So as you know, my cousin died on Thursday night/Friday morning (depending on your time zone and I’ve been saying both, I think, depending on who I’m talking to). And I thought maybe I should write this post as both an explanation and apology to those who know me.
First, I am really, really not good at talking about people once they’re gone. I tend to cry and there are few things I hate more than the thought of crying in front of people (except for actually crying in front of people). I know that my friends wouldn’t judge or think less of me, obviously. It’s just a thing I have.
Second, asking me how I am is sort of like playing Russian roulette, as Lindsey found out over the weekend. Nine times out of ten, you will get, “I’m doing about as well as can be expected. Thank you.” And oh, that tenth time. I tend to get weird and inappropriate. (Lindsey, for example, learned my fear that, when I get up to speak at the funeral, I will just say “This fucking sucks,” and go sit back down again. To be fair, Rodger would think it was very funny. But the rest of the family would not.) So if you get me on the tenth time, too, I’m sorry.
Third, I’m not really sleeping or eating. But while I’m insanely tired during the day (especially during my work shifts), it’s like the second I get into bed, my brain turns all the way on. And the food thing is very weird because I tend to eat my feelings. (I told Lindsey that, too. Sorry, L.) So I think my filter is starting to erode more and more.
Fourth, please, please talk to me about other things. Good topics include books and the Oscars. A former coworker Tweeted me on Saturday to ask about book recommendations and I gave her a bunch and then she saw on Facebook about Rodger and felt horrible. But honestly, it was good. I like when people ask me about books and I especially like not being the grieving girl. (Especially when I am. So getting me out of my head is actually a mitzvah.) So by all means, ask me what books you should read (Gone Girl) and who should win Best Picture (Amour, but it will be Lincoln).
Fifth, I have gone stupid. SERIOUSLY. While I’m sure you’ve heard of pregnancy brain, I have grief brain. On Saturday, I forgot how to spell “meteorologist.” So don’t expect much from me now.
Sixth and finally, you know that song “Fix You” by Coldplay? You may or may not know this, but it was written for Gwyneth Paltrow after her dad died. There is a line in the chorus that goes, “Lights will guide you home…” which I think is beautiful. And thank you for being the light that’s guiding me home. This is a dark time, but you guys are the light. And I appreciate that so much.
Oh Kelly! Thanks for sharing! So good to know all this about you and I can definitely dish about books and ask for Oscar opinions if that helps out! I know Friday will be hard but it will be also be so good to gather with friends and family and honor Rodger. Love you bunches!
Love you too, Steph. So much. :)
Thanks for sharing, Kelly. I will definitely ask you about books and films. I thought ‘The Pull of Gravity’ rated ahead of ‘Gone Girl’ :)
It’s hard to compare them, as my beloved The Pull of Gravity has no sociopaths in it. But yes, OBVIOUSLY read TPoG first. :)
Kelly that was sweet…I’m so sorry and love you so much!
I’m sorry for you and Marley! It wasn’t enough time for either of you. For any of us, but really especially for you two. I love you both so much.
Ah grief. I don’t think there’s any right or wrong way to experience it. Or to live with it. After each of my parents died, people told me I seemed so “together” but would crumble at the oddest and most unexpected connections.
Be yourself, remember all the good, embrace your loss, keep living.
Thanks, Steve. Yeah, it’s always the weird stuff that gets you, right?
Grief. There is no right way or wrong way to grieve. What works for you may be a complete 180 for another person. Some people dig in, hide and grieve quietly. Other people announce their grief from the roof tops. No wrong and no right. Just keep moving down the path and at some point in time you will find that the pain of the loss does not hurt near as deep or near as sharp as it does right now.
♥♥♥(((hugs)))♥♥♥
Thanks, Trish. :)
I know that this week is going to be hard but at least next week, my life will be back to its schedule. I like schedules and routines. But then we’ll also be back in our separate places. That’ll be hard, too.
When I said grief is an “odd fellow” on FB I just wanted to let you know, there is no right and wrong. Much like people above are telling you.
When my best friend died of ovarian cancer, I buried it so deep inside, I’m still trying to figure out how to get through it. Her death is one I haven’t dealt with. I didn’t sleep for days after she died, and it was one of the darkest times in my life. I don’t talk about it.
When my mom died it was a bit more in my face… I had a bazillion other people to take care of immediately afterward. I woke up at 6am everyday just so I could get through the day, dealing with/helping everyone else so I could drop every night at 10pm. I slept like a rock. That was my life for about two years. Get up so I can get through the day and go to bed.
Anyway… you know death and grief from such a tender age, but every relationship is unique. And so is the grieving experience for each and every one that passes.
I wish you peace and some sleep. <3 and hugs
Thanks, Gunderson. (I always call you that in my head.)
I think the first way you described was how I dealt with my dad dying. We don’t discuss that. This is weird; I’m still working (going home tomorrow; leaving Saturday) and there’s this unreality with all of it.
Don’t you dare apologize. I love you, even if I have to deal with some side of you that you think is less worthy. I don’t care if you eat your feelings or are a total mess or just want to say that the whole thing fucking sucks, because despite how you may behave in a moment of grief and pain you’re still you, and you’re still worthy of love and respect, and sometimes pain does awful things to people and that’s okay.
I’m here for you whenever that one time you need to really lose it is coming around the bend. (((HUGS)))
Lindsey, I really wish I had a friend like you when my loved ones died. You’re pretty good at this.
Everyone on her list hates me because I suck at saying the right thing. But just know for what it’s worth, your words will give her immense peace. And that’s all I wish for Kelly. I feel so sad for her pain. I know that pain and I am sad that nothing I can say or do will fix it. That’s my job in life: I fix things. I can’t fix this.
Is there really a right thing to say? I think the relationship behind the words matters far more, and it seems like you get the fact that grief messes people up and you’re not just throwing stuff around, you’re trying to be supportive. Which matters way more than saying the “right thing”, if such a thing even exists.
When I’ve lost people in my own life it helped so much that people wanted to be there and talk to me even if I wanted them to shut up. Knowing people care can be the one thing that keeps a person anchored in all of the grief and pain and moments of what feels like insanity (But it’s not insanity, Kel, you’re just in pain and the brain sometimes has to have a tantrum, it’ll get better). I’m so glad for Kelly’s sake that so many people care about her and are staying present for her.
I wish we could get together and throw stuff around.
You’re helping, too! I think every time someone doesn’t say something about God’s plan or how I should be feeling, they’re saying the right thing and they’re helping.
Thanks, Lindsey. I really appreciate this (and you, and everyone).