Monday, August 15, 2016

Pure Grief Is Pure Love ... Pure Pain

Pure Grief Is Pure Love ... Pure Pain
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/GeeGranny on Twitter

My son, Tommy ... holding his only son

It's hard to describe grief ... imagine being trapped inside yourself with such pain ... you can't get away, can't breathe. By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

I have always promised my readers/followers that I would let them know when I went through a bout of grief.  I will always keep that promise.  That's why I began writing ... it's what I know best  ... grief, pain.  I've made myself go through all in a 'good' way ... I chose to do that.  At first I couldn't ... I couldn't think enough to do that.  I was shrouded in pure darkness.

It's been 6 years now ... somehow I keep my grief hidden beneath the surface but ... at times, even I can't keep it suppressed.

Imagine looking out over a beautiful body of water  ... ever so often you see disturbance in the water.  You see fish jump out or surface the water.

My grief is like that ... it's like fish 'just beneath the surface' of the water.  Sometimes ... like a fish ... it unexpectedly jumps out.

That's when the panic attacks happen.  Like two days ago I began to feel panicky ... and when I thought about why I felt that way ... my thoughts turned quickly to the loss of my son and only child.

I felt as if I wanted to just cry my Heart out.  I couldn't cry but tears rolled from my eyes ... and the pain in my Heart was deep all the way to my very soul.

It's a strange way to feel ... it's an awful way to feel ... it means someone loved with one's very Heart is gone ... forever.  This is pure grief.  Pure grief is pure love ... pure pain.

When it's your child, only one at that ... you have no one to look forward to in life ... no one to watch grow older so you can tease them playfully.  No parent should outlive their children ... it's very sad.  Very sad when that child is the only one ... there aren't any children left.

All parents would like their children to always be there ... especially as they begin to age.  Their children's love means the very world to them.  An older person is never alone when that child is close to them.

When I experienced grief this time ... that day I saw a man in his 40's who looked just like Tommy ... from the back.  I kept turning my head to 'see Tommy'.  When the man moved I could 'see Tommy' move for a few minutes.  That's a game grieving mothers play ... just to see their child alive for a few minutes.  At least this grieving mother does that.

Of course, I realize that Tommy's gone forever and I only play the game just for a few minutes ... let go, be realistic.  Tommy's gone ... he can't come back.  He can't move ... he can't speak, laugh ... he can't say 'I love you, Mama' ... ever again.  I know that.  My son is gone and I have no choice but to accept it.

I've coped with my grief in a positive way.  I still feel the pain deeply, I always will.  I can be alright as I live the rest of my life.  I really had so far to come on this Grieving Mother Journey.  Do you know ... I never knew I could?

Losing a child is the worst pain I have ever felt in my entire life.  I've battled cancer (Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma) ... I've lost everything in a house-fire, I've lost all my family ... the very people I loved with my Heart until I have no one but, Skip and our two Pups.  Many 'bad' things have happened in my life ... losing Tommy over-shadowed any of them.

Losing my child hurt worse than any of all the bad things that have happened in my life.  In fact now ... I don't think of the other 'bad' things ... when Tommy died ... it became all the pain mixed with my grief for my son.

All the pain I live with inside ... makes me stronger for it.  I have to be for me to live with such knowledge ... knowledge that my child is gone, my child is dead ... he isn't coming back.  The knowledge was bigger than I ... there was a time I couldn't hold it all ... I almost died from it ... I couldn't get away from ... myself.

I was trapped with my own grief inside me ... for over 3 years that's all I lived, breathed ... pure grief.  I couldn't see for the darkness that surrounded my mind ... I couldn't see outside me for looking in.

I am so grateful to begin seeing little patches of light ... I kept fighting to come back.  It took so long ... I wrote and wrote all my grief, pain ... many of you have read it for almost 6 years now.

Many of you let me know you were 'there'.  It meant the world to me.  Writing ... saved me, gave me an outlet for my pain.  I know I couldn't have lived if I didn't let it out of me ... I was like a roaring river ... damned up.  Thankfully ... writing was like removing the dam ... so, my words could flow.  As my words flowed ... the pain began little by little ... flowing out until I can live with what's left inside me.

May 29th makes 6 years Tommy has been gone.  I am so glad to be able to think of him without going into darkness to protect my sanity.

I'm so glad I can think of him, hear his voice, laugh in my mind.  I'm so glad I can see his sunshine smile, twinkling eyes in my mind.  I can do it now ... though tears may come ... I know ... everything is going to be alright.  I imagine it raining and seeing the sun shine through the raindrops as they fall.

Note by this Author:

I made a promise to always write about grief to let my readers/followers know how it feels.  I never sugar-coat it, I write it just as it really is.  This way you can know how it feels and I pray you never get to know it.

You can hopefully understand a little more when you see a grieving mother.  The pain is greater than the mother ... the mother is trapped inside herself with such knowledge she can't get away from. Imagine being trapped in a room with no air ... the panic ... oh my, the panic.  Grief is worse than that.

1 comment:

  1. Gloria, you've been through so much! I'm glad you have gotten to a place of feeling Tommy's presence and love surrounding you. That is such a beautiful gift to have after suffering from the horror of grief. And it is very rare. Sending love.