Skip to main content

Grief Isn't Easy.....




Hi my name is Ashley and I am a mother, daughter, sister, niece, cousin, aunt and friend. I am sensitive and get my feelings hurt easily. I am respectful of my elders and to people in general. I am a loyal and honest friend who would drop what I am doing to come help you. I am broken hearted and sad most of the time. I day dream about the future, but question if I will live long enough to experience it. I sometimes don’t feel worthy of love. I often wonder who would love me and why would they love me. I question where I belong in this world. I have friends, but each of us are in different places in our lives that it’s hard to know where I fit into their lives, and theirs into mine.

 I’m a bereaved mom. I try very hard to live this life and become someone and make a life for myself that doesn’t always reflect the fact that I have a dead daughter. I am discovering that, that is impossible. I have a dead daughter and that isn’t going to change. She is my life and how can I have a life that doesn’t reflect her beautiful soul?

I am a motherless and fatherless daughter. Each death was very different and each one knocked the breath out of me. I have tried my best to move forward since my mother’s death, but I am finding it hard to do. I am sad more often than not, and I often get frustrated and judge my own grief because I think, it’s not supposed to hurt this much, I’ve lost a child why does this hurt so much? Though I feel as if I can’t express that. I’ve lost a child and that grief is like no other so how can I express just how much my mother’s death hurts my heart?

I am not the person I once was. Death has changed me and the death of my mother has changed me into a person I’m not sure I recognize.

I am more like my mother, the mother I tried so desperately to not be like. I did not want to be like her, but here I am seeing in me, her.


I am finding my way in this life and I am sad more often than not but I am doing the best I can. Accept me for who I am, all of me or don’t. I miss my mom, I miss my daughter, and I miss me. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Closing the Book of my Childhood...

Growing up I went to my Nana and Papa's house frequently. She would keep us weeks at a time in the summers. Nana was for a grandmother but also didn't take any back talk or attitude. When I was 10 years old, I moved in with Nana and Papa. My room was downstairs, without a door and had the washer and dryer in the room. Eventually they put on saloon like doors for a little privacy. I lived there until I turned 13. Big years living with your grandparents. Vital years really, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. I always felt connected to my Nana. We were a lot a like. I still wonder what she would think of me now and how I turned out. I would help around the property, help plant cactus (and laugh hysterically together after because we were so sweaty and gross), helped feed the animals, water the trees, water the plants, ride my bike all the time. I actually played out doors every day. Sometimes I was allowed to eat ice cream for dinner when no one wanted to c...
6 comments
Read more

Graduation, Weeping Willows and Love

I have often thought about the analogy of trees and wind. Trees need to be flexible when the winds blow or they would break and not survive the storm. Rigid, stubborn trees trying hard to go against the wind grow tired, weary and broken. Fluid and flexible trees go with the flow of the wind, bending and bouncing back after a storm.  When I began my journey of becoming a social worker I was the stubborn rigid tree trying hard to control everything around me falling apart in the process. This became more of a challenge than allowing the wind to do what it does and go with whatever direction it goes. It was exhausting. I would come unhinged quickly, shut down and not stay with my emotions. Friends have told me that they saw it happen right before their eyes. 2 years ago I started the MSW program. I was fragile, unstable, rigid, shut down, broken and lost. I never thought the day would come for me to get my Master’s. Graduation felt like a million years away. Every class...
Post a Comment
Read more

10 Years Without You Mom....

10 years ago today, I experienced the second worst day of my life. I found my mother dead in her bed. Even 10 years later, when I say those words it takes my breath away. I know it's not a very delicate way to say it but it's the truth. I don't relive every detail like I did for many years. For years, following her death, I couldn't get those images out of my head. Every detail from the moment I unlocked the door, to the funeral home taking her away. Each moment played out often. What an absolutely awful day it was.  The days leading up to her death also haunted me. I always felt I didn't do enough. She died sad and alone in an apt that was horrible. I had reached a point in her alcoholism of distancing myself. I couldn't handle the heartache and the broken promises and the constantly finding her drunk and the drunk phone calls. I distanced myself and she died. The what if's, the shoulda, coulda, woulda's were ruthless. I still hear her voice the last ti...
Post a Comment
Read more