Tag Archives: grief

It’s a no-mascara, Kleenex-carrying kind of day…

28 Dec

On a typical day, I have wardrobe drama. That’s where I stand in front of the closet trying to figure out what I’m going to wear. If it’s toward the end of the work week, it also includes wracking my brain in a desperate attempt to remember what I wore earlier in the week. Back when I was younger and more self-centered than I am now, I would tell my mom that I wanted a wardrobe change when I died. I wanted an outfit for the evening calling/visitation, and then I wanted a different outfit for the funeral the next day. My reasoning was that I didn’t want to be caught dead wearing the same outfit twice. Thankfully, I’ve grown up a lot since then.

In recent weeks, the morning drama has been more focused on whether or not to wear mascara. If the mood is good, I wear it. If there’s a possibility of tears, I don’t. After Sammy passed away, I don’t think I wore mascara for at least a year; that was a no-brainer.

Today is a no-mascara, Kleenex-carrying day. Steve and I are going to Cincinnati today for a “celebration” service for Lula, one of Sammy’s friends. I say Sammy’s friend because she and Sammy are hanging out in heaven together now and that is a great homecoming celebration. The tears and mourning are for her family and those who must now continue on without her physically present in their daily lives.

My heart breaks for broken-hearted parents because I know the pain they feel. The emotional pain is obvious to us all, but I know the physical, mental and spiritual pain that they will experience in the coming days, weeks and months, and I’m helpless to do anything about it.

Today, I will witness two parents who will show unbelievable strength and courage. It’s the same strength and courage I exhibited 3 years ago, and while they’re being strong and courageous for everyone else, I will be shedding the tears that they are trying to hold back.

Today, the mascara remains in the tube while the Kleenex doesn’t stand a chance of surviving.

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Graduation Day

23 Sep

Yesterday was graduation day, but there weren’t caps or gowns; no turning of the tassel or playing of Pomp and Circumstance.  To the rest of the world, it was just another Wednesday night, but to us it was a milestone.  Yesterday, we officially “graduated” from grief counseling.

Steve and I began meeting with a therapist two months after Sammy passed away.  Although I think we were probably doing okay at that point considering what we had been through, it seemed like a logical thing to do.

I let Steve select the therapist and make the appointment.  We met with the therapist weekly, and after the first few appointments, I just felt like it wasn’t really helping me much, although Steve was really connecting and making good strides in his mourning.  After about 6 weeks, I began to see how each session was building one upon the other and gradually I felt the sessions were making a noticeable difference.

For the next 18 months, Steve and I would continue our weekly sessions with the therapist. Occasionally, we would need to reschedule due to a conflict on the calendar, and if we missed a week, I could definitely feel it.  But in time, we began scheduling appointments for every other week, then monthly.

Participating in counseling was therapeutic and was one of the best decisions we could have ever made.  A few weeks ago, I was thinking about our sessions, and it occurred to me that we’ve been in grief counseling for 2 1/2 years.  “2 1/2 years?”  My next question to myself was, “Why are we still in therapy?”  That’s when I knew that we were ready for graduation day.

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