Land Mines
This morning I woke up from a disturbing dream. I was sitting at an outdoor cafe, and my friend Katie, along with some family and friends, walked past on the sidewalk, pretending that they didn’t know me. I caught up with them, and asked one of the friends what was wrong, why was Katie mad at me? “Because you didn’t bring a gift to her funeral.” Oh. Rats. I should have done that. Wait, I DID bring a gift…I brought a framed photo of Katie and Janet and me. Perhaps my card with the gift had gone missing. I was so sad to have Katie mad at me. Later, her husband, Tom, came and gave me a hug and told me it was all OK.
I woke up, upset. Pain close to the surface, as it always seems to be these days. Sigh. I mean, a gift at a funeral? Katie, petty enough to be mad about it? Not even close to reality. Then I looked at the calendar, and saw, June 15th. 15 years ago, my mom died. It was Father’s Day that year, and when I called my dad to tell him, he thought I was calling to wish him a happy Father’s Day. Fast forward to 2017, Father’s Day, the last time I talked to my dad before he left for his beautiful Italian vacation, the vacation where he suffered a heart attack and died. All of these things are so close together in my mind and my heart. So many losses.
Monday I was feeling stronger. I only cried once all day, and that was because I was showing Maya the clip from ‘The Miracle Worker’, where Anne puts Helen’s hand under the pump and spells ‘W-A-T-E-R’ for her, and the light bulb goes off in Helen’s mind, and she is suddenly not quite so alone in the silent darkness. Gah, that scene ALWAYS gets me. Why was I showing her that scene? We were talking about the mid-Atlantic convenience store chain, WaWa, which always reminds me of Helen’s hand under that pump. I found a WaWa T-Shirt online that I confess to almost buying. Maybe I will. I like a good v neck t-shirt for walking.
Then Tuesday, I was out walking one of my regular morning walks, and a woman I often see asked me where my dog was. I started crying, and told her how he had died. She gave me a kind hug, let me pet her dog. Told me she understood, and how hard it was when her other dog died last year (also from cancer). How it was tied up in her heart with her father’s death later in the year. How glad she was that she was going to have her mother move in with her soon, so she could take care of her mom. It was a nice moment of connection, though I still don’t know her name. I got myself together, and a few blocks later, a man walked by, a man I have clearly seen before, but whom I did not recognize, and he asked me where my dog was. I just made a sad face and shook my head, and he said how sorry he was. So I went to the park and cried there, looking at the turtles.
The weird thing is, of course I am sad about losing Mulder. About losing Katie, and my mom, and my dad. But what gets me crying is thinking about ME. About how sad I am. About how quiet the house is. Thinking about crying gets me crying. I’m trying to focus more on how thankful I am that I had Mulder, and Katie, and my parents. I’m stronger, for sure, but it does feel sometimes like there are land mines everywhere, reminding me of my grief.
22 Comments
Suzanne
Oh honey. I wish I could wrap you up in such a big hug right now. All these losses — of course you are still in mourning.
It is so hard on anniversaries, too, because either they appear ahead of you and you see them coming and there’s anticipatory anxiety before the grief… or they come at you out of nowhere and suddenly you remember, oh yes, this is why I’m so sad.
Landmines indeed.
Holding you in my heart.
J
Thanks Suzanne, anticipatory grief and anxiety has been a big part of my life since Mulder’s lymphoma came back. I resisted it as much as I could, I felt like it was robbing me of precious time. I wan’t very successful.
Margaret
So hard to have so many memories, poignant and painful, hit you all at once. It’s overload and your brain, through the dream, is trying to process those emotions. December is my very difficult time of year when I think a lot about losses and revisit the past. Thinking of you! xoxo
J
Thank you Margaret, it’s strange how we have these times when we just have to get through them, isn’t it? June and early July for me. Sigh.
Zazzy
Your grief is all about you, it’s supposed to be. Grief is for the living, what we’ve lost. Our loved ones are no longer in pain, no longer scared of what’s happening. We are the ones that are left without them.
Landmines is a perfect way to describe those moments when the grief we thought we were dealing with comes and overwhelms us. For me, it isn’t about birthdays or anniversaries, it’s the small things. Like when I still reach for the phone to call my mom or when a thunderstorm is near and I can almost feel my dog Fred pressed tight against me – to protect me of course.
J
Zazzy, of course you are right, grief is for those of us left behind. Thanks for making me feel better about that.
Thunderstorms always make me think of our dog Genevieve, who was SO SCARED and went into the closet to hide, where she peed on my shoes. Of course, with our loss of Mulder being so recent, there are so many small things. A neighbor walking by, without being barked at. Getting up in the morning and not needing to put him out or feed him. Sigh.
