Grieving

not2shygrrl · 11-20-2012, 04:18 PM

Hiya Ma,

I know I talk with you daily. This is a different venue and seems to be more so validating in my reaching out to touch you. Other people seeing these words, feeling my pain, comforting. Sometimes it is a need that I have since I am still here on earth...living and breathing, this way of reaching out to you is a sense of validation in some strange way because it involves others seeing.

I have met a woman...... and I know you would have loved her instantly! She is kind, loving and not perfect! How sweet is that?!! You would have liked her attentiveness towards me and life. You would have liked that she is older! You would have felt and seen how she loves me and tells me daily. You would have said to me to not mess this up, you would have listened to me patiently in speaking about her, you would have another daughter Ma....... In spirit I absolutely know you already know all of this and likely even more so! But sometimes....as a mortal I have a need to be seen with you publicly. Sort of an acknowledgement that I am your daughter, and you my Ma, who breathed life, love and family into me. I love you Ma, of course I miss you terribly still.

Ma, this woman I speak of.......she has my heart.......and my soul craves her presence with such a peacefulness that even I experience this for the first time in my life. How blessed I am and a wonderful feeling deep with in me. The knowing, the exchanges, the showing, and the respect that she and I have for each other is a euphoria that I welcome. So know, that I know, you already know of her

and my telling you of her here is an informality and a silly need of mine. You are present, and even likely had a hand in this! She is wonderful Ma, and I would love to have forever with her.

your loving daughter and #6 child.....A

ReDo · 11-27-2012, 09:01 PM

I just learned today that my father passed away on Thanksgiving night. Returning home from dinner he had another heart attack. We were not close not even in my wildest imagination can I say we were ever close. I have three childhood memories of my dad. One he showed up late one night after my brithday I remember because I had just gotten my birthday bear carebear. I was so happy to show him. Then he came and him and my mother had a huge fight a knife was pulled on her and he left. He kidnaped me once held me for a couple of weeks and tortured me. So not that great of memories. I saw him again when I was 18 and it was my choice my terms... He was drunk again or still I don't know he was always drunk. I became so angry at him for all the years he wasn't there and all the hurt he brought I screamed at him and left. Those were the last words I ever said to the person who was supposed to be my father.

Today I read his obituary it didn't even mention having a daughter. It listed all the boys but not one mention of me at all. It was the final hard slap across the face from that side of my family.

I am not really sure where the hurt is coming from honestly. Yeah so he is gone it isn't like we have talked in 18 years. It isn't like I expected anything from him. Sure I would call where he worked and just make sure he was okay by asking whoever asked the phone how he was doing but never spoke to him. Just wanted to know he was okay.

I never said I am sorry I never said I love you because honestly I still don't know if I did love him.

Its pretty raw right now. I am not going to his services because they are in Vermont and I am in Florida.. I have a horse awards program to go to this saturday and honestly Tank my horse loves me far more than my dad ever did.

I guess one day it will all settle down and make sence or I will learn to forgive.. I can't forgive him but I can forgive myself for my choices.

femmeInterrupted · 02-04-2013, 07:09 PM

my father passed away this summer. The grieving has been intense and has come in waves. We had a troubled, tumultuous relationship that was reconciled in his last year and a half of life. i did everything i could to stay in the moment with him, and offer only love and compassion. i spent the last two weeks of his life with him, day and night at his side. i promised i wouldn't leave, and i didn't. I wrote the following only a short time after he died of cancer.

11 Days

The summer my father died was hot and humid. I recall simply that everything struggled for life under the oppressive heat. Outside the hospice window the lilac Rose of Sharon bloomed in resistance to the torrid conditions, and from time to time, I’d watch, as birds would feed languidly in the window feeder and then fly away through the thick, damp air. I waited.

Nothing to be done as the sea boiled and the wine turned sour during the dog days of summer. I was buoyant on an ocean of salted tears, floating and striking through waves of life changes made forever in these times of sweltering deliverance.

