Grief
As someone who just recently went through a very traumatic loss, grief has been something that I have been struggling with. For the past four months, I have spent countless hours of going over “what if’s,” “I wish I had done this,” “I regret this,” and so many other thoughts and scenarios in my head.
I know that a lot of this is common, but it doesn’t make it any less hard. I tell everyone, "They’re in a better place,” but that still doesn’t make it easier to cope with. I spend hours holding a stuffed animal that I had given to my mother, months before she passed. It smells like her, makes me think of her- but there will come a day when suddenly that scent is no longer lingering.
Get Alle Hamlin’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
That thought alone makes me want to shrivel up inside. How do you deal with grief that feels like it’s going to swallow you whole? How do you move on when there are so many things that feel unsaid, unresolved? How can you ever be okay again?
I can’t even begin to try to answer any of those questions, and I have a feeling that I may never be able to answer them. I’m taking life one day at a time, and it’s still not easy. I miss my mother. I regret so many things. I wish I could time travel, just to hear her voice again- terrified of forgetting the sound of her laugh. I hold all of the photos of her to my heart dearly, because I never want to forget her face.
The one thing I have learned from grief? It’s a teacher. It taught me to rely on my family more now than I ever have in my entire life. It has taught me that it’s okay to break down, as long as you get back up again. It taught me to stop bottling my emotions up. For now, I’m still taking life one day at a time. I’m cherishing every moment, even on the days that are the hardest.
Grief has also taught me that no matter what life throws at you, there’s always a rainbow at the end of the tunnel- just waiting for you to see it. I still haven’t found my rainbow at the end of this long, painful tunnel, but when I do? I know the view is going to be worth it.
I miss you, mom. I love you.
