Grief = Exhaustion, Then and Now

For three days - from the time I arrived at the hospital on the Friday evening of the accident through that next Monday - I didn't sleep much.  The slight reprieve on Saturday night, when we knew there would be no change in Kitty's condition, was the one night I got a just-OK night's rest.

So, by late Monday afternoon, when we left the hospital, my mind was still reeling, but my body was done.  My daughter wanted - no NEEDED - our family, including aunts, uncles and cousins, to come together.  She wanted people who loved her to surround her.

That meant everyone would gather at my house - and they did.

While at the hospital, I called a friend who had offered 'whatever I can do' and I took her up on it.  She put a meat tray together and gathered sides and beverages to feed the crowd.  Thank you for the true friends we are given in our lives!   I felt it was my responsibility as a mother, to do this for my daughter. To me, it was all about her and what I could do for her.  It wasn't time for me to grieve yet .... I couldn't be tired yet.   

While all of our relatives mingled and ate, I remember sitting on the stairs leading up to my bedroom thinking, 'I wish all of these people would just leave.  I am so tired.  I just want to be alone.'   And that was just the beginning of the exhaustion.

I was tired for a long time.  Even after three years, I know that some of the days I'm tired now are also my remembrance days - those days when it all comes back and you consciously recall every detail. 

Dealing with our grief is hard work.  We hear and read that over and over again.  It's true.  And just like any other type of work well done, it takes time.  Give yourself time - especially if you've lost a grandchild.  It's double duty to mourn this precious child and to grieve for your own child, who is in immeasurable pain.