Don't Tell Me

PLEASE, don't tell me you know how I feel. If you don't know how it feels to lose a loved one to a sudden accident or uncontrollable disease, you DON'T know how I feel. I lost the one who had the awesome privilege to give life to me, granted by the giver of life, Himself.

PLEASE, for the moment, don't ask me how I feel. I truly don't know. My mind, like the storm that took her life, is blowing in a hundred different directions.

PLEASE, don't urge me to talk about it. I need to talk and I'll do so when I feel I'm ready. When that time comes, I need someone who is willing to LISTEN.

PLEASE, if you're willing to listen, don't compare my loss to one you've suffered. For now, my compassion is as dry as my faith. Unconditional compassion is listening without judgement (listening, NOT talking) and enduring the sight of my tears without telling me, "It's going to be ok." Nothing seems ok when you lose a loved one without the chance to say goodbye.

PLEASE, forgive me if I seem lost and depressed. It's not a way of life. It's not who I really am. It's my state of mind and my way of healing.

PLEASE, take the time to let me know you'll be there if I need you to be and don't avoid me out of fear that you may say the wrong thing.

PLEASE, don't tell me, "She's with God now" or "She's in a better place." In time, I'll realize this on my own that Heaven IS the better place but for now, I'm selfish and I want her here with me. In my heart I know that NO ONE loves her more than God does, yet the daughter in me struggles with this knowledge.

PLEASE, don't tell me that my experience is not unique. I already know this but it IS real and, like my feelings, it's painfully raw so be gentle with my fragile heart.

PLEASE, don't tell me I'm wrong for my lack of faith. I'm having trouble seeing evidence of God in all this and my faith is hidden by feelings of intense anger.

PLEASE, don't pity me. I need understanding and compassion and I need time to cry, NOT your pity. I need you to be a shoulder that I can cry on and a heart that feels when mine seems broken.

PLEASE, don't tell me that the time for mourning is over. I didn't stop being a daughter or loving my momma when she died. I don't believe that the "Laws of Grief" exist or that they are written in stone like God's Ten Commandments. I will grieve in my own personal way and will arrive at a place of healing in my own time.

PLEASE, pray for me and my family.


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About the Author
I am the middle child of 7, born to Mary E. Howell. I have 2 sons (ages 17 and 31). I am a single mother who enjoys writing and nature photography. I am an extremely patriotic Christian who cannot listen to our national anthem without shedding a few tears of pride. I enjoy people but I relish my moments of solitude, moments I can call my own, moments of soul-searching. My future goals include getting my writing published and making my love of nature photography a source of a second income.
Helping The Bereaved