When someone you love dies, especially a parent, there is a battle inside.

For me, it’s partly grieving daughter, partly intrigued person realizing that for the first time in a long time (maybe my entire life) I have no strings to anyone, partly empowered woman roaring in new freedom, partly frightened child wondering “How the hell did I get here” and “Now what?”

I just started to be “okay” with dad’s passing and now mom is gone, too. So, while there is freedom in not going to sit with her every day for hours while she eats and falls asleep, there is also a vacuum in my life now.

Like so many before me and so many yet to come, I’m glad that I was with her these last months. That she knew I loved her and that she shared her love and thanks for the care I provided before passing. I’m glad my brother and sister were with me at her side as she took her last breaths.

But, I, too, am human. This sucks.

Like anyone dealing with the loss of a loved one, I have to start leaning into this pain, to feel it so I can heal it.

The last weeks—really years—have been a challenge. So, please: let me be strong in my weakness. Grant me the freedom to grieve in fits and starts. To get messy and make mistakes. Love me enough to let it be without judgment, without condemnation. Understand that I can be laughing and whole one second, and then suddenly be taken into a pit where the light looks a thousand miles away and memories are so strong I can taste, hear, touch them.

Know that I cannot be the same person I was three weeks ago (and come to realize none of us are ever really the same from day to day), but if you can be a little patient with me, I will come through this a more loving, compassionate, alive person. More Me.

Realize that what you get might not be complete right now, but it’s the best I have to offer in every moment. Please don’t let that prevent you from talking to me. I am building a new life now, creating a new family.

Also, please embrace this tip: if you can’t think of what to say, stick to the standard “I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say” which is much better than the recently, not well-received “Well, at least you won’t have to go through that again!” (Seriously, anyone who says that to a grieving person should duck for cover).

Here I sit on my first “solo” Monday (family all went home), slowly “coming down” from the panic of last night and this morning. Working to use this amped-up energy coursing through my body for good (verses dipping my foot in the chaos pool). Starting to realize that grief has changed its face this time around…

Thankful for people who listen and don’t judge, who will forgive the moments of insanity that may show up again in this process. Grateful for everyone’s support and for being reminded to listen to the voice within, take it to the Earth/Sea, that it’s ok to cry (or not) and that living my grief will be different this time.

For those also in the grieving process,he re are some tips to avoid dipping in the crazy pond:

1. Rest

Get plenty of rest (I’m going to work on this one; I’m going tonight to get passionflower and melatonin).

2. Get out into nature

The ions are healing and, let’s face it, just seeing the natural beauty around us is a great reminder that life is good, it all works out in the end and nature helps us let go of the constant chatter in our heads.

3. Eat well and take your vities

Your body, mind, heart and soul just took a “hit” so treat yourself with love, caring and respect by getting plenty of water, fruits, veggies and maybe adding some immune support, vitamins and minerals to the mix.

4. Stay grounded

Watch that food, alcohol, exercise etc. don’t become a way to avoid facing reality. Having said that, I’m totally eating more chocolate and going to savor every bite! Life’s too short not to enjoy!

5. Do things that make you feel joyful

Listen to music you enjoy, dance in your living room, watch funny TV shows, etc. Anything that makes you feel better and live in the present moment joyfully for at least awhile each day.

6. Be alone

Enjoy solo time to cry, scream, read, rest, meditate, pray, do nothing or some activity you truly enjoy.

7. Replenish your heart and soul.

This may even mean hiding from the world for a few days to get your bearings back. Just be mindful that you’re restoring, not running away (although a few days of running away is sure to be ok; just know that eventually, we always catch-up to ourselves).

8. Grieve your way

Grieve in whatever messy (or not) way you need to. Don’t let others tell you how to do it or what it will look like for you. We’re all unique and we all grieve differently. My grief has looked totally different for my grandmas than my uncles and aunts. My process for dad was completely different than what I’m currently experiencing with mom.

9. Be forgiving to yourself

Don’t be surprised if panic and irrational fears pop-up. I’m a bit clingy the past two days— I guess it’s my brain’s way of trying not to lose any more people I care about.

10. Keep the faith

Surround yourself with truly supportive people, places and things. It doesn’t matter if others think these things are good for you or not; if they build you up and aren’t harmful, go for it. Not everyone in your circle is going to get along with each other. Tough shit for them. This is your process. They can get over it or move on. Take care of yourself.

If all else fails, tell yourself what I must say 20 times a day: “Millions of people go through this every day, I can and will get through, and come out a better, brighter me.”

Then, curl up in a ball and cry. Seriously. Sometimes you just need to be that four-year-old kid who wants a hug from mom or dad (partner, best friend, etc.) to make everything better. When those people are no longer available to do that, it hurts and it sucks.

Now, please excuse me as I take my own advice and grab some tea and chocolate.

 

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Editorial Apprentice: Jamie Khoo/Editor: Renée Picard

Photo: Satya Adt/Pixoto