You Are So Brave

In the beginning of my grief I would cringe when someone would say “You are being so brave.” I wasn’t being brave, I was putting on a face through my work day. I was putting on a face to my family and closest friends so I would not be a burden. Half of them did not even know or understand the internal warfare that was going on inside me, which still goes on inside me. They saw the smile, heard the laugh and saw me show up for family functions. To those that had not experienced the loss I had, they assumed I was being brave, that things were going back to normal. When in fact I was still just as broken on the inside as the day I lost her.

I am three years into the loss of my mother. It dawned on me a few days ago that in fact they were right, I was being brave. I still am being brave. Being brave doesn’t mean you don’t cry over your loss. Being brave doesn’t mean you don’t miss them daily, long for their hug and want to give anything to hear their voice. Being brave doesn’t mean you don’t have bad days or bad weeks. Being brave doesn’t mean you can’t and don’t have a complete meltdown on a holiday, birthday or anniversary. Being brave doesn’t mean you don’t want to be alone some days just to think about them. Being brave doesn’t mean you don’t miss a day from work because you might cry at the drop of a hat. None of those things define being brave or not.

Being brave means that we are still here, living our lives and choosing to keep their memory alive. Being brave means falling apart and putting ourselves back together to face another day without them. Being brave means doing the best we can each day. Being brave means reminding ourselves that we are in fact doing the best we can. Being brave means letting others know when we are broken on the inside. Being brave means allowing others to come to our side and help when the tears start to fall. Being brave means showing others and talking to others about grief and knowing that it is ok.