Healing the Heart – Allowing myself to cry

Dad-2013-03-08I allow myself to cry. I cry for what used to be. I cry for what was. And I cry for what will never now be.

Images play havoc with my mind. The smile on my mom’s face when she returned from the ER with the revelation that her abdomen was full of cancer. The way my dad looked sitting in his Gerry chair all dressed up in a suit and scarf for my mom’s funeral. Mom reaching out to cup my face between her hands, as I leaned over her bed at Hospice, responding “I love you too,” and then, “Don’t cry.” Dad waving good-bye to me from the foyer on the last day I visited before the “event” that ended with his death. Mom in the good days. Mom in the bad days. Dad crying. Dad laughing.

The images of mom and dad fight for my attention. I allow them to pass through my mind’s eye. Some insist on lingering a while. Some persist in returning. I will never forget.

It’s been a little more than three months since Mom’s cat scan thrust us all into darkness. A little less than three months since we moved Dad to the nursing home. A little less than two months since Mom breathed her last. A little more than one month since we buried Dad. The 2nd, the 4th, the 10th, the 21st, the 25th, the 12th, the 18th, the 26th, the 1st. Milestone dates marching in rapid succession.

I allow myself to cry.

It seems fruitless to do otherwise.

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Author: CMSmith

I enjoy reading, writing, gardening, photography, genealogy and travel. I have opinions about many things, but am trying to age gracefully and not continually tick people off with them. Sometimes I can’t help myself.

21 thoughts on “Healing the Heart – Allowing myself to cry”

  1. Hugs to you, Christine. It is good to be able to cry, I think. It helps. It will never take the place of your mom and dad but it helps you work through it and move to the next stage. And then you sometimes go back to the crying. And that is okay. Let yourself grieve. You had special parents and you were blessed.

    1. Thanks, Carl. It’s so good to hear from you. I have fallen off the cyber world. I hope to be amused by your postings sometime soon. I’ll get back over there. I promise.

  2. Hi Christine – totally understand where you’re at – there’s nothing you can do … except do what you want to do – that will help somewhat … it’s just those difficult times – the in and the out … is the way of healing life leads us on …. I’m glad you’re letting us know – that helps too …. it’s good for us to know and understand, while for you the outpouring will relieve the grief slightly … let those images whirr around … they’ll be there in the future, but will not be your main memory – those will be the happy times: those earlier years …

    With many thoughts – be peaceful as best you can at the weekend … and then onwards … time does heal eventually … Hilary

  3. Crying is the best way to heal although I’m sure it doesn’t feel like it at times. I’m guessing you already know that. You are in my thoughts and prayers.

  4. I think Mark is strong enough to weather a few cloudbursts. I’m sure he feels helpless to “fix” things. Thanks for sharing your thoughts with us. Hugs!

  5. I’m crying as I read this, Christine.

    Meanwhile the thought that races through my mind is how handsome your dad is in the photo. The look of serenity on his face lends to his looking so wonderful.

    hold that look…in your memory… 🙂

    1. It was a difficult time we passed through. I love this picture of my dad too. He was so handsome and serene that morning. And he looked so dignified. He would have loved it.

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