One thing I've learned about grief over the last 7 months is that it doesn't get less painful, it just gets easier to cover up. It gets easier to get through the day because you become more and more practiced on pretending that you are okay and not dying inside. It gets easier to recognize your triggers and avoid them. It gets easier to put on that mask everyday and pretend to be a happy, functioning person. Believe me, you are still hurting the same inside as you were before but the time that has passed makes you that much better at pretending.
While most days you can avoid the pain and function, there are some days which you have to let it overwhelm you. You have to give in to the pain and deal with it for that one day (or two, or three, or week or whatever it ends up being) so you can heal. Those days give you the opportunity to feel your emotions and, essentially, release them. Yesterday was one of these days for me. Yesterday, was the 7 month anniversary of Naya's death.
Anniversary days are notorious for the grieving (as are holidays). They are a reminder of what we once had and what we lost. Death anniversaries are even worse because we are able to put a definitive number to how many days it's been since we last saw our loved one and how long we've been missing them. It makes you face the reality that they are gone all over again. And it sucks.
Yesterday, I just let the emotions of the day take me. For one, I knew a day like this was coming - I had a good two week run of normality and for the grieving, this never lasts. Plus, the day fell on a weekend that Ty was with his dad and Dan was working. I was alone and able to let my emotions out. I woke up and went to the gym for an hour. Afterwards, I grabbed some Starbucks and took it to the cemetery and had breakfast with my daughter. And cried. A lot. I stayed there for about an hour, then drove home. On the way home, I listened to the playlist we used at Naya's memorial service. And I cried more. When I got home, I opened her door and went in her room (something I've actually done quite a bit lately but that's for a separate post). I sat in her chair, wrapped her blanket around me and read the nugget a book. I cried while doing it but I was proud of myself. It was a way to share my Naya with her little brother or sister. Afterward, I took a shower and drove out to have lunch with Dan, shopped and then went to work. All-in-all, I'm glad that I let myself have a day because I needed it. I miss her. So much.
Anyway, before I start crying even more than I already am while writing this, I wanted to mention that Dan and I had bracelets made to sell for our March for Babies walk. They are purple rubber and say "Marching for Naya" on them. If you are interested, here is a link to our wepay store and you can order one. All proceeds will go to the March of Dimes (less the shipping).
We have two more weeks left before the walk and we are very excited to be one of the highest fundraising teams in the nation! We would love to stay that way, so any little bit helps! Thank you all in advance.
I never really know what to say, but every week or so I read your posts, and they are beautiful. It's not just that you write well, but something more that is hard to describe. It's your love for your little girl, your strength, and your recognition of what you have to do to keep going. I of course hope that every day is a little bit easier than the last, but more than understand that it will never be easy. I wish I could turn back time for you.
ReplyDeleteRebecca
There is a wonderful book called "Someone Came Before You." We read it to our twins on their older brother and sister's death anniversary to teach them that we had babies before them and we do not forget them and will always love them. Our first set of twins death anniversary is the 22nd of each month. This month will be 28 months since they were born and died. You may cry a little less but you never forget.
ReplyDeleteJamie,
ReplyDeleteWhat you write is so wonderful to read. I can't get past how hard it must be to you to grieve and be happy at the same time. I know it must be a struggle.
I wanted to tell you how much I understand the anniversaries. Every time the date of my dad's death or his birthday comes, I lose it. A song, a picture, a movie. Something so simple can send me over the edge. While I will never understand your grief for your sweet Naya, I find comfort in your writings. It makes me feel so much better about still grieving my father.
Jamie,
ReplyDeleteWhat you write is so wonderful to read. I can't get past how hard it must be to you to grieve and be happy at the same time. I know it must be a struggle.
I wanted to tell you how much I understand the anniversaries. Every time the date of my dad's death or his birthday comes, I lose it. A song, a picture, a movie. Something so simple can send me over the edge. While I will never understand your grief for your sweet Naya, I find comfort in your writings. It makes me feel so much better about still grieving my father.
Jamie,
ReplyDeleteWhat you write is so wonderful to read. I can't get past how hard it must be to you to grieve and be happy at the same time. I know it must be a struggle.
I wanted to tell you how much I understand the anniversaries. Every time the date of my dad's death or his birthday comes, I lose it. A song, a picture, a movie. Something so simple can send me over the edge. While I will never understand your grief for your sweet Naya, I find comfort in your writings. It makes me feel so much better about still grieving my father.