Through flesh made damp by sweat and tears I sat and watched. A long vigil that lasted though a blur of finite nights and days, always a steady labouring towards loss. In this final delivery room there were only the sounds of fading; tortured breathing and a primal calling as he cried “Mom. Mom. Oh Mom.” Heart wrenching and saturated with unavoidable truth. And sometimes, in a quiet hush, my own weeping that grew weary and acceptant as another layer of loss was absorbed into the working chambers of my heart.

Unlike birth, where the push is towards life, this confinement was a labour towards a final release, from pain, from suffering, from life. There was karma in this vigil, this excruciating bearing witness. Reciprocity of a tender and painful kind as I returned my father’s watch, where decades earlier, when he was young and strong, he waited for my birth, for the emergence of his first and only daughter. And now I, saturated with grief and longing and loss, held his hand, and kissed his brow, and yearned for more time, more time; even as I begged for his release.

A kiss on the hand, and a promise so beautiful and true are wrapped up in love and memories that feel too raw and painful to be remembered yet, the happiest ones hurt too much at times like these. Like sunlight that shines too brightly, I must shield my mind’s eye from the sweetness of remembered joy.

I am left with the Autumn now, vibrant hues that I see only with new amazement, as time passes and I breathe deeply of the crisp cool fall air, remembering how I suffered the pain of his remorse and tasted the bitterness of regret with him, and then for him, when all he could do was his body’s work in that bed.

Eyes closed as he endured and exerted all he could. I whispered into his ear words from my heart, words of love, truth and compassion. We both knew: we had a bumpy ride but what a gift for us Meu Pai, that we had such a happy ending. What a gift for us Dad, to know how much love we had in our hearts for each other, and how all the rest, the lost and embezzled times, in the end meant nothing at all. Our eyes, locked together in moments that cannot be undone showed us all we needed. The terrible inevitability of truth, that love trumps loss, and we are we, and will always be, and these finite moments mean all.

Your final words to me gave me everything I ever needed, and can ever want or need. My woman’s heart made strong by the words that the little girl in me always needed and wanted to hear. Now I move onward, through this world, my father’s daughter, and you are closer than ever. Inside the sunbeams that turn the falling leaves crimson, on the bright dappling of sunlight that become diamond glints on gentle waves of the lake I see every day. I experience everything in my life now, again, full of the ‘first time’s’ in this world without you in it.

That vigil, unique and personal, so painfully intimate, so ultimately universal and I had come to learn this in those 11 days; that we still exist, that the absolute unbroken continuity of us weaves its way through all, and that somewhere you Are.

xoxox your nee nee.

Boots13 · 02-04-2013, 08:34 PM

I dont believe in coincidence...but its so odd that this thread should pop up. I'm progressively blessing but trying to calm my busy head, trying to match my swirl of thoughts with a quiet heart.

Today is the one year anniversary of the death of a co-worker I'd known for over 20 years. He retired from the same squad that I work in, after 35 years of service and passed away 3 days later.

But I started counting and grieving. "Gone But Not Forgotten" the mantra for the End Of Watch list. I bless the fact that I had such great friendships with them. I was work partners for years with 5 of them. And 11 of the 16 were friends, 2 of these men were brothers to me.

I stopped counting at 16. I know there are more.

10 shot in the line of duty
2 killed in accidents
2 suicides
1 drowned
1 cancer

One of these men , my little brother that I never had... I loved him like one. He followed me through 13 years of my career and into 4 of my Units, and we worked together in each one. Hair raising experiences that we helped each other through. I transferred out of our unit away from him and less than 2 months later he was killed in the line of duty.

It was an unbelievable time for me. A blur. I was at the hospital before his wife got there, she ran straight to me once she arrived. I delivered the death message and felt such guilt over her inconsolable grief, she was now a single mother to their 2 yo son. He had finally gotten his life together, married this wonderful woman, had the son he always talked about. I stood guard over his casket, my last feeble attempt to be at his side. I rode his funeral escort through blinding tears and heaving sobs. The tears are nearly falling now. I dont know how I didnt send myself and my motorcycle into oblivion on that ride. He's the line of duty death I'll never get over. His anniversary is in March.

