Friday, October 9, 2015

Amplified Grief

I'm going to start this post by defining the word 'amplified' by using the first definition of the root word 'amplify' from dictionary.com:  to make larger, greater, or stronger; enlarge; extend.  So, how, might you ask, is your grief being amplified?

Well, as my grief still yet lingers over my sweet Cora leaving this earth, another dearest of my loves will be joining her...far too soon for me.

There is this woman who has been a part of my life since before my birth.  She's been there to nurture me just as much as my mother.  She has always been firm, but loving.  She is if nothing else, to the point.  There's no beating around the bush with her.  

There were sleepovers.  She made clothes for us.  She can cook and bake like no other...and she whistles while she does it.

As I got older, she went to school 'Open House' with me as my mom went with my sister and my dad had to work.  She attended my performances, my parades, my graduations.  She made beautiful dresses for every occasion.  

She made my wedding gown...the girls' dresses...and oh how she toiled...hand-sewing every bead onto the lace.  She was one of the first people I called when I found out I was expecting my first.  And my second.  And my third.

When we moved to Arizona, she came to visit.  She came and helped me when I dislocated my shoulder.  She looked after my children on her own.  She has sewn for them too.  She has taken us in while the girls and I stayed in NY for 3 weeks visiting friends and family.

It goes beyond all of that.  I've called her when I needed help with a recipe, when I've been working on some kind of sewing project, wanted to know how to get xyz out of a pair of pants/shorts/etc.  I've called to talk to her about everything in my life.  For quite some time, I managed to call her every day.  Every.  Day.  Full-time work and a 3 hour time difference has made my 'ritual' slack a little, but I call her at least every Saturday.

When her husband passed away 3 days before my 2nd daughter was born, I couldn't imagine any grief worse than losing him. Then, she came out here last year to help me with the girls.  And 8 days after she got here, my baby passed.  The sheer grief, angst, and devastation that rocked her while she was here, caused her to have a stroke.  I thought I was going to lose her then.  I couldn't bear to think about losing her in the same year as my Cora.  I just couldn't.  

And now, I'm faced with it.  I'm still not able to bear it.  Heck...I'm still grieving my Cora.  And while I know she's lived a good life and she's 83...I'm not quite ready to let her go.

Who is this woman?  She is my grandmother.  She is the one I call Nana. 


Sunday, October 4, 2015

100 Words

I have thought about this post, started this post, and waited to post it.  I have seen something in regards to 50 or 100 words that describe the loss of your mother, but sadly, I wasn't able to find a post that spoke about the loss of a child.  Maybe the 100 words is different for each parent and thus it is difficult to convey.  In any case, I have compiled a list of 100 words that describe the feelings I have felt, the way in which losing Cora has changed my life, my overall demeanor, or the overall feeling of losing my child. 

Here they are:

  1. lonely
  2. painful
  3. unjust
  4. depressing
  5. hurtful
  6. agony
  7. gripping
  8. tiring
  9. stressful
  10. unimaginable
  11. powerful
  12. unthinkable
  13. unfathomable
  14. gut-wrenching
  15. penetrating
  16. humbling
  17. suffocating
  18. heartbreaking
  19. anger
  20. doubt
  21. questioning
  22. self-reflection
  23. shaken
  24. crushed
  25. untouchable
  26. vulnerable
  27. scared
  28. bereaved
  29. squashed
  30. inconsolable
  31. bereft
  32. deprived
  33. lost
  34. self-absorbed
  35. focused
  36. hypersensitive
  37. inconceivable
  38. angst
  39. broken
  40. self-deprecating
  41. unfortunate
  42. unfair
  43. devastating
  44. life-changing
  45. anguish
  46. frustration
  47. disappointment
  48. despair
  49. irritable
  50. irritated
  51. alone
  52. outcast
  53. self-centered
  54. disbelief
  55. unsure
  56. apprehensive
  57. isolated
  58. empty
  59. forgotten
  60. jaded
  61. mind-blowing
  62. negative
  63. piercing
  64. quiet
  65. rough
  66. sick
  67. tested
  68. victim
  69. wronged
  70. weary
  71. zapped
  72. yearning
  73. pessimistic
  74. exhausted
  75. turbulent
  76. lackluster
  77. incapable
  78. incapacitating
  79. incomplete
  80. blasé
  81. riddled
  82. sour
  83. grumpy
  84. spent
  85. dead
  86. fractured
  87. wounded
  88. worthless
  89. needy
  90. restless
  91. reserved
  92. comatose
  93. bleak
  94. tender
  95. frightened
  96. boggled
  97. overwhelming
  98. vexed
  99. edgy
  100. doom