How’s it Feel, like Really Feel?

How does it feel to be grieving a year later? 

It’s different, but I’m not sure how much so. I know a lot hasn’t happened that I expected, and a lot of things have come up that I never saw coming. 

As far as this loss goes, it’s a wound. A year ago I got two huge cuts, one down each side from my armpits to my hips. Normally healing these kinds of things starts with the mourning; with sharing the collective loss with the community and those who knew them. Sharing the loss, the stories and the pain helps to close the wound a bit, it’s not healed but it’s on it’s way. 

There was no collective mourning here however, and the day my dad died was the last time I saw anyone blood-related to him. 

Skipping this step it feels as if the cuts have scabbed over, maybe even started to grow scar tissue but they’re anything but healthy.

Healing might not be the linear process we’d expect. What seems to be an old wound suddenly starts to warm, and I can feel the swelling from under my skin. There’s infection, something that needs release before the body can stitch everything back together. As painful as the infection becomes the urge to try and force it out is strong. 

Thing is, you can’t just force the bad away. You need to get rid of it, for sure, but that takes time. Maybe just some TLC, maybe a round of antibiotics. Only thing I know is when you squeeze a pimple it gets 10x worse. Same goes for Grief. 

So the cycle has gone this year, from healing to infection; relief to pain. Right now I’m in the infection stage, that bit where it’s not ready to be drained but you know the pain is there. I was hoping that by writing I could trick myself into purging the pain. No luck there.

Sunday will make it a year from the day my Dad passed, and it’s looking like I’ll be spending it alone.

Credit goes to GriefKid & thanks to UntangleGrief on instagram for sharing. It’s accounts like this that remind me I’m not the only one.


8 thoughts on “How’s it Feel, like Really Feel?

  1. I’m sorry you’ve had to mourn alone because sometimes it’s only talking about a loss with someone else that incises and drains the wound, albeit slowly. There will be many times the realisation of someone passing will hit you all over again. My wife passed away 8 years ago now and I can still be surprised. Sometimes I’ll see one of my photograps and it hits me afresh. I hope you start to heal but even more I hope you manage to get some support with the healing process.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thanks David, I hope so too. I have some great friends but it’s not the same. I’m hoping at some point to be able to share with other people who remember them, it’s just hard in the meantime.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. It would be great if there’s other family you can approach. If you’ve had a falling out in the past this could be the perfect way to reconcile, or if it’s just distance perhaps you could skype?


  2. I’m so sorry that you have had to endure this alone. Your story reminds me so much of my brother’s when he lost his wife. He did finally get that relief you are talking about when he held her memorial a year later. It was actually a bit magical as time and friends bridged the bitter gap between he and his in-laws, if only for that afternoon. We told stories and laughed and yes, we cried, too. Cultural differences made it difficult for her family to understand why he chose cremation over burial and only he knows why she asked for a delayed memorial. In the end and twelve years later, he continues to grieve her loss alone. Surround yourself with your friends and be kind to yourself. It’s quite a journey.

    Liked by 2 people

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s