Yeah. Do you remember as a kid, at your local amusement park, doing the ride where you all got into a little car, which rode on a track into a dark tunnel, and the track and you in the car on it rode around in the stuffy blackness smelling a little of oil, around curves and maybe up and down little hills and all of a sudden something SCARY JUMPED OUT AT YOU?? And then you in the little car would roll past that scary thing, and then just when your heart had slowed down a bit, OUT JUMPED SOMETHING ELSE SCARY?? And it went on like that, for a while, and you never knew when something scary would suddenly jump at you.
That’s what it’s like, as I mark three months since the death of my daughter Alyson. I just never know when something will leap out at me, dragging me into grief and a flood of tears. It’s exhausting. I found out from one of my grief books though that this is quite “normal”. The book calls it being ambushed, just about the same thing as the funhouse tunnel scary stuff. One of the authors describes how she had finally been telling people she was doing better, when she went into the supermarket and saw her person’s favorite Campbell soup on the shelf, and dissolved into a storm of weeping.
That kind of thing. Exhausting, but I am managing.
Kristen Aldrich 08:54pm, 11/01/2014
I know exactly what you are talking about. I don’t know what it is like to loose a daughter, but I am going through just what you describe. It is exhausting. The smallest little thing can trigger a flood of emotions. I’m here for you, Hilary. xo