Kyria @ Travel Spot
I am sending a big hug your way! It is strange how grief sometimes creeps up on you. I had an uncle die of cancer in 2010 and I still sometimes think about calling him, or look at a photo that reminds me of him and get that feeling that washes over me… also my cat passed away in February and I still see him laying on the couch! Then I realize it is a shadow, or a blanket, or something else. Or I get home and wonder why he has not padded up to greet me. I try to use these moments to remember and reflect, but it is not always that simple.
J
Kyria, yes, exactly. I try to use these moments the same ways, but it is complicated and all tied together. So much loss in a lifetime, and as I get older there is just MORE of it.
nance
Oh, Julie. Grief is exactly a field sown with landmines.
I understand how you are feeling. Grief and Loss make connections, and you feel a compounded sense of Pain. I’m sending you all my love and strength. I wish I could be right there in person for you. XO
J
Gosh Nance, wouldn’t that be nice if you were here? We could go for a walk and come home and have some wine and laugh and maybe cry a bit.
Lisa of Lisa's Yarns
Oh friend, I wish I could give you a hug even though I am kind of a stranger to you and that might be creepy. 😉 But I’m sending you virtual hugs from Minnesota. My friend who lost her mom almost 10 years ago also describes these experiences are grief landmines. You have no idea when you are going to encounter one and then BAM – the grief levels you. My husband lost his dad 10 years ago this summer – his dad died 6 days after my husband’s birthday so the 2 events in forever linked in everyone’s mind – or at least the minds of me, my MIL and Phil, I think. As his birthday approaches, I’m thinking of his dad’s death anniversary. Similarly, Father’s Day will forever be associated with the losses you’ve incurred.
Is it helpful for people to notice Mulder’s absence or does it make it worse? I am glad you had a consoling conversation with another pet owner who gets what you are going through!
J
Thanks Lisa, I don’t know why your comments always get stuck and need moderation. Sigh.
I think it’s helpful for people to notice Mulder, to care about him and me. But it brings it to the front of my mind and makes the pain more in my face again. So the answer is, both.
It is indeed hard when a death gets connected in your mind with a happy event, and that makes it a bit more poignant, right? My dad died 2 days after my wedding anniversary. I’m glad it wasn’t the same day, but yeah, they are still tied together for me. Sigh.
Nicole MacPherson
Oh gosh, I am so sorry. Those anniversaries are so hard, and then losing your friend and beloved dog as well. Grief is so difficult and sneaky. It pops up at unexpected times.
I have never seen the Miracle Worker but I read the book and I remember thinking how absolutely lonely it would be in her body, unable to communicate or participate in the world around her.
J
You’ve never seen the Miracle Worker??? Get on that.
Thank you for your kind thoughts.
Ally Bean
I understand about land mines of grief. They pop into my mind at the oddest moments, and then linger, their debris destroying my former happiness. I don’t know that there is anything to do about them happening other than to live through them, understanding as The Bloggess says, “depression lies.”
J
Thanks Ally, you are right. I’m happily going along and then some poignant moment happens and breaks my heart. Why is life this way?
Elisabeth
I’m so sorry. Loss is so hard and grief can hit at such unexpected times. While finding sources of joy is wonderful and necessary, it’s okay to cry, too. Sometimes I find I bottle things up and only delay the healing. Sometimes I just need to let the grief out. It will ebb and flow, but I try to fight less and feel more.
Sending hugs and wishing you peace in these challenging times <3
J
Thank you Elisabeth. I’m not very good at bottling things up, but I find that I try, and it’s usually a mistake.
San
Oof. This time of year holds a lot of sad memories for you now, so no wonder it’s full of emotional landmines. Yes, it’s good to focus on the fact that you had these wonderful people and Mulder in your life, but it doesn’t make grief easier. Many hugs.
Love and pain are closely interconnected. I love the saying from Winnie the Pooh ” How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.” A.A. Milne
J
Thanks San, Nance said something similar from Milne’s most famous character, Winnie the Pooh. It does help sometimes.
Stephany
I often have these dreams about my grandfather (who died 3 years ago very unexpectedly) and he’s always mad at me and won’t talk to me. He was the OPPOSITE when he was alive, and it always makes me so sad. Why does our subconscious have to do that to us? Just give us happy dreams, please!
I am so sorry that this is a tough time of year for you. And to have the grief of Mulder on top of it. It’s so hard, but you’re doing what you need to do: you’re feeling your feelings and opening up to other people. <3 Sending you a big virtual hug!
J
Thank you Stephany! I’m not sure whether it’s better or worse to have this on top of other things, kind of all together. Maybe it’s best to get them all out of the way (emotionally) at once? And yeah, why can’t we just have good dreams of those who are gone? My mom died in 2008, and I don’t think I had a good dream about her for 4 or 5 years. I was so glad when I finally did. Now I think of them as visits with her, which I like.