I know you are sick of hearing it. I am too.
I had some lovely comments about my Adoption Special Day post yesterday. I kept bright and breezy all day. Having known it was coming, I guess I mentally prepared for it and then blogged it out.
Last night, I felt so alone. My husband lay next to me in bed engrossed in his book and I broke my heart, sobbing and feeling so unwanted and unloved. He did not reach out to me once. Obviously time is up on the grief thing for him. He has always set times for getting over things. I don’t work like that, perhaps too much ruled by my emotions.
Most days I am OK but today has ended up being sad on the whole. It is Tuesday which means it is older person’s lunch day at the community centre. Dad is dead and I don’t qualify for it without him with me. We used to have our lovely 2 course warm meal and put the world to rights. He was always interested in what I had to say or, if not, was a really good actor. Either way, I felt of interest. Who is interested now?
Of course, you get on because you have to. The children are dispatched to school and picked up later. You function rather than live. Online friends old and new keep your sanity on an even keel. With a hour to kill whilst an after-school club takes place, you head to town with your daughter for some retail therapy. It helps a bit but it still hurts that there is nobody to report to when you return home.
There is loads of good stuff, of course there is. It is just that there is nobody to share it with anymore.
Yes it is self-pity, yes I should get over it and please return to the first sentence.
Kate on Thin Ice 
Aw sweetie, feel comforted knowing some people are out here listening and feeling for you xxx
Thank you and a reminder that even in the saddest of times I have found angels like you.
I never realised how much I needed my Dad until he died! I have always been closer to my Mum but turns out I was just a close to Dad, just in a different way. He died 3 years ago and I often still have a sob about it. Husband is a bit like yours (maybe its a man thing) and doesn’t understand how people can still be grieving years later. But everyone deals with things differently. Have no magic wand to make you happy but its ok to be sad too xx
I guess by being sad we acknowledge the person and the love. Thank you.
That sentence “You function rather than live.” I think sums up what toll grief (& other trauma) can take & you are allowed that. You don’t have to get over it once your ‘alloted time’ is up. Functioning, however can help you keep going, even if, for now, there is an empty space – no one too share your day with. You won’t ever fill it in exactly the same way as before but you will learn to step around it & see the other things more. I think I may just be rambling a bit but you are (cliche alert) stronger than you think & you still functioning is a good indication of this.
You remain such a wise woman and for one so young and gorgeous too. I share my days with you online and that helps loads. I wish I were as strong as you imagine. I am just a big baby really.
I just wanted to send you a HUGE cyber hug Kate. Your post on your second birthday was so beautiful to read but the huge gap in your life with the loss of both parents must be indescribable. There is no time limit on grief and the loss of your Dad recently must have resurfaced all the grief at the loss of your mum. Add to that the feelings you may have about adoption and I can only begin to imagine how you must be feeling at the moment. I wish I could do more than simply reply here to you but I wish I could give you a real hug. I don’t have parents in my life either (they are still alive though) and there are times when I really need a mum. I am around the same age as you and those moments are there, even though we are the grown ups now (allegedly). There is a wonderful line from Sleepless in Seattle about coping when Tom Hanks says that he will breathe in and out all day long until one day he won’t need to remind himself to breathe in and out all day long. I think that sums up grief so well. Sending lots of love to you tonight and hoping that you aren’t feeling that loneliness so much now. Gem xxx
You know you are right. On the way home from school, I really felt Mum’s presence. I have held at lot of anger against her since her death and it was good to feel her there in her fleece with wolves on. She was so very clear in my mind.
If I can ever be your Mum in a soul way, just reach out. We can all help each other.
That quote from Tom Hanks reminds me of my stepdaughter once telling me to fight until I could fight no longer. Of course, I feel less lonely knowing there are folks out there and working things through with the crazy other half tonight too. Thank you.
Kate, I understand this completely. My husband is a Dr in intensive care which means he has to wrangle with his emotions in ways I don’t and he sometimes comes across as cold in some situations when in fact he is just being practical. To function (yes, that word again) he knows he just needs to acknowledge his grief, then move on. I have learned a lot from him on this. I am an intensely emotional person. When I lost someone very close to me many years ago it took many years before I could even think of her without the suffocating feeling of dark grief, no matter where I was. Over time I have learned how to think of her and smile.
It is still early days for you. Don’t read your husband’s reaction to your grief as isolating. Perhaps it is now time to grieve in a new way. Run a hot shower and sob your heart out. Go for a long walk (you knew I’d come to that, right?) and exhaust the emotion–temporarily. Keep blogging about it.
This all feels very lame as advice (you didn’t ask for advice, why do I feel compelled to give it? Perhaps it’s just a virtual hug I’m trying to give.). I wish we lived closer. I’d enjoy a regular cuppa with you x
You set for your own timetable for grief and don’t feel you have to hurry on up for anyone. To force it means you don’t often heal and possibly end up in denial. I hope that your healing continues at a pace you’re comfortable with – but that bright days are not too far ahead for you x
Don’t feel you should get over it, we all work through things differently, and it will take time. I am catching myself out by being what I think is normal and all of a sudden I start to panic and then realise why I’m panicking. Very bizarre sensations. I also find my sadness pops up at night when the day is done and all the distractions are gone for the day. Quite often there are tears falling as I drop off to sleep. (Going to stop now as I can feel my eyes welling up)
There is no timetable for grief. Everyone experiences and processes grief in different ways. The important thing is to respect what you are feeling and not to suppress it. That’s not the same as wallowing – if anything, truly allowing yourself to fully feel what you are feeling helps you to process your grief more fully and efficiently. It sounds to me like you’re doing really well at a really difficult time. As a non-regular commenter here I don’t mean to ‘butt in’ but I have been really touched by your writing and I just wanted to send some virtual love and support.