When I saw this sculpture - before I knew what it was - I knew it was me. It took my breath away. The pain is tangible. I feel this.
I posted the sculpture on Facebook a week or so ago. And then I thought about it - thought about my kids - wondered if they think that the depth of my grief diminishes them in any way. So, I wrote the following - for them. One read it and thought it was "okay" - the kind of post people post when they want people to tell them how brave they are - how strong. Knowing my oldest, I was not in the least insulted. I'm pretty sure he knows that I would not post something for that purpose. (Pretty sure) :-)
To the best of my knowledge, the other son never read it.
An exercise in futility. Oh well.
Here it is.
Just something I need to say. Thanks for your patience.
Although my reaction to the sculpture below that was in a previous post, (“Emptiness”- Original artist : Albert György - Bronze Statue located at Lake Geneva, Switzerland) was immediate and visceral, I think it's important to say that "bereaved parent" is not all that I am. There is (and always will be) an empty place in my life where Greg used to be. He was a big part of my daily life and I miss him every day (sometimes more than I think I can bear). I read that it takes months - and even years to fully grasp the full extent of the loss of a child. I'm finding that to be true.
Having said that... I have two other extraordinary sons and 8 remarkable grandchildren who infuse a huge amount of love and joy into my life. (and yes... don't forget those daughters-in-law)
Sitting at a sporting event, or a dance recital - a play or a concert - or even in my own living room (or theirs), I am constantly amazed at the talents and abilities of these wonderful grandchildren. I'm in awe at their kindness, their tender hearts (some more tender than others), their humor, their strength and determination (bullheadedness and competitiveness?) - all of the things that make them who they are - and each one different from the others. Being in the same room with any of them is fascinating, joyful... and healing.
My life is a roller coaster - especially at this time of year. There are moments of horrible sadness (grief has a life of its own) when the emptiness is debilitating. But there are also top-of-the mountain highs when I get a hug - or an "I love you" - or a text message from a grandchild (my favorite... "I love you so so so so so so so so much"). I cherish the rummy games, the sports events, and the occasional dinners together. I love the "thinking about you" phone calls or text messages from my kids. I love the the pictures and videos sent to me when I can't be there. I am determined to be emotionally present at every opportunity for joy. (Sometimes I'm more successful than others)
This "bereaved parent" thing is worse than anything I could have imagined. There are days it's difficult to even speak, but I won't let it be all there is to my life.
I am grateful for my children, my grandchildren, my daughters-in-law, and for faithful friends who have been so generous with their love and support - and for Michael who is there for me all day, every day.
God is good!
Some of it is heartfelt - some is wrapped in positivity for the my children. More days than not, I couldn't have written it.
God IS good. There have been days when I've felt wrapped in God's arms - and days I can't find Him. I don't always "feel" God's goodness, but I know, in my head (and some days in my heart) that He is good. That will have to do for now.
Some of it is heartfelt - some is wrapped in positivity for the my children. More days than not, I couldn't have written it.
God IS good. There have been days when I've felt wrapped in God's arms - and days I can't find Him. I don't always "feel" God's goodness, but I know, in my head (and some days in my heart) that He is good. That will have to do for now.
