Grief and gratitude can and do exist together. Sometimes when people ask, “How are you?” and I give an honest answer like, “Thank you for asking, I’m having a really hard day,” the response is that I should be grateful for all of the good things in my life. I want you to know that being sad and being grateful can exist alongside each other. I am not sad because I have nothing to be grateful for. I am sad because my mom is gone. I am extremely grateful for everyone and everything in my life. And I will continue to grieve the loss of my mom forever.
Grieving feels SO uncomfortable. Knowing that I’ll never see or talk to my mom again is extremely uncomfortable, like something's not right. All. The. Time. I want you to know that it feels like a problem that you can’t ever solve, and it even makes you feel sick to your stomach. I’ve learned sometimes you just need to sit with the uncomfortableness of it and let it pass. Cry, rest, journal, do yoga, get outside. Do what you need to do to get through it.
Grief can start well before your loved one dies. I remember when my therapist told me about anticipatory grief. I had never heard of the term before, but as soon as I read about it, I realized that I started grieving the loss of my mom the day she was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukaemia. Throughout her treatment, I tried to stay optimistic, but I was grieving at the same time. I want you to know that when friends told me to stay strong, I really tried on the outside, but on the inside, I was crumbling apart. Unfortunately, anticipatory grief does not prepare you for the death of your loved one. Not even close.
Grief is lonely. I’ve had so many friends and family reach out to me since my mom died. I want you to know that this helps a lot, and that grieving is still extremely lonely. It’s lonely because you realize that no one truly knows exactly what YOUR grief feels like. The thought of going through something so painful that no one else understands is overwhelming.
Life suddenly feels confusing when someone important to you dies. The death of my mom leaves me feeling as though I am standing on unsteady ground, unsure of where to go and what to do. I want you to know that I cannot go back to the life or person I was before she died because they no longer exist. Now I need to figure out how to move forward in this new life.
About Andrea Driedger
Andrea’s mom, Carol, died in May 2020, only 11 months after being diagnosed with acute myeloid leukaemia. She was the most creative person she knew. Andrea lives in Toronto with her husband, two children, two cats and her dog, named ‘Spike,’ after her mom’s childhood nickname.