Wednesday, May 9, 2012
On Grief and Grieving
1) After your Dad dies, you will forget where you put your reading glasses at least six times a day.
2) You'll forget where you're going when you're driving down the freeway and miss your exit. Twice.
3) You'll break down in tears in the grocery store checkout line when the lady in front of you places a package of Ambrosia Salad on the conveyor belt. Everyone will stare at you like you're crazy.
4) Crying only three times a day is a good day.
5) When your well-meaning friend, the one who hasn't lost a parent, tells you that time will heal the Grand Canyon-sized wound in your heart, you'll want to reach across the table and squeeze her neck. But you smile instead.
6) You'll wonder who ever came up with those Stages of Grief. There are stages? You worry why you're the exception, especially when they crash on you all at once.
7) You'll miss deadlines.
8) You won't delete your Dad's cell phone number from your Contact List, just in case he tries to call.
9) You'll pray more.
10) That Eagle Kachina that sat in your Dad's library forever doesn't look right sitting in your house.
11) Photos will make you cry. Hard.
12) You'll thank God every day for your brother and sister and your mother.
13) You'd do just about anything for one more minute with your Dad.
14) Writing will get you through it, just likes it's done with so many other painful things.
Thanks for listening. I feel a little better. For now.