And add family deaths over the years...
And throw in a few citizens who've suffered unbelievable truama, Strangers that I held because I didnt want them to die alone.

Its incumbant upon us to carry the blessing of having known and loved these people in your life. And having been loved, admired and/or respected by them.

I dont ever forget how precious life is, how full it is, and how linked we are to the memory of the those who have gone before us.

Without me, you would never have known this very small part of him .
I wish I could tell you briefly about them all.

femmeInterrupted · 02-04-2013, 09:37 PM

Your post made me think of the last ten years i've spent on the front lines in the Violence Against Women/Sexual Assault/Domestic Violence field...and a quote that i can no longer source, but often came to me when working with women and their trauma, was " It's an honour and a privilege to share in my sisters' grief". Your post and your experiences make that quote easily shared with your brothers. We remain absolutely connected in having known and loved them.

socialjustice_fsu · 02-04-2013, 10:09 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Boots13

I dont believe in coincidence...but its so odd that this thread should pop up. I'm progressively blessing but trying to calm my busy head, trying to match my swirl of thoughts with a quiet heart.

Today is the one year anniversary of the death of a co-worker I'd known for over 20 years. He retired from the same squad that I work in, after 35 years of service and passed away 3 days later.

But I started counting and grieving. "Gone But Not Forgotten" the mantra for the End Of Watch list. I bless the fact that I had such great friendships with them. I was work partners for years with 5 of them. And 11 of the 16 were friends, 2 of these men were brothers to me.

I stopped counting at 16. I know there are more.

10 shot in the line of duty
2 killed in accidents
2 suicides
1 drowned
1 cancer

One of these men , my little brother that I never had... I loved him like one. He followed me through 13 years of my career and into 4 of my Units, and we worked together in each one. Hair raising experiences that we helped each other through. I transferred out of our unit away from him and less than 2 months later he was killed in the line of duty.

It was an unbelievable time for me. A blur. I was at the hospital before his wife got there, she ran straight to me once she arrived. I delivered the death message and felt such guilt over her inconsolable grief, she was now a single mother to their 2 yo son. He had finally gotten his life together, married this wonderful woman, had the son he always talked about. I stood guard over his casket, my last feeble attempt to be at his side. I rode his funeral escort through blinding tears and heaving sobs. The tears are nearly falling now. I dont know how I didnt send myself and my motorcycle into oblivion on that ride. He's the line of duty death I'll never get over. His anniversary is in March.

And add family deaths over the years...
And throw in a few citizens who've suffered unbelievable truama, Strangers that I held because I didnt want them to die alone.

Its incumbant upon us to carry the blessing of having known and loved these people in your life. And having been loved, admired and/or respected by them.

I dont ever forget how precious life is, how full it is, and how linked we are to the memory of the those who have gone before us.

Without me, you would never have known this very small part of him .
I wish I could tell you briefly about them all.

Reading this made me contemplate so many things tonight. "...Trying to calm my busy head, trying to match my swirl of thoughts with a quiet heart"...oh, how that resonates with me. I imagine being in your line of work there is not much you haven't seen, felt, or been engaged in. Finding that space where peace and warmth and comfort can be invited into your heart, your soul, your being, can be a challenge at best. So much loss around us all. However - you - are the one that see this kind of thing up close and personal. You see, the rest of us see a blur of tragic headlines or news blurbs. To feel the kinship, compassion, respect and loyalty as you have so eloquently written of gives rise to the respect these men and women have earned in the line of noble work. They - you - made a conscious choice to keep 'us' safe and out of harms way.

Following super bowl Sunday I am certain many folks have picked their hero's. I am here to say it is the folks like yourself, your brothers and sisters in the force who are the heros in this world. You run in - when the others run out. You have given your kindred spirits honor, grace and dignity through YOU. They are keeping their watch over you now. And, that, dear hero, is their honor.

