I read a blog post today that shook me deep. Her name is Stacie Lewis, she writes her half-brained daughter’s story here and also writes for BabyCenter.com. The story I read today from Mama Lewis is titled: “I lost at the Grieving Mother Competition”.
Mama Lewis has the courage to share with the world the stories of her daughter, May. May is four. Four years ago, she had a traumatic birth which left her severely brain damaged. Some of Stacie’s readers on Baby Centre felt entitled enough to judge. Judge how she is dealing, living and grieving a full-brained child.
For many years, I have quarrelled with quantifying and qualifying grief. Aside from losing a young cousin and uncle in a horrific car accident over 10 years ago, death has not been my main source of grief. Yet, I have gone through it several times. Over the same issues. Some would say one should only go through the grieving process once. True? No. Grief is one of the very few things in life which is indescribable to others and only the grieved understand the level of pain.
One of my dearest friend, now family, has lost many animals. She requested I accompany her to the vet with two of her beloved cats when they became ill and life was not worth it for them. I watched her closely after these two losses as I knew she was in deep grief. When losing someone or something cherished and loved, there must be grief, hurt, sorrow. Those are wonderful feelings. The feelings of pain from losing is God’s way of building us. Those are necessary and embraceable feelings. Once the last phase of grieving has passed and the sun begins shining again. One can look back and embrace the wonderful memories. It is wonderful to think: to feel such pain, there had to be tremendous love. This is the case for my friend and her heavenly animals.
Another dear friend lost an adult daughter, a grand daughter and a husband in the span of three short years. The grief from those events is most definitely not quantifiable nor qualifiable. But, in such situation, the grieving must go on. Not only would my friend grieve her beloved family but the plans she had made for the future and any other changes that ensued from these losses. It is truly, a continuous grieving process. With faith in her Lord, my friend has conquered the unimaginable. Although she may never be the same, God has a plan for her, it is the best and only plan.
I have watched people throughout my life. My grand mother lost a 17 year old daughter. She is still grieving. I am not judging. Others are grieving an education; a dream house; angel babies; failed relationships. The world is grieving, continuously. It is our survival. A way to go on carrying our burdens.
I like to think I am nearing the last phase of my grieving process. I have accepted my childhood. I am learning to accept the lack of parental and unconditional love. Each day, I appreciate more what I have now, as a mother and a wife, and not regretting what I could have had or I could have been. I like to think I am raising my children to be human beings with the values I would like to have been taught and it is definitely helping closing the chapter.
Unlike death, which is final, my grieving process can easily rewind to beginning credits and bring me back to the gut-wrenching, open, bleeding wound, with only a phone call or lack thereof. I am getting stronger, as time goes, and I don’t let the reel go back so far.
I am seriously losing at the Grieving Competition. But it is my race. As long as I finish it, I have won.
M.