Death Sucks

I interrupt this season of thankfulness to rid myself of angst. I am going to be as real as I can because I need to be. Death sucks ass. I don't mean for the ones who died, I mean for the ones left behind. I do believe that I will go to Heaven when I die, but this blog isn't about my spiritual side. I firmly believe that a relationship with Jesus Christ is how you get to Heaven. I firmly believe that many of my relatives had that and I will see them again. This blog is about my physical side. The one that got left behind and now has what feels like a big rock sitting in my heart. The one that is this close to tears every day, just waiting for that one thing to set me off. The side that prays when I do go off, people won't look at me like I've lost my mind.

The grief is overwhelming at times. It just swamps me, like a tidal wave. Have you ever been sucked down by a wave? I have. The summer I was 10 we went to Hawaii. My cousins taught me to body surf. They also said not to get too comfortable on the wave. I did, and it sucked me down. Straight down. I had no idea which way was up or which way was down. I couldn't see anything but churning water and sand, and none of it clearly. I tumbled and bumbled and I didn't know how to get out of the wave. When I thought I my lungs would explode, the wave spit me out. I skidded up the beach, sand scraping me, reminding me not to get too comfortable again. That's how grief is. It sucks you in and you can't breathe because of it. Then, when you can't catch your breath, it spits you out onto the beach and scrapes you and makes you raw and buries itself in places you didn't even know you had.

I hate it. I hate that my mom is gone. I hate that my kids didn't have more time with her. I hate that it's Thanksgiving and I can't call her to talk about our meal. I hate it, I hate it, I HATE IT!!

I have several friends that have recently lost loved ones. Fathers, grandmothers, great aunts that were like grandmothers, and a son. We all grieve differently. For me, I feel like if I start, I may not stop. Some days I just want a quiet house, a bubble bath, and some serious crying time. I need to purge, but I don't do that well with other people. Truth be told, even though I have cried in front of and with my children, I'm scared if they see me like that, it would scare them. My heart aches for my friends and what they must be feeling. I wish that they never had to go through this.

Being human, I know that what we miss is the physical. We miss the voice and the touches. I miss the sly remarks and the twinkle of trouble in my mom's eye. I miss her laugh. I miss her hugs. I miss her. This side of me wants her back! This side of me wants to kick Mom's doctors in the ass. This side of me wants everyone to shut up about how she's in a better place. I know she is, that isn't the problem. The problem is that I don't want her there. I want her here! But I know I can't have her here.

I am thankful for my blessings. I am thankful that I have a wonderful husband, loving children, and a nice home. I'm thankful that we will have a special meal together that was prepared by all the hands in this home. I am thankful. But, I have this other side...