Grief Isn’t Something We Plow Through
One of my brothers – Eric – committed suicide in 1988. It’s been a long time. I forgot how bereaved I was but my long-time therapist hasn’t. She reminded me recently that I was beside myself.
The way I picture my grief over Eric’s death now is it’s like a room in my head. It’s a room that that I go to now and then. When I open the door to that room it looks just like it did the day Eric died. Nothing has changed. The huge NOOOOOO! is still there.
I thought about Eric every hour of every day for about a year. Then I didn’t. I remembered him as he was but not as often though that room was still there. And it still is, though I don’t open that door as often or go into that room as frequently I did years ago. But, it’s still there. In my head.
We don’t “get over” losing someone. This is what we do:
Entry filed under: Musings.