An old friend from long ago asked me today if I was alone in the world now?
I think the answer depends on how you look at it. It’s true, my family consists of 2 folks well (well) into their 80’s. One is my mother and she has dementia. I also have a 1/2 cousin I consider more of a friend (a very good friend) than a cousin, and another cousin I don’t know well. All of them, other than my mother, live several states away.
Death is a concept that feels distanced to most of us; something that seems far away and avoidable. But, the reality is that death happens without warning. No matter how old or young you are, you will never be able to truly prepare for loss.
The thought that one day the people we share our lives with will no longer be there is impossibly deliberating. Of course, any loss is difficult to process, but the loss of your significant other is uniquely painful.
When our hearts have been hit, loneliness begins to invade. Every relationship is unique. No wonder grief is lonely.
FROM THE GRIEVING HEART:
People seem shy around me. And no one mentions you. Why is that?
Are they worried about upsetting me? I’m already upset.
I’m playing catch up as I took last week off to travel to beautiful Sedona, Arizona with my mom and daughter, for the first Ellie’s Way Getaway. It was an amazing week filled with adventure and discovery.
During our time together in Arizona, we were able to meet those online friends that have become family, those who have helped us and encouraged us through our grief. The ones we can be authentic with and share our deepest pain. It was magical.
This Mothers’ Day I’m thinking about not only my mom, “Beazy,” but also about my one-in-a-million grand mom, Nana! Both will be celebrating the day in Heaven. I wonder, since we know there will be no sadness, carb counting or keto craziness in heaven~ what if they will celebrate the day with one of Nana’s killer 6 layer chocolate cakes?! Is that cake making your mouth water right now, too?
When loss strikes, our lives are forever altered. We don't like this new life. Someone we love is missing.
FROM THE GRIEVING HEART:
I don’t like this new life. I want a life with you back in it. I miss talking to you. I want to hear your voice — not a voicemail, but your real voice. I want you here, now.
So, why do I write about my grief?
