.
I know these periods require extra attention and care. I navigate through them best I can, asking for support along the way. I just wonder if these episodes will ease over time, or if I should just expect them to become a permanent fixture of my “new normal” life?
If the death of my daughter has taught me anything – and it has taught me A LOT – it’s that we have more inner strength than we can ever imagine. And with time, attention, and support, we can navigate through just about anything life might throw at us.
This website was inspired by the memory of Margareta Sol Kubitz in hopes of helping others work through the pain of grief.
Hello Maria – I found your site in the past couple weeks, can’t remember how, but am thankful. My pain and emptiness feels overwhelming today. I lost my 42 year old daughter, Robin, on Feb. 3rd. She had a surgical procedure and a blood clot to the lung took her away from me 5 days later. She leaves behind a wonderful husband and three beautiful daughters, 9, 6, and 4 years old. We are all Christians and know where she is and that we’ll see her again someday. I believe all that, however, while I’m still here I hope I can stand this torturous hurt. This grief thing is all over the place. I know I can’t run away, change my identity, be someone else…but if I could, and the pain wouldn’t follow…I just might. Did you ever feel this way? We are all in therapy, individual and group, and it does help.
Laverna – I’m so sorry for your loss. You are right that grief is “all over the place” in the months after losing your beloved daughter. I don’t know that I ever thought of changing my identity, but certainly wanted to run away from the suffocating pain. In that first year, I often had thoughts that the only escape from the pain would be my own death. But the thought of putting my family – especially my other children – through the added torture of losing me was enough to keep me from ever coming close to trying to act on those thoughts. My only advice is to keep doing what you’re doing. We all have to find our own way of healing and come to our own understanding of how our loss has fundamentally changed us. If you ever need to talk to someone who has been down this path as well, you can always feel free to email me at support [at] aliveinmemory.org. Take care, Maria
Wow, this website has really kept me in engaged during bouts of i don’t know what. I lost my fiance 28th of November 2016, and since then since seemed to get better. And like a slap in the dark one moment i can be just doing okay and the next moment crawling in all kinds of pain all over my body. My digestive system does somersaults from fine to down right feeling like my stomach has been turned inside out, and don’t get me started with the head aches that seem to come from no where. I think i am numbed emotionally. Putting on a strong facade instead of challenging myself to feel. Lately i have been questioning the why in the whole process. Looking to blame myself for taking a step towards marriage… In my own mind i should have been able to side step this and not go through this whole thing. Its so scary, and lonely most of the time. 🙂 Thank you for the courage to share your pain