Since Konnor passed so suddenly last November I have been distraught. I have been suspended in total darkness. I have been making important decisions I never would have made if I was of a sound mind. I am not the same person I was before this. I am physically shaken, emotionally unstable and mentally damaged. I confess, I am a mess.
I don’t even care anymore. I can’t and won’t hide it. The really sad fact is, if I am so shattered I cannot even imagine how my daughter is holding herself up after losing her son. This very thought is tearing my heart apart even more. How dare I voice how hard my struggle is when I know she is living a nightmare.
Grief is so isolating, so raw and so painful. I hate to say the word painful. It seems so insignificant to use this word. There are so many more descriptive words in the dictionary to use such as; “agonizing,” “despairing,” “despondent” and “sorrow.” Go to therapy they said. I have spent some time in grief therapy. To be truthful I did not find it all that helpful. My therapist did share some useful coping strategies (write down my thoughts and feelings) and offered ideas for me to find ways to heal but ultimately I feel the same now as I did going in. Completely devastated.
I know Konnor wouldn’t want me to be so sad. I really do want to get to the place where I can look at his beautiful face in pictures and smile or remember something he said or did and laugh. But I can’t! I am trying, I really am. My heart isn’t ready yet. I’m still crying in my car, I’m still isolating myself, I am still filled with tremendous sadness.
How do we get back to the way we were? How do we as a family move forward after such a tragic event? It’s too painful to talk about and it’s too hard not to. We speak to each other in fragments. When the tears start we just say, ” I love you,” and it’s time to hang up. We end up feeling more alone than when we reached out.
I want to talk about him. But to talk about him hurts. I read something that said, “to heal the hurt you have to stop touching it.” Too late.
Where do we go from here?
Just keep loving. Because even with my broken heart, it is still so full of love.
Grief is LOVE. This is LOVE. This is how much that child meant to me. To us. To his Mother, his Father, his Aunts, his Grandmother. To ME. My first grandson. He was funny, he was sweet, he was everything a grandson should be and more. He was our Konnor. And I was his Grandma. I was proud of my super-hero, I still am and I always will be. I know I will go to my own death grieving his loss and missing his beautiful face. I am grateful and blessed that I had eight years to love him and hug him.
We just wanted so many more.