I didn't write this week not only because I am pretty sure I'd never read a blog about grieving, but because the process is stupid. If someone told you the only way to attain a goal was to undergo an intense process filled fatigue, anger, bitterness, incessant tears, doubts and loneliness....would you take on the process?
Jen and I spent a instant messenger conversation debating over who was more responsible for Zoe's death. Each of us was/is sure we are more responsible. It's a debate that will not be resolved, and frankly, since medicine will happily slap a "T18" label on her death, the very label we battled from minute one of Zoe's life....no one else will offer an opinion.
We fill our days with busywork, but there's still time to be haunted, time to long. Time to wish for less and more of the day. Time to wish I could talk to my Dad, the wise counselor who always brought me back to the cross.
Walking around the store for Valentine's day trying to figure out what to get Jen. And knowing that Jen wants nothing but Zoe. So, it's likely this stupid plant with tiny heart-shaped leaves will not suffice. No matter, my card was declined. Leave the store filled with tears and guilt and anger.
One man, trying to be kind on the way out of church, told me he, too had lost his daughter. He said after four years of anger, he was able to find peace.
Four years? This is what we get?
When you're going through this, there's a common theme...you have a good moment, a good day or night, and then you feel sickened by the thought that you actually might be "over" it. And Zoe was not something you want to be "over." So you go back to jail, do not pass go, do not collect anything. You start to associate the only way you can truly miss her ...them...is to hurt.
Not to mention that the entire grieving thing seems 100% counter to Christianity, the cross, and Heaven. Zoe being able to live and not fight for life every day in Heaven is our solace. Dad free from all that encumbered him is peace to me. This grieving seems like chains of every evil - so I catch myself living in them and begin a new spiral - feeling guilty for feeling guilty. Feeling guilty for feeling angry for feeling alone.
See? You didn't want to read this, and writing it seemed like whining. But you want in this terrible head? You got it.
LinkWithin
