Better Day
Dear Sisters,
Thank you so much for your constant support. When I don't feel strong enough to hold my head up, you, my sisters, give me your strength to carry on. My husband is home today, so I automatically feel better. I thought that after facing my biggest fear I would never be afraid of anything again, but I was so wrong. When he is not here I watch the clock and count down the hours until he returns. I feel so much "safer" when he is near. I have no idea why. I don't feel "safe" away from home. I am afraid of having a panic attack, or a grief attack, whatever you want to call it, away from home and people thinking I am insane. When those things happen, I have no doubt I appear insane, maybe I am insane. I am afraid of going to sleep because the waking up part is so hard...the remembering...when I first wake up, I remember. My child is gone. I am afraid of driving because of the "attacks". I am afraid of causing an accident...I am afraid of driving over a bridge while being gripped so hard by the grief I can't breathe...I am afraid I will drive off the bridge, by accident or not. I am afraid of driving into a tree r light pole for the same reasons. Sometimes I will see somrthing that triggers a memory, sometime nothing happens, I just curl up into a ball, as if my body is reflexively assuming the fetal position and it is completely out of my control. I scream, cry, hit my head...nothing helps...I just have to ride it out.
We went to visit Cassi today. A lot of work has been done on her resting place. I wanted to see it, also I just wanted to visit her, even though I know it's not really her that is buried there, but it's what I knew of her, and I feel closer to her there. We were not able to stay long because of another funeral in progress. I only got to speak a few words to her.
The work that has been done is beautiful. It's black granite...the headstone is engraved with her beautiful name, and the happiest day of my life, the day I gave birth to her. Sadly another date is engraved...the date I lost her. The slab is engraved with the poem I read at her burial service, Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep. I wish I could say that I take comfort in those words, and I suppose in a way I do...but I will stand at her grave and weep...because I miss her, because I lost the person I loved the most in the world...because my daughter suffered...suffered so much that she felt she had to end her life to escape the pain. I have many, many tears left to shed...endless tears...but today, right now, at this time, I feel better and for that I am grateful.
Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there. I did not die
Thank you so much for your constant support. When I don't feel strong enough to hold my head up, you, my sisters, give me your strength to carry on. My husband is home today, so I automatically feel better. I thought that after facing my biggest fear I would never be afraid of anything again, but I was so wrong. When he is not here I watch the clock and count down the hours until he returns. I feel so much "safer" when he is near. I have no idea why. I don't feel "safe" away from home. I am afraid of having a panic attack, or a grief attack, whatever you want to call it, away from home and people thinking I am insane. When those things happen, I have no doubt I appear insane, maybe I am insane. I am afraid of going to sleep because the waking up part is so hard...the remembering...when I first wake up, I remember. My child is gone. I am afraid of driving because of the "attacks". I am afraid of causing an accident...I am afraid of driving over a bridge while being gripped so hard by the grief I can't breathe...I am afraid I will drive off the bridge, by accident or not. I am afraid of driving into a tree r light pole for the same reasons. Sometimes I will see somrthing that triggers a memory, sometime nothing happens, I just curl up into a ball, as if my body is reflexively assuming the fetal position and it is completely out of my control. I scream, cry, hit my head...nothing helps...I just have to ride it out.
We went to visit Cassi today. A lot of work has been done on her resting place. I wanted to see it, also I just wanted to visit her, even though I know it's not really her that is buried there, but it's what I knew of her, and I feel closer to her there. We were not able to stay long because of another funeral in progress. I only got to speak a few words to her.
The work that has been done is beautiful. It's black granite...the headstone is engraved with her beautiful name, and the happiest day of my life, the day I gave birth to her. Sadly another date is engraved...the date I lost her. The slab is engraved with the poem I read at her burial service, Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep. I wish I could say that I take comfort in those words, and I suppose in a way I do...but I will stand at her grave and weep...because I miss her, because I lost the person I loved the most in the world...because my daughter suffered...suffered so much that she felt she had to end her life to escape the pain. I have many, many tears left to shed...endless tears...but today, right now, at this time, I feel better and for that I am grateful.
Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there. I did not die
Replies
That is such a beautiful poem, as Cassi is beautiful. I always stop at your page and look at those stunning blue eyes!
I do relate to your feelings - the fears, the longing, the horror. i think I mentioned before that I didn\'t like going out for quite some time. I forced myself to go because I do have a tendency to cocoon and get more depressed (as if that were possible). As first I could only stay for a short while and had to get home. Slowly I was able to go out more and stay longer. Now I enjoy going out with friends and am busy with committees. I still need to be careful to stay involved.
This grieving process is so emotional, and so raw. I wish there was an easy way to get through. But we are all on the same path and here for one another. I truly believe that I may not have survived if not for FMO.
Come and express your feelings because we are the only ones who have a clue what you are going through.
And if they think you are crazy, so be it. I have had people stare at me and now when I see someone behaving somewhat strangely, I just wonder what they are coping with.
I hope the rest of your weekend is gentle.
Love and hugs,
Marlene
Love the poem...so very true. I find it very hard to go to Billy\'s grave - make myself go at least twice a year - Birthday and Angel Day. I know it is only his body there ...his spirit is everywhere - surrounding us all every day. Especially in our heart. Hugs, Ann
These moments when the pain is not as acute are such a needed pause. Try to remember how you feel so that when you are having a painful day you will know that one of these will come along too for you to lean and rest within.
I have always loved this poem and the black granite sounds beautiful.
Embracing these moments and knowing that healing is happening even when you doubt it ever could be.
Loving care to cradle you,
XO Joanie
Yes our children are around us and with us all the time. They are at peace no pain for them. We have some job to do, what that is I am not sure but it will come to us. We have to honor them to do our work. Wishing you some peace. Love, Kathy
The black granite sounds so pretty. I saw the video on Face Book and she is so pretty. She will always be with you in spirit. You will carry her in your heart. As I just drove into the back end of a Lincoln suv...I can totally understand being overloaded with grief and not having good reflexes. Thank God, we weren\'t hurt and neither was the man in the Lincoln. Can\'t say the same for my car, but it will be fixed soon. Just try to be so very careful, when behind the wheel...
((((HUGS))))....Julia
Everything you describe: screaming in the car, generalized anxiety, panic attacks, fear of just about everything, not feeling \"safe\", being afraid of what you might do to yourself, wondering if you\'re insane because of the enormous grief....all normal. It will pass but it will take time.
I never liked being alone..... we would have our friends here or visit them constantly..... but my best friend is still tv.... I like the noise... love ya!
I don,t like being alone. Since I lost my daughter for 11 years now, I still every morning feel fear, and such anxiety I hate it. She was all I had . My whole family is dead everyone accept a sister. and my husband. and I have 2 big Rottweilers Heidi and Katie and a chawawa Spikey Doodle it all sucks to me why my only daughter. I have been through a nightmare all my life.Her husband died to of cancer 4 years before Roz. Thank God I take medication I don,t think I could take all this grief I have been through ever. Sorry to go off about it. You have your own problems to. Sorry. Bless your angel, hugs and love Mary Ann