There are five stages of grief.

In the past I worked for hospice and I often found myself teaching classes about grief.  I know this all too well.

Stage 1-Denial (No this isn’t happening to me. No. No.  No.  This didn’t just happen)

Stage 2-Anger (I can’t believe this is freaking happening to me.  Why did this happen to me?)

Stage 3-Bargaining (I would give a million dollars if this wasn’t happening to me. Literally…give $1 million if I could change this)

Stage 4-Depression (Well it’s happening.  It did happen…and it’s devastatingly sad)

Stage 5-Acceptance (Yes it’s happened…no I can’t control it…yes I can choose to live each day with love and grace)

Each person grieves in their own way. For me, after touring about in denial (you know the place…just south of reality but west of sorrow), I usually become a bit stuck in the anger stage. This stage allows me to channel my frustration and work through my anger, instead of being outwardly destructive.

Looking back at the recent loss of my mother, I now realize that I have been grieving for a long time.  I have wavered between each stage, preparing myself for her loss.  (For those of you Sociology majors, this would be referred to as anticipatory grief).  I knew it was coming.  I felt somewhat prepared for it.  I had already lost a piece of her because of her intermittent memory issues.  But just yesterday….

I called her.  Yes.  I forgot she was gone and picked up the phone and called her.  Just to see how she was feeling.  See if she needed anything.  This isn’t the first time I have done this.  It’s been several times.  I guess I haven’t fully realized that she’s gone.

I know she is gone, but I haven’t let her go.  I don’t know if I ever will.

“Only miss the sun when it starts to snow…”

(**Special thanks, Anna B.  I’ve had this post in mind and reading your post helped me get it out there…hugs to you.)

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