It's ok to Ask...

It’s ok to ask if we are ok, but we are not ok.

It’s incredibly hard to put into words how we feel. Here is a description that might paint a picture. Imagine if someone brought a bomb to your home, it went off and after the initial shockwaves were over you ran around assessing the damage for two weeks, took care of the immediate damage while others flocked to you and helped you and then everyone leaves and you are there in the midst of the blast zone trying to pick up the pieces and work, and make dinner, and take care of your pets, and worry about alllllll the other people who were in the blast zone and try to help take care of them and you, and your spouse, and your house, and your yard, and your life. All while living in a crater that used to be your life. There is an eerie silence which is thick. There is an awkwardness to it all. It’s clunky, difficult to discuss, and sometimes a little scary. How do put this back together? What does this new life look like? How do we grieve for the same death in different ways, with different coping mechanisms, and how do we help our other kids to heal? How do we hold back the resentment we have for the lives of others which look to be filled with trips, activities, and rest while ours is filled with grieving, struggling, and restlessness? Everything feels hollow.

I laughed at your joke, that was fake.

We went out to eat and sat at a table and had good food and conversed. That was forced.

I was hospitable to you. That was out of duty.

Let’s be real, I am saying the things you aren’t supposed to say. I’m pulling back the veil and revealing the truth. Seems to be the way I cope. If you don’t like it, look away. If it hits your sensibilities wrong…you haven’t felt this kind of loss and this writing is not for you, move along.

Chris and I are grieving differently and different things. We are trying to share those things with each other as well as we can. We are seeing grief counselors together and separately. We are encouraging our kids to do the same, and they are.

Going through the motions, picking up the pieces, living in a blast zone, converting grief to mourning, and then back to grief, and then back to mourning. That’s how we are. Please don’t give up on us. Please don’t stop asking us to go, one day we will say yes. Please don’t stop asking if we are ok, it let’s us know you are thinking of us and care. We will say…”We are ok”. But we are not now, nor will we ever be, fully ok. We will be healed. We will convert grief to mourning, but we will be forever changed.