Grieving Nika

My journey through personal loss

It’s gonna be a hard road. It’s gonna take strength, grit and courage. Adapting in stages, we have rearranged our lives since the diagnosis. We slowed our pace, we changed our routine, we tried new ways of doing things. I would share special sweet moments knowing that they were becoming more and more limited. My mind would wander to the day you might be gone, but I would feel grateful that you were still here. Loss taught me a long time ago to celebrate the special moments as if they might be the last. Thankfully, I made sure we took all our last photos together at Christmas and we planned short get aways for you to participate in this whole past year. You enjoyed your moments by the fire and the chance to see the new destinations.

We have had an awesome life together celebrating accomplishments, moving to new homes, welcoming new friends into our lives and grieving some precious ones that we lost. You were there in the most intimate moments of my life. It’s odd not to have you here for this moment. The moment that you are gone. You were my comfort, my companion, you were part of my heart. Nothing I tried to do has entirely prepared me for this. Or maybe I thought my preparations would make the pain less severe. But, here’s the thing, when you love deeply, you grieve deeply. There is just no way around it. My heart will ache deep into my soul as my mind has to adjust to your absence in all the usual places.

Now I get up and try to find my way through the day. Things seem shallow and lacking in meaning. My need to be silent overpowers the scheduled things of the day. It will take time to put your things away. Right now they are reminders and memories. People try to help, but there are no words. Sadness hangs low in the air like a dense fog clouding everything I see. A smile is forced and polite thank yous are uttered in response to extensions of support while I remain cocooned in my grief.

Experience has taught me that this is a temporary time to be honored. Your memory is worthy or that. Life will wait. Time will allow for a “new normal” to emerge. I must focus on the life we had together and all the joy we shared. In review of all of that, we have lived well, laughed often and loved deeply. For that I am forever grateful. Farewell my sweet little girl, mommy loves you. Run free for now. Praying I will see you again. May the angel’s wings surround you.

If you are, or someone you know is, struggling with grief or loss contact us at Barrington Behavioral Health and Wellness. Phone: 888-261-2178 or email: help@barringtonbhw.com