Warning: My post is all about grief, really, my grief and is sad as hell

There's nothing shameful about grief, not in your circumstances. We, as a society, do a lot of faux-grief, a lot of crying when Whitney Houston or Andy Griffith or Neil Armstrong dies. But that's not grief, not the kind that you're experiencing. Yours is important, necessary even. You can't move on without considering what you're moving on from. And love's a funny thing, how one moment someone can be a stranger, the next they can be your life.

My dad died a few years ago, and my mom went into her standard expression of sadness: She poured herself into everything she could. Here's a woman in her 60s, recently widowed, volunteering to take close care of her friend with terminal cancer. She poured herself into her work, where grief is around every corner because of the nature of it.

For a while, it helped. Then, her friend with terminal cancer died. Things got a little worse at work. And about a year ago, I came home to find her heartbreakingly lonely. That's the thing, though, you can't escape real grief. And it takes a lot to express it properly.

My point is this: What you're feeling are real, important emotions, emotions you're going to need in the healing process whether it seems like it now or not. You're at an important point, though, one in which you can let these emotions define you or turn them into something positive.

I echo a lot of the thoughts posted on this thread, but I want to add one: Never be ashamed. If you need to cry, even in an inappropriate place, just cry. Let it out. Then move on, not with one of those fake smiles but with whatever expression or emotion you need to feel genuine. If you're honest with yourself and with your friends, as you've been honest with us, a bunch of strangers, you'll heal much faster.

My mom has a boyfriend now, which is a strange concept for a guy my age, particularly since I've been single awhile. She's more relaxed, less stressed out even as her job situation has worsened. She seems happier than she'd been in years, even before my dad's death, as his declining health sucked a lot out of her.

You can move on. And we'll be here to support you, as best we can.

 

God Bless you, Amy.

You're in my prayers.

 

Great posts on this thread.

 

I have told my loved ones that "if something were to happen with me, just remember me well, and do me the best tribute by not being paralyzed by my passing; life goes on, and I want you to as well, and I just hope good memories of me can help. Don't shut your heart and smile away."

I suspect that most of us would say something like that. Of course, it's one of those things we always see as a hypothetical; when the reality sadly hits, I'm sure it's not easy for the ones left behind to embrace something like that. I guess I don't have anything beyond this muddle, other than to say, best to you.

 

Oh Amy, thank you for sharing and letting us know what's going on with you. After reading through all these thoughtful posts, all I can do is offer my support, virtual (((((hugs)))))) and prayers. PM if you ever want to talk.

 

First, thanks to the two people who, knowing I was hurting, encouraged me to post something despite my initial reluctance.

I so appreciate your sharing your own experiences, thoughts and suggestions. There is something that resonates with me in each of your responses. You’ve given me much to think about – in a very positive way.

I got to Three Friends Park just before 7 this morning. I had it to myself during the hour I spent there. It was good.

 

I think we're all glad you posted.

It resulted in a beautiful thread, and hopefully you know you are not alone, and that your grief is warranted, normal, and even healthy.

You're going to be fine. And, you will have wonderful memories of your time with an amazing person.

 

My paths rarely crossed with Craig on here, and I don't think we've interacted, Amy. Nonetheless, my thoughts are with you.

Very wise words. Companionship is essential to healing.

 

My wife and I lost our 16-year-old son in 2004. A lot of people who have posted are trying to help you through their own experiences with grief. Everyone is speaking from the heart but you probably already knew that.
If I could give you one bit of advice it's to have as much personal contact with family and friends you love as you can. I know there's a tendency, as you said, to shut yourself off. Emails and facebook communication isn't enough. It will help in the long run if you visit, see people or talk on the phone. Really, it will help, especially during the holidays.
I know the feeling not being able to breathe at times when a memory comes flooding back. I've also found that as time goes by, there will be days when his passing feels like it happened a hundred years ago, and days when it feels like 10 minutes ago. Think about the good times as much as you can. Talk about the good times with family and friends. And every day you get through makes you a little bit stronger.

 

exactly what hondo said, and here's what i have: i watched my older brother die when i was 5. he was 8. the only thing that helped me deal with it as a kid was realizing that life isn't/wasn't fucking fair and learning to cope with that fact. the hardest thing for me was always wondering how much different (better) things would have been if he would have lived.
it took me 20 years before i wrote a column about that guy and actually told people i had a brother, cause i wanted to avoid talking about him/accepting that fact for all those years. i never talked about him with other people all that time, and that shit just isn't healthy.
take one of your friend's calls. s/he only wants to help, and i'm guessing you need it more than you think.

that's all i have. i'm terribly sorry for your loss, and i wish you luck getting back on your feet ... because you can.

 

I'm sorry you're dealing with all of this. I know it's a very difficult time. I know from experience that there are going to be good days and bad days as you deal with the grief.

I also know that some losses remain with you longer than others. My aunt died in 1999 after complications due to diabetes. To this day, I don't know if I ever "got over it" completely. And what is "getting over it," really? By what definition? And if getting over someone means not thinking about him or her on a daily basis, do I really want that? Should I?

I know the tendency to want to withdraw, but remember that people want to do what they can to help. Sometimes, that help may be becoming a shoulder to cry on. Sometimes, that help may be lending a supportive ear and listening while you talk. Sometimes, it may be going out to your distraction of choice and having a fun day. Nothing is going to fill the void Craig left in your life, but you can start or strengthen some of the relationships that are still there in your life.

Craig was a remarkable man who led a remarkable, if all too short, life. You loved him and he loved you. Hell, I believe he STILL does. And just remember, we're here for you too.