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My beautiful Queen went to sleep nine years ago on December 6th. Around a year later, I got online to share her story for those needing advice and hope. My mama wasn't on any medication, extremely strong. She only ached at times from arthritis. The side effects of her eye surgery are what eventually led to dementia. It started as Sundowner's.
When you experience grief, it shapes your understanding of what it is. And even "understanding" it ... there are still moments when you're trying to figure it out. Though I think of her every day, it's the last quarter of the year where my fight with grief has to be a little more strategic, knowing those flashbacks are bound to ring aloud.
The Heart Remembers.
A couple of years after she had gone to sleep, I learned just how the heart remembers. I was taking a nap when suddenly I woke up feeling like I couldn't breathe. Fast forward ... the doctor told me it was a panic attack. 'Panic attack? I never have those!' It had dawned on me...we had entered the last quarter of the year and though I was strategically trying not to focus on the flashbacks...trying to control the mood of my heart by trying to force my mind to think of something else ... well, my heart decided it was up for a challenge of tug-of-war. While I was taking a nap, it remembered what time of year it was.
The Flashbacks.
Overall, just the moments of her being in and out of the hospital, hearing that she didn't have long, and pleading with God when hospice was assigned to come to our home that he make a miracle happen..."Please?!" I would beg.
She had been in a coma for days and hadn't said a word. I didn't know she heard me crying, telling my husband how much I wanted her so badly. Eyes still closed, she said the comforting words as clear as ever,
"You're gonna be alright, sweetheart."
I knew I didn't want her to worry. I hurried by her side and grabbed her hand.
"Hey, mommy! We love you. You are so right. You raised me to be strong and I will. We are right here by your side. Our Heavenly Father will help us through this."
She replied, "As long as you know that, baby."
My husband held my hand as he prayed. She always loved to ask him to say a prayer. She would say it comforts her.
I still remember how big she was smiling even when she didn't open her eyes, at the sounds of my babies' voices.
Healing.
It's an ongoing process. There are plenty of moments I laugh at funny things Mama said. She was always super proud of me. I am still encouraged by the jewels she shared with me, beautiful jewels I get to own in my heart and share with my beautiful children. The blessing of my family helps me to be strong. Also, the prayers that Mama prayed.
Jewel For Today.
Grief doesn't go away, you just learn how to deal with it. It's not something we move on from; it’s something we learn to carry. It lingers, showing up in the most unexpected moments. A song, a smell, or even a quiet moment can bring the memories flooding back. Give yourself grace in those tougher moments. It’s okay to feel deeply. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to miss them endlessly.
I have shared the story of losing my two unborn babies. That's a deep pain. So deep that I don't know if I want to share the story online anymore. That goes for Mama's story also. I've shared it. I'm open to encouraging anyone who needs it; however, what I've already shared of her story can help those who need it.
Unborn or a life well lived - the grief remains. Your grief is valid, and your feelings are real. There’s no timeline, no right or wrong way to grieve.
I hope you know you’re not alone. And in sharing our stories, even if to just a few over dinner; we find connection, healing, and hope.
(To my cousins who have been met with recent grief - I love you.)
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