Paperwork. Yep. It's been 12 years since my stepdaughter died by suicide, but I recall the paperwork. Two funerals. The numbness interspersed with tears. The thank you notes. You reminded me of all this today and I'm not upset at all about it. Because you also remind me that someday it will happen again, and so I'm giving my husband an extra hug. Nothing is permanent, so let's try and stay awake, right?
Melissa, you are incredibly strong woman. Your article was beautifully written. I imagine it was also a bit difficult to write reliving it all once again. A year may have gone by but it can feel like yesterday. The grief stays fresh for a long time. The process of being able to let yourself grieve is so difficult when you are bombarded by paperwork. Love you tons!
I often call it the business of death. One year after the death of my beloved husband, it seems that there is always something new that pops up that needs attention and at least a few forms and phone calls. I now keep a copy of the death certificate with me.
And it shows your strength and goodness as a person that you helped your mother for it and were a pillar for her.
And yeah, the administrative part is hard. In a way, it forces you to delay your own grieving until all of that is over. I remember doing that multiple times.
But I didn’t know real grief until I lost my wife. And what you said in this post seems to agree very much with what I said in my earlier private message to you, that it hits you at unexpected times, went grocery shopping, or doing something else. It suddenly reminds you of some thing or time with them.
At least, with my mother and grandmother, the dementia had sent into the point that I knew that I had already lost them a long time ago when their bodies finally gave up. Something similar with my father too. I guess you could say that the grieving had already begun by that point because the actual person was already gone.
I wish you and your family the best through this difficult time.
But I know from your most recent posts, even though they have been a little while ago, that you were moving forward and building things to be even stronger and better. Like you said, you can’t be the same person again, but you find a way to pick up the burden and carry it with you without letting it cripple you.
Paperwork. Yep. It's been 12 years since my stepdaughter died by suicide, but I recall the paperwork. Two funerals. The numbness interspersed with tears. The thank you notes. You reminded me of all this today and I'm not upset at all about it. Because you also remind me that someday it will happen again, and so I'm giving my husband an extra hug. Nothing is permanent, so let's try and stay awake, right?
Sending you a hug
Beautifully written, heartfelt, and so true, especially the part about the you before and the you after. Hugs to you and yours. ❤️
Hugs back at ya!!!!
Melissa, you are incredibly strong woman. Your article was beautifully written. I imagine it was also a bit difficult to write reliving it all once again. A year may have gone by but it can feel like yesterday. The grief stays fresh for a long time. The process of being able to let yourself grieve is so difficult when you are bombarded by paperwork. Love you tons!
Sending you strength on this first anniversary. Thank you for sharing your testimony.
Melissa, you are such a gift to those who know you. Love to you and thanks for sharing xx
Sending you love and light. I appreciate you sharing your story as well as your advice.
I often call it the business of death. One year after the death of my beloved husband, it seems that there is always something new that pops up that needs attention and at least a few forms and phone calls. I now keep a copy of the death certificate with me.
Peace to you in the midst of it all.
Again my condolences on your losses.
And it shows your strength and goodness as a person that you helped your mother for it and were a pillar for her.
And yeah, the administrative part is hard. In a way, it forces you to delay your own grieving until all of that is over. I remember doing that multiple times.
But I didn’t know real grief until I lost my wife. And what you said in this post seems to agree very much with what I said in my earlier private message to you, that it hits you at unexpected times, went grocery shopping, or doing something else. It suddenly reminds you of some thing or time with them.
At least, with my mother and grandmother, the dementia had sent into the point that I knew that I had already lost them a long time ago when their bodies finally gave up. Something similar with my father too. I guess you could say that the grieving had already begun by that point because the actual person was already gone.
I wish you and your family the best through this difficult time.
But I know from your most recent posts, even though they have been a little while ago, that you were moving forward and building things to be even stronger and better. Like you said, you can’t be the same person again, but you find a way to pick up the burden and carry it with you without letting it cripple you.