Boots13 · 02-05-2013, 06:43 PM

I guess we're all stories in the end.

I think its so important to honor our connections so that we can carry the imprint of our past into the future.

There is such strength in the kind words of others. Thank you all for your rep comments and messages.
Thank you for sharing your strength.

I'm glad this thread is here. I hope more people post their stories, their thoughts of loved ones, or their words of strength and advice.
Its important for all of us to know who we are, and how we are, in the grieving process.

11-20-2012, 04:18 PM	#1
not2shygrrl Member How Do You Identify?: as a Lesbian Preferred Pronoun?: she/her Relationship Status: under the cover of starry starry nights...enjoying a warm fire in the pit ! Join Date: Oct 2010 Location: in a cabin in the woods Posts: 636 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 8,068 Thanked 2,454 Times in 546 Posts Rep Power: 21474851	You would have..... Hiya Ma, I know I talk with you daily. This is a different venue and seems to be more so validating in my reaching out to touch you. Other people seeing these words, feeling my pain, comforting. Sometimes it is a need that I have since I am still here on earth...living and breathing, this way of reaching out to you is a sense of validation in some strange way because it involves others seeing. I have met a woman...... and I know you would have loved her instantly! She is kind, loving and not perfect! How sweet is that?!! You would have liked her attentiveness towards me and life. You would have liked that she is older! You would have felt and seen how she loves me and tells me daily. You would have said to me to not mess this up, you would have listened to me patiently in speaking about her, you would have another daughter Ma....... In spirit I absolutely know you already know all of this and likely even more so! But sometimes....as a mortal I have a need to be seen with you publicly. Sort of an acknowledgement that I am your daughter, and you my Ma, who breathed life, love and family into me. I love you Ma, of course I miss you terribly still. Ma, this woman I speak of.......she has my heart.......and my soul craves her presence with such a peacefulness that even I experience this for the first time in my life. How blessed I am and a wonderful feeling deep with in me. The knowing, the exchanges, the showing, and the respect that she and I have for each other is a euphoria that I welcome. So know, that I know, you already know of her and my telling you of her here is an informality and a silly need of mine. You are present, and even likely had a hand in this! She is wonderful Ma, and I would love to have forever with her. your loving daughter and #6 child.....A

11-27-2012, 09:01 PM	#2
ReDo Member How Do You Identify?: femme Preferred Pronoun?: her Relationship Status: I am the treat to your trick Join Date: Jul 2011 Location: Florida Posts: 129 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 265 Thanked 883 Times in 93 Posts Rep Power: 9521536	I just learned today that my father passed away on Thanksgiving night. Returning home from dinner he had another heart attack. We were not close not even in my wildest imagination can I say we were ever close. I have three childhood memories of my dad. One he showed up late one night after my brithday I remember because I had just gotten my birthday bear carebear. I was so happy to show him. Then he came and him and my mother had a huge fight a knife was pulled on her and he left. He kidnaped me once held me for a couple of weeks and tortured me. So not that great of memories. I saw him again when I was 18 and it was my choice my terms... He was drunk again or still I don't know he was always drunk. I became so angry at him for all the years he wasn't there and all the hurt he brought I screamed at him and left. Those were the last words I ever said to the person who was supposed to be my father. Today I read his obituary it didn't even mention having a daughter. It listed all the boys but not one mention of me at all. It was the final hard slap across the face from that side of my family. I am not really sure where the hurt is coming from honestly. Yeah so he is gone it isn't like we have talked in 18 years. It isn't like I expected anything from him. Sure I would call where he worked and just make sure he was okay by asking whoever asked the phone how he was doing but never spoke to him. Just wanted to know he was okay. I never said I am sorry I never said I love you because honestly I still don't know if I did love him. Its pretty raw right now. I am not going to his services because they are in Vermont and I am in Florida.. I have a horse awards program to go to this saturday and honestly Tank my horse loves me far more than my dad ever did. I guess one day it will all settle down and make sence or I will learn to forgive.. I can't forgive him but I can forgive myself for my choices. __________________ Always remember, tomorrow is another chance for a great day.

