Happy Birthday Dear Mom…

The little peanut in the photograph below from 1928 would be 89 years old today, and was lucky (?) enough to have been my mom. Mildred Elaine Baach (later Resch) was born to Fern and Edward Baach in Austin, MN on May 10, 1928; this is her tenth birthday since she’s been gone, and I have to admit that I still haven’t gotten to the point where the happy memories outweigh the pain of missing her. Maybe if she hadn’t been so wonderful–warm, generous, funny–or if we hadn’t been so close, it might be easier…or if I didn’t have the chronic illness and depression stuff to deal with all of the time…or if we had kids, and I could feel as though the cycle of life was continuing…but then again, maybe, most likely, none of that would make any difference at all.

I think part of the reason I am posting this is that if you are moving through grief I want you to know that there is no set time limit, no arbitrary rules that say, oh, by one year (or whatever) you need to be HERE emotionally and if you aren’t then you are maudlin and creepy and just wallowing in negativity. Or, ome people might say to you, hey, you should be happy, your loved one is in heaven with Jesus, so you shouldn’t be so sad. Baloney. Even Jesus cried when Lazarus died; you can be glad your loved one is partying up in heaven, but still miss them dreadfully and feel that you’d give anything for just one more hug. Grief is an incredibly complex, difficult state of being, affects every person differently, and no one has the right to criticize you for it. (The only caveat I’d add is that if if you feel your grief slipping into clinical depression, it’s a good idea to seek professional help.)

The reality is that you will grieve forever. you will not “get over” the loss of a loved one you will learn to live with it. You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again but you will never be the same. Nor should you be the same, nor should you want to.
Elizabeth Kubler-Ross

btl_mom.birhday

Advertisement

heartache

Until my father died suddenly, on a snowy, cold January day 23 years ago yesterday, I always assumed the word “heartache” was simply a metaphor.

Now I know better. I don’t feel it every day anymore, thank goodness, but I still do, a lot more often than I’d like, as though a cold, clammy hand is squeezing my heart until it hurts. Sometimes, when I’m alone, I double over from the pain, and wail, keen, at the top of my voice. I remind myself, repeatedly, that “Blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”

I’m not trying to be maudlin, or melodramatic. Just honest about the intensity of the grief, partly because I know I am not the only one who lives with this deep aching void, even though our society doesn’t encourage us to talk about it.

And it’s good to talk about our losses, our grief. To share our stories. The pain never goes away completely, but together, we can help each other heal. Heal to the point where our memories bring us joy, not pain, and our hearts, although cracked, are even more able to love compassionately than before.

The absence of you
Carved a hole in my chest,
still aching
despite the passing of time.
If I could talk to you now,
fix my gaze upon your face,
or rest in your unwavering embrace
I wouldn’t let go,
I’d say I couldn’t get through.
Nothing could have prepared me
for the absence of you.
–Sarah Elle Emm

img_4404-1

Oblate Life

A Benedictine Oblates Take on Life

Longreads

Longreads : The best longform stories on the web

Crock Pot Chaos

It's my chaos and I'll cry if I want to. And laugh. And cackle like a lunatic. Depends on the minute.

There Will Be Bread

The intersection of faith and life.

DETAIL ORIENTED BEAUTY

All things skincare, green beauty and beyond!

doxaweb.wordpress.com/

Our every encounter leads someone toward beatitude or away from it

Minute Meditations

Presented by Benedictine University, Campus Ministry

Medievalists.net

Where the Middle Ages Begin

Reflections

We are what we think.

PTSD and beyond

The good and the bad of having an illness

Lavender and Levity

Laughing at myself, and learning to love (live with) it!

A New Day: Living Life Almost Gracefully

Photography and Thoughts About Life and Aging

Living A Fibro Life

My life with Fibromyalgia

Ramblings of a now 60+ Female

Scotland, Fibromyalgia, Sleep Apneoa, Mental Health, Endometriosis, Osteoarthritis, Nature.

Invisibly Me

Live A Visible Life Whatever Your Health

Melissa vs Fibromyalgia

loving, living and learning with chronic pain, chronic fatigue and insomnia

Women With Fibromyalgia

Fibromyalgia Support for Women

image into ikon

exploring creativity and spirituality

Being Benedictine

Jodi Blazek Gehr, Oblate of St. Benedict

Rev. Rebecca Writes

Faith. Books. Disability Awareness

%d bloggers like this: