Several widows and widowers told my dad to keep busy and get out of the house whenever possible. That's good advice for children of the deceased as well.
My two daughters and I left the house at 11:00 this morning and didn't return home until 11:00 tonight. I can't say that I didn't think about Mom during those 12 hours, but the thoughts seemed more productive. As we were traveling in the car, the three of us talked about menstruation. (Gentlemen, if you get freaked out about this kind of stuff, you might want to jump to the next paragraph). I shared w/ my girls how sanitary napkins have changed a lot since I was a teenager, and they've really changed a lot since Grandma's (Mom's) time. She literally used rags and always talked about how embarrassed she was having to hang them out on the line after washing them. Hopefully she wouldn't be mortified w/ me sharing this now. My girls were even more shocked when I told them that Grandma (Mom) never got the "sex talk" either at home or in school so when she was pregnant w/ my oldest sibling, she had no idea how the baby was going to come out. Dad didn't know for sure either, but he assumed it would be similar to cows and horses and pigs. To be able to share those stories w/ my daughters brought them closer to their grandmother, and brought me closer to being able to talk about her w/ happiness rather than sadness.
While we were shopping, there were a couple of times when I thought about mom. The first time was seeing a woman about my age who was shopping w/ her mother. Made me sad to think I won't ever do that again, but caused me to enjoy the wonderful day that I was spending w/ my daughters. The second time I thought about Mom was when we were looking at bathroom collections and accessories. I saw a toothbrush holder in the shape of a sprinkling can, and, knowing of Mom's collection, said how much she would've liked that for her bathroom. Then we went to a high school basketball game, and I thought about how much Mom enjoyed going to all our games, plays, concerts, and programs. Somehow it felt that Mom was even closer to me now b/c I carried her w/ me all day, wherever I went.
I think getting out also keeps me from focusing too much on my own grief. I'm not the only one suffering from this loss, and I'm not the only one to have ever suffered such a loss. Writing these posts has been extremely helpful in giving words to my emotions, but it has also created a vacuum. Writing a blog about my grief runs the risk of becoming very selfish. Although each individual must go through the grieving process, we don't have to go through it individually. By letting people share the grief of her death, I can let them share the joy of her life.
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