02-04-2013, 07:09 PM	#3
femmeInterrupted Member How Do You Identify?: Queer femme Preferred Pronoun?: she works out well ;) Relationship Status: Happily married. Join Date: Nov 2009 Location: Ontario Posts: 812 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 1,885 Thanked 3,216 Times in 667 Posts Rep Power: 21474852	my father passed away this summer. The grieving has been intense and has come in waves. We had a troubled, tumultuous relationship that was reconciled in his last year and a half of life. i did everything i could to stay in the moment with him, and offer only love and compassion. i spent the last two weeks of his life with him, day and night at his side. i promised i wouldn't leave, and i didn't. I wrote the following only a short time after he died of cancer. 11 Days The summer my father died was hot and humid. I recall simply that everything struggled for life under the oppressive heat. Outside the hospice window the lilac Rose of Sharon bloomed in resistance to the torrid conditions, and from time to time, I’d watch, as birds would feed languidly in the window feeder and then fly away through the thick, damp air. I waited. Nothing to be done as the sea boiled and the wine turned sour during the dog days of summer. I was buoyant on an ocean of salted tears, floating and striking through waves of life changes made forever in these times of sweltering deliverance. Through flesh made damp by sweat and tears I sat and watched. A long vigil that lasted though a blur of finite nights and days, always a steady labouring towards loss. In this final delivery room there were only the sounds of fading; tortured breathing and a primal calling as he cried “Mom. Mom. Oh Mom.” Heart wrenching and saturated with unavoidable truth. And sometimes, in a quiet hush, my own weeping that grew weary and acceptant as another layer of loss was absorbed into the working chambers of my heart. Unlike birth, where the push is towards life, this confinement was a labour towards a final release, from pain, from suffering, from life. There was karma in this vigil, this excruciating bearing witness. Reciprocity of a tender and painful kind as I returned my father’s watch, where decades earlier, when he was young and strong, he waited for my birth, for the emergence of his first and only daughter. And now I, saturated with grief and longing and loss, held his hand, and kissed his brow, and yearned for more time, more time; even as I begged for his release. A kiss on the hand, and a promise so beautiful and true are wrapped up in love and memories that feel too raw and painful to be remembered yet, the happiest ones hurt too much at times like these. Like sunlight that shines too brightly, I must shield my mind’s eye from the sweetness of remembered joy. I am left with the Autumn now, vibrant hues that I see only with new amazement, as time passes and I breathe deeply of the crisp cool fall air, remembering how I suffered the pain of his remorse and tasted the bitterness of regret with him, and then for him, when all he could do was his body’s work in that bed. Eyes closed as he endured and exerted all he could. I whispered into his ear words from my heart, words of love, truth and compassion. We both knew: we had a bumpy ride but what a gift for us Meu Pai, that we had such a happy ending. What a gift for us Dad, to know how much love we had in our hearts for each other, and how all the rest, the lost and embezzled times, in the end meant nothing at all. Our eyes, locked together in moments that cannot be undone showed us all we needed. The terrible inevitability of truth, that love trumps loss, and we are we, and will always be, and these finite moments mean all. Your final words to me gave me everything I ever needed, and can ever want or need. My woman’s heart made strong by the words that the little girl in me always needed and wanted to hear. Now I move onward, through this world, my father’s daughter, and you are closer than ever. Inside the sunbeams that turn the falling leaves crimson, on the bright dappling of sunlight that become diamond glints on gentle waves of the lake I see every day. I experience everything in my life now, again, full of the ‘first time’s’ in this world without you in it. That vigil, unique and personal, so painfully intimate, so ultimately universal and I had come to learn this in those 11 days; that we still exist, that the absolute unbroken continuity of us weaves its way through all, and that somewhere you Are. xoxox your nee nee. __________________ "If you have come to help me, you are wasting your time. But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us walk together." Lila Watson You say you love rain, but you use an umbrella to walk under it. You say you love sun, but you seek shade when its shining. You say you love wind, but when its comes you close your window. So that's why I'm scared, when you say you love me. -- Bob Marley

