Checking email is a part of a normal morning routine. Collapsing on the kitchen floor into an emotional mess, is not.
At my age, news of parents passing should not be something I should be dealing with. Death is something my group of girl friends from high school is becoming undesirably familiar with.
We have had grandparents pass.
Parents.
And a child.
Death is a part of life. But is doesn’t make it easier.
The sudden loss of a parent comes with an indescribable pain. It pierces your soul. It rips your heart apart and your soul comes screaming out with a force so strong your body just fails.
You start thinking about every minor detail of your life that you haven’t told them. For me, it wasn’t just minor details. Maybe that makes it harder.
Picking up the pieces, finding the will to just go, becomes a primal instinct, a flight or fight response.
My mom died 3 years ago. I was 10 weeks pregnant. I was waiting to tell her in person. The plan was to drive over for a surprise visit and tell her in person on Saturday. She died 6 days before.
This is different, they had a little bit of warning, but that doesn’t help the grieving process.
Grief of a parent is life long.
When something good happens, it is there.
When your child does something funny, sweet, milestones, birthdays.
When your child is misbehaving
When you’re at church
When your friend tells you that their mom is gone too.
I know that this weekend, isn’t about me and my grief. It isn’t about me and my missed opportunities. It is about Merri, and her grief. Her missed opportunities.
But I will be hurting too.