My life rotated around my mother. She literally meant the world to me. I wanted nothing more than to please her in everything I did, whether it was doing well in school, or simply drawing her a picture. Losing her was the most painful experience of my life so far, and I am amazed by how long it takes to truly grieve this kind of loss.
I spent much of my sophomore year of high school just trying to get through each day. My schoolwork wasn't a priority for me anymore. I had to figure out how to take care of my sister and brother. When your priority list includes things like "make dinner", "pack tomorrow's lunches", "get everyone off to school on time", and other care-taker tasks, schoolwork tends to slip further and further from the top of the list. People expected that I would need time to readjust. A mere few months later, however, I was expected to be able to get through my day, and keep up the spectacular grades I had maintained for years. While the "acute" phase of my grief may have passed, I still had a lot more crying left to do.
I didn't really get a chance to grieve properly that first year. In the time leading up to my mother's death, I took on more responsibilities with each passing day, regarding the care of my siblings and the household chores. I had to "stay strong" for my siblings when my mother died. How were they supposed to move on from their grief if I was falling apart all the time? I needed to keep myself calm, collected, and functioning in order for the rest of the family to keep going. There was no time to grieve.
My junior and senior year of high school, things became easier at home. We grew used to the new "normal" in our lives, and I was able to focus on my schoolwork again. But I still did not have time to grieve, and truly recover from my loss. I had to worry about too many other things. College applications, SATs, ACTs, graduation. There was no time to cry, and reflect on the time I got to spend with my mother.
Starting college brought a new set of problems. I had never been away from my family for more than a few days. I had never been away from home on the anniversary of my mother's death. There was no time to grieve. I had too much homework to do, and too many classes to go to. I couldn't request extensions on papers. If my mother had died that very week? Sure, that would be a reasonable excuse. But the third anniversary of a parent's death? I was expected to be able to "suck it up", to some extent, and move on.
Today marks six years since my mother's death. I've reached a place that I never thought I would. I don't mean that I'm living in an apartment, or that I'm preparing to graduate from college. I don't mean that I'm in a relationship with a beautiful woman, or that I've learned to overcome huge hurdles with my anxiety. The place I've reached is one that most people wouldn't see. I didn't realize it was the anniversary of my mother's death until halfway through my day. And it didn't ruin the happy mood I had started the day with. Instead, I accepted the fact and moved on. I am still sad, and I miss her terribly, but I am not overwhelmed with grief the way I was each year before this. I am in a place where I am finally beginning to heal.
While the demands of home and school played a huge role in delaying my grief, they were not the only factors. I needed to grieve in my own way, not in the way that everyone expected of me. At the wake, I didn't go up to the coffin until the very last possible moment. I didn't want to be there. Having so many people surrounding me at that time was simply too much. I needed privacy to grieve.
Some of my family members like to pause before meals at Thanksgiving, Christmas, or Easter, and say a few things in memory of my mother. But this sort of thing never helped me. I needed to grieve on my own time, at my own pace.
I think people are often confused by the fact that I don't visit my mother's grave. Once in a while, I would go by myself. I never enjoyed visiting the grave with other people. I think I have only been to see her grave three or four times since starting college. I don't need to be there to grieve. I know that her body is there, but my mother is not. As the famous poem goes: "Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep."
My faith has played a huge role in helping me to grieve at my own pace. Knowing that the Lord has been watching out for me is a comfort when nothing else can calm me. There have been many times over the last six years where I have distinctly felt His presence. Knowing that He will never put me through a trial I cannot handle, no matter how difficult it may seem, has gotten me through many hard days. Although I did not get the chance to grieve at the pace I would have liked to, my faith provided safety and security, as well as the gentle reminder that I could take as long as I needed.
And so I hold fast to my faith, as I let this day unfold as it will. There is no trial I cannot overcome, so long as I have faith in the Lord. And so, on the sixth anniversary of my mother's death, I can smile, where once I would have cried.
~*~
And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Look! God's dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. 'He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death' or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away."
Revelation 21:3-4
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