Living Through Loss

I was looking over my blog today to see where the top views were and saw that my poem ‘Lost One’ was at the top of the charts. Because of that, it made me think about you guys. When I lost my daughter, I felt nothing but selfishness. The only person that, I believed, could understand my pain was my husband. I know not everyone is so lucky.
Loss is selfish, stubborn. I hated the things people would say. That they understood. How could they? She wasn’t their daughter.
We were blessed, in a way, to have a family member that had lost a child of their own. I could force myself to believe them, but it was still bitterly. Loss can be thoughtless of others.
And people can be fools.
Did I mention that I hated the things that people would say?
“God needed another angel.”
Do you want me to hate God?
“You can have another.”
You think she can be replaced?
“Time will help.”
Do you think I want it to? I don’t want to forget her in anyway and, in a way, the strength of my pain and anger is a reminder of my love.
It takes a great deal to understand others. The things people say feel so thoughtless, but they want to say something. They want to help. They hurt in their own way, not the same by any means, but they’re doing what they think will help. Doing what makes them feel better.
So here is my advice to you.
Morn.
Do not quit, don’t cause the pain you’re feeling onto others with a harsh decision.
Cry.
Explore what you need and, if you have a significate other, be understanding of how they’re handling it.
Perhaps you need to bury yourself in work, talk about them, don’t talk about them… but above all else, remember them.
Wait a year before making any permanent decisions.
Keep hope.
Yes, hope of any kind. Hope that you’ll see your loved one again. Hope that your friend will be over to visit. Hope that the food you’re forcing yourself to make will turn out alright.
If this just happened to you, I can imagine the feeling still. That is one thing you’ll never loose. The icy cold grip on your whole body. You can almost feel the struggle of your heart beating, taking in a breath. Feeling stunned that the rest of the world is still there. Seeing that other people are still living their life like normal, it’s unbelievable.
But know we are out here. We who were left behind. People who have felt some of the things you’re feeling. Maybe not everything, no one can feel exactly the same about something, but we are here. I’m willing to listen. I know others are as well. Email me if you need that anonymous person to rant to, remember with, to talk about them. I will listen.
I’ll help as best I can.

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