Grief Is An Interesting Thing

Yesterday marked two years since my mom passed away. It was a rough, emotional day and I wanted to share something I wrote a couple months ago which really sums up my grief over the past two years. 

Grief is an interesting thing. It jumps up at you unexpectedly. It comes at night and in the morning, but mostly it’s a long process, full of tears, doubt, fear and loneliness. For the first year and a half of my grief, I watched myself live my life from afar. I cried myself to sleep, listened to a laugh that wasn’t mine, lost a lot of weight but mostly I watched myself become this person I didn’t know. I think part of the reason that happened, is because the person I knew was defined by my mom. My beautiful mother gave me strength, courage and confidence. She laughed with me, hugged me when I needed it most and just let me be myself, always, no ifs, ands or buts about it. When she died, a part of me disappeared with her.

Through that first year and half, I lost all confidence in me. I didn’t know who I was, I felt so lonely and dated someone who just made me doubt myself more than anything. Sometimes, in a room full of people, many who loved me so much I just felt alone. The real me was a distance memory, who I hoped to one day find again. I graduated college, and started a life of independence, that was plagued by loneliness, grief and no mom to hug, shop for apartment décor with or call after my first day of my big girl job. Boy did that suck. So damn much.

I continued on searching for my counterpart who had disappeared. The anniversary of my mom’s death came and went and so did the holidays. With all of those things, came a new reality that I wasn’t used to. It meant a fractured family that I wasn’t comfortable around because I wasn’t myself; the wonderful young women raised by my mother who once had so much confidence and joy in her heart.

Days kept passing and slowly, my true self was finding its way home.  Piece by piece. Sometimes it was just for a second to not return for days, but I knew she was there. Maybe it’s true that time heals everything but I finally wasn’t as fragile and welcomed the chance to be myself.

Now during all of this I had found a wonderful group of friends who brought me laughter, hugs and a sense of community and with them came a chance to take a break, to the beach. The beach, my mom’s favorite place in the world. Where she could relax and where she wanted to retire. And you’ll never guess what happened, waiting on that beach was the real me. It’s as if she was just waiting for me to arrive and for four glorious days, I felt like my old self. And gosh, did that feel nice. I truly laughed, mingled with strangers with confidence but most importantly felt like I fit somewhere. I sobbed on the plane ride home, because I didn’t want my true self to disappear again. She did, but she came back more frequently to visit. For weeks after being home and going to my job, where I felt worthless, I again watched myself live my life. But I had caught a glimpse of my old self, and realized how much I truly had missed her.

Where I found myself and finally relaxed.

My wonderful friends my last night at the beach! 

Flash forward 4 months and I can say with confidence, I am myself more often than not. I have my moments, as grief comes in waves and when it hits hard, it knocks me on my butt. I met another young man who I just adored to pieces, but who just stopped calling and for the first time in 2 years, I realize it’s not because of anything I did. I don’t feel so fragile in that hurt. I don’t feel like my world is ending. But most importantly, my true self is dealing with these emotions and I am not watching from a far. He may not be ready to date, or the long distance got to him but either way I am confident in myself. It’s nice for the real Kaci Green to be here. To laugh, sing about her day, smile at strangers and enjoy a good book.

But something unexpected came in finding myself; the sadness that I had finally found myself but my mom is no longer here. It’s so painfully hard because she’s the reason I am who I am. I think tonight as I went on hour three of reading a book that I realized just how painful and frustrating it is moving on as myself without my mom. Had I been with my mom while reading, she would have already checked on me 4-5 times, asked why I was up so late and then wanted to know what all my out loud, excited comments were about. I would have told her the premise of the entire book. She would patiently listen, give me a kiss and watch me dive right back into my book as she walked away. And dammit, I just want her here to do that.

In that want tonight God had a way of giving me just what I needed. All it took was a simple message from a friend saying, “You’re strong. I love you.” It seemed completely out of the blue, but it was perfect in every way possible. Funny how out of the blue things are truly things from God. This text solidified that I fit in somewhere, as my true self and I think in a way, it was my mom being there in that moment too. It’s as if she was saying, “I’m so glad you’re back to yourself. You can do this without me and I love you.” And I needed that, because I long to hear my mom say she loves me every day. That is something I miss the most.

But life continues to move on, and as each day passes, it’s another day without my mom. Grief gets processed through yet still creeps up in the strangest moments. I am thankful for it though, because it reminds me just how much I miss the woman who shaped me into the person I am today. And she is pretty damn awesome. Paraphrasing Eminem, the real Kaci Green has finally stood up.