Thursday, April 20, 2006

Blog the Second

"If you have ever lost someone very important to you, then you already know how it feels, and if you haven't, you cannot possibly imagine it." -Lemony Snicket, "A Series Of Unfortunate Events"

Motherless Daughters carry around with them a deep internal despair that at times seems as if it will never, ever go away. It hurts in your heart, all the time, especially at the beginning. The pain is so tremendous you cannot fathom how anyone could even understand, let alone offer any solace, or grant your secret wish to take the pain away.

When I was having my moments, and feeling my Mother's loss so intensely, my friends would come to comfort me. And while most of them had not experienced a loss of their own, and honestly admitted they could not possibly imagine it, it was nice just having them there. Wrapped in the arms of my buddies (thank you Sque!) I always, in time, felt better. I learned my most important lessons about grieving from people who could not imagine, and had not experienced, a loss like my own.

So here's lesson 1: Don't let your pain keep you apart from others.

(Some of them really do understand)

While the reason you hurt may be different from most (I wish there weren't more Motherless Daughters than there are), the fact that you hurt is a truth that many can claim as their own. Your friend at work, who cries at night because she was dumped by her boyfriend, might be just the person to offer you the comfort you need, even though it may seem her type of loss could not possibly compare. At that moment, she hurts like you, and you'll come to find it really doesn't matter why.

Opening up to the possibility that anyone can help you, even your neighbor's three-year-old, allows you so many more chances for simply just feeling better, even for a time. For a Motherless Daughter, those small moments, those breaks, are usually exactly what we need.

I encourage you then, to keep your eyes and hearts open for the people (or the pets even!) who are, without a doubt, going to make you feel better. I encourage you to string together a few of those good moments because at some point you may find you've made a whole day out of them. Playdoh is a great way to get a good moment. So are Oreo cookies.

And finally, don't let your pain keep you apart from others, at least not for long, because some of them really do understand.

-TL

5 comments:

gogo_jojo said...

Your comments are truly heartfelt. I'm glad I stumbled upon your blog. Please continue posting...

Cory said...

I found you through Fightin' Mad Mary, and I'm glad I did. I hope that this can be a positive outlet for you. My mom lost her mom at 15. We both read Hope Edelman's book and it made it clear to me how my grandmother's death has had such an impact on every area of my mom's life. I'll be checking back in on you.

Anonymous said...

i found this blog at random, and i think it was meant to be because i have been a motherless daughter for my whole life. now my mother is sick, and she is dying and im lost. so lost. keep posting. i'll be keeping up with your blog.

TL said...

gogo, cory and jane - thank you guys so much for stopping by. You three are my first connections that are not already known friends or family. While I hoped I'd reach someone out in the great beyond, I thought it a long shot that it would actually happen.

Yet here you guys are. Thanks :)

Anonymous said...

I hope your own mourning process has continued and mellowed since you made this post. I've found, oddly enough, enormous comfort in the movie Series of Unfortunate Events and was trying to track down the line that comes after "f you have ever lost someone very important to you, then you already know how it feels; and if you haven't, you cannot possibly imagine it."

In solidarity,

Laura