The First Year of Grief

"Grief is like the tides of the ocean, it comes in waves, ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, sometimes overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim."

This quote is finally starting to make sense. My first year of grieving was full of wine and whining. Sure I had every right in the world to whine about the whole thing, but there is a time and place. In that first year, it's hard to get that right. The smallest thing could set off a wave of emotion—a smell, a dream, a article of clothes, a post, even a cloud could send me into a dark lonely place full of worry and tears. Getting through it sometimes was as hard as the 18 months I spent taking care of Mom and Daddy.

In that year almost every night, I had nightmares about Mom dying and coming back to life only to die again. I would dream of Daddy and him telling me it's just a dream and i'ts okay. No matter good or bad, if they were in my dream, I was inevitably going to wake up sobbing uncontrollably. Sometimes, I still do.

Man, I was angry at everything too. The waters would be calm and then suddenly the wave would hit me. It's not fair, I am too young to be an orphan. Why did I have to have this? It shouldn't have been given to me. I exposed my children to death and care giving and they will regret I did. I was so angry. Angry at the relationship I wish I could have had with my mom and angry my daddy, my best friend, was gone and I was robbed of the relationship I depended on.

There really isn't a right or wrong way to get through that first year as long as you aren't self destructing. The closest I got was killing too much wine. I also handled my anger wrong some days; keeping it together was torture. There were times I couldn't stop crying and feeling sorry for myself. It's okay, that's normal. Normal... it's a word when you are locked in sadness that is as foreign as happiness in the time. Lonely is the word that sums up all the days that follow. I was surrounded by those that loved me and I had never felt more alone in my life.

Towards the end of the year I had mustard up the strength to start scattering Mom and Daddy's ashes. I drove to Charleston, met up with my sister, and it was the happiest moment I experienced that entire year. Weird, right? I thought it was. It was the first step on the long road of coping and letting go. I was dreading it, even having panic attacks the whole way there. The first bag of ashes we released on Pauly's Island was the most hilarious debacle. Mom wouldn't have loved it as much as daddy would have and I think he had his hand in it. Laughter through tears.

We were paranoid to touch the ashes so we carefully scooped them into bags... sandwich bags. We figured we would chuck them in the ocean or open and scatter if no one was around. Well, my sister hates the ocean. I did good to get her feet in the water. So I waded out while she was on the look out and threw the bag. It went straight down in front of me, because I throw like a girl. Then it washed back up. People must have thought we were nuts, we were laughing so hard. I waded out deeper in the water and released the bag.

On the way back to Georgetown, we tried to throw a bag into the PeeDee River (Daddy's spot because he was a nut). We couldn't pull over so I figured if we timed it just right, I could throw it over as we moved. The guy riding behind us (on our bumper) got more than he bargained for that day. The bag left my hand and hit a light pole on the bridge at 30 mph. I'm sure it's no shock it busted. We again were laughing so hard we had to pull over.

We hit several other spots and then I came home with plans to spill the rest in Savannah and St. Simons. The Savannah scatter was a new experience as I spilled mom on me, and the craziest thing happened as we left her memory in the river. As we were finishing up, a cup with the words CoCo floated by. I couldn't believe what I saw. Coco is what my kid's called mom. She was letting us know she was there. I for the first time in a year felt her as if she was standing with her hand around my side.

My amazing Aunt Anne planned a little family ceremony when we scattered Daddy on the beach across from their condo. He loved her and his cousins there so much. They were his favorite people growing up. I knew he was there as we all said our goodbyes. It was bittersweet, but I didn't feel alone. We all were heartbroken he was gone. My daddy broke the mold. Over the next few months, I hit a couple of other places they loved and still have some left. I am not sure if my brother doesn't want them that I will scatter the rest.

Part of grief is letting go and being ok with it. It's scary to think about. I wondered if, I let go, will I forget them? I don't want to let go. I want to hold on as hard as I can, but it only led to misery and longing for the impossible. I let go three years after they passed. It was a warm evening in St. John. I was sitting on the porch of our condo watching the sun set and I could hear daddy in my heart. "It's time, Keleigh. If you let go, I still am not going to leave you." I could hear my mom, "It's time Keleigh. I'll always love you. We will always be right here." So I took a deep breath, I let out what was the most bittersweet release, I let go. This was real, they are gone in body, but I knew I would be with them more now than ever.

Don't get me wrong. I would give my left toe for a hug from my daddy or to hear my mom laugh at me because I am getting my karma with my teen daughter. Every now and then, I get a dream, with a hug and conversation and it's as real to me as the latter. June 20 will be year 4. I am still grieving but I am learning how to live without them. It has made the question come to mind, however, do we really live without them?

Their advice stays in my heart. The thought of my past brings smiles. Their love for me and mine for them never died at all. I guess we only stop living for a little while after they are gone. There is no right way to grieve. There is no time limit on sadness and the waves of emotion that comes in this journey. Normal has a new meaning and it takes time to figure it out.

Many people don't want to talk about their mistakes or imperfections, I on the other hand will lay them all out before you if just one part could help guide you. When it comes to this topic, you have full transparency here. Just know that if you are desperately grieving for the love one you lost, you are not alone. I am with you and I have you on my heart as a hiker on the same hilly path back to light. One day, it will get easier, one day the load will feel more light, one day you will let go and know it's ok. The love is still there. It never left.