02-04-2013, 08:34 PM	#4
Boots13 Member How Do You Identify?: Butch Preferred Pronoun?: She Relationship Status: No Join Date: Nov 2009 Location: PNW Posts: 823 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 1,387 Thanked 2,313 Times in 428 Posts Rep Power: 21474852	Seeking my quiet heart ~ I dont believe in coincidence...but its so odd that this thread should pop up. I'm progressively blessing but trying to calm my busy head, trying to match my swirl of thoughts with a quiet heart. Today is the one year anniversary of the death of a co-worker I'd known for over 20 years. He retired from the same squad that I work in, after 35 years of service and passed away 3 days later. But I started counting and grieving. "Gone But Not Forgotten" the mantra for the End Of Watch list. I bless the fact that I had such great friendships with them. I was work partners for years with 5 of them. And 11 of the 16 were friends, 2 of these men were brothers to me. I stopped counting at 16. I know there are more. 10 shot in the line of duty 2 killed in accidents 2 suicides 1 drowned 1 cancer One of these men , my little brother that I never had... I loved him like one. He followed me through 13 years of my career and into 4 of my Units, and we worked together in each one. Hair raising experiences that we helped each other through. I transferred out of our unit away from him and less than 2 months later he was killed in the line of duty. It was an unbelievable time for me. A blur. I was at the hospital before his wife got there, she ran straight to me once she arrived. I delivered the death message and felt such guilt over her inconsolable grief, she was now a single mother to their 2 yo son. He had finally gotten his life together, married this wonderful woman, had the son he always talked about. I stood guard over his casket, my last feeble attempt to be at his side. I rode his funeral escort through blinding tears and heaving sobs. The tears are nearly falling now. I dont know how I didnt send myself and my motorcycle into oblivion on that ride. He's the line of duty death I'll never get over. His anniversary is in March. And add family deaths over the years... And throw in a few citizens who've suffered unbelievable truama, Strangers that I held because I didnt want them to die alone. Its incumbant upon us to carry the blessing of having known and loved these people in your life. And having been loved, admired and/or respected by them. I dont ever forget how precious life is, how full it is, and how linked we are to the memory of the those who have gone before us. Without me, you would never have known this very small part of him . I wish I could tell you briefly about them all.

02-04-2013, 09:37 PM	#5
femmeInterrupted Member How Do You Identify?: Queer femme Preferred Pronoun?: she works out well ;) Relationship Status: Happily married. Join Date: Nov 2009 Location: Ontario Posts: 812 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 1,885 Thanked 3,216 Times in 667 Posts Rep Power: 21474852	Your post made me think of the last ten years i've spent on the front lines in the Violence Against Women/Sexual Assault/Domestic Violence field...and a quote that i can no longer source, but often came to me when working with women and their trauma, was " It's an honour and a privilege to share in my sisters' grief". Your post and your experiences make that quote easily shared with your brothers. We remain absolutely connected in having known and loved them. __________________ "If you have come to help me, you are wasting your time. But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us walk together." Lila Watson You say you love rain, but you use an umbrella to walk under it. You say you love sun, but you seek shade when its shining. You say you love wind, but when its comes you close your window. So that's why I'm scared, when you say you love me. -- Bob Marley

02-05-2013, 06:43 PM	#7
Boots13 Member How Do You Identify?: Butch Preferred Pronoun?: She Relationship Status: No Join Date: Nov 2009 Location: PNW Posts: 823 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 1,387 Thanked 2,313 Times in 428 Posts Rep Power: 21474852	in the end... I guess we're all stories in the end. I think its so important to honor our connections so that we can carry the imprint of our past into the future. There is such strength in the kind words of others. Thank you all for your rep comments and messages. Thank you for sharing your strength. I'm glad this thread is here. I hope more people post their stories, their thoughts of loved ones, or their words of strength and advice. Its important for all of us to know who we are, and how we are, in the grieving process.