Well, I survived yesterday. I think it was one of the hardest anniversaries I have had in years. I cried a lot; which was hard and awkward because I was not safe at home, where I could hide and let the tears come in hard wracking sobs till my nose ran and my eyes were red rimmed. No, instead I was at work, in a public place, trying to keep my composure; not very well I might add.
I wonder if part of why it hit so hard this year is that one of my daughters is so close in age to what I was. It’s hard to fathom sometimes… I don’t know which is harder, sadder, looking at my babies at that age and understanding how it would feel should something happen to me, or knowing every year I live is a year longer than she had… I am already
5 7 years older than she ever was, and I am still so young. (apparently I am bad at math as I had initially put that I was 5 years older than she had been when in fact I am now 7 years older… where does the time go?)
So I left my last blog post saying:
Years back some-one told me some very true and very wise words in regards to grief, death and loss; “you will never get over it, but you will learn to get on with it” if I saw them today I would say thank-you, because those words gave me hope and helped set me free from grief’s companion, guilt – but I think that is another blog for another day.
Thankfully I can say that guilt no longer has its grip on me. Guilt is, well, a horrible trap. And unless you have done something wrong and should have feelings of remorse, then it is also a lie. Guilt is a sticky web that entangles you and is hell to get free from. In my situation, with my mother having died while I was in my turbulent teen years, guilt was spiralling out of control. I felt guilty for having moments of happiness, because how could I be happy when I had lost my world and did that mean I was forgetting her, that I wasn’t ‘honouring’ her? I had guilt for feeling sad because then I wasn’t living up to her expectations and fulfilling my life, and being all she had wanted me to be. Somehow I felt that I should be living her dreams (letting her live through me?). It was like every emotion was wrong, everything I did was wrong, like I somehow believed my life needed to be about upholding her memory and dreams. But that isn’t living. And it certainly isn’t being true to my heart or to myself.
I had to learn to get on with it, ‘It’ being my life. I had to live my own life, for me. Not for my mother’s memory, not for the people around me who figured I should be upholding her wishes somehow. I have learned that I truly am honoring her by being true to me, because I know that, that is what she would have wanted for me. Her truest desire was for me to be happy, and I can’t be happy living my life for some-one else, even if that some-one is her.
So what I have learned is that it’s ok to get on with my life. I have learned that I will never truly get over it because it is actually a part of who I am. Not only is her death a part of my life, but it is a part of me. It helped to mould and make me, and even though I cannot run from it, I cannot live in a state of guilt over it. But I can embrace it and learn from it and carry it in the corner of my heart knowing that every day in which I choose to really live my life I am honouring her and her memory – guilt free I might add.
From My Spoken Heart to yours, wishes for guilt free love and life, xoxoxox