things i wish people told me before my mum died
- it doesn’t get better, you just learn to focus on the parts that aren’t as shit - two years later ‘i miss my mum’ isn’t an excuse to skip class or work - it should be - grief doesn’t come in five neat stages, it comes in a tangle of knots going back and forth between the five - life goes on even in the couple of days between dying and the funeral service. children need to be fed, you need to be fed. you’ll be hungry, you’ll be bored, you’ll talk about nonsense, you’ll even laugh, don’t feel guilty. - you will feel guilty - nothing will prepare you for what it’s like to see a dead body - if you’re not comfortable seeing her, that’s okay. - if you want to spend every second you can looking at her, that’s okay too. - only you can make the right choices for yourself on how to deal with this - no one, not one person you will talk to, will ever understand how you feel - not even your siblings - especially not your siblings - you forget sometimes - and then you’ll be in a supermarket thinking you need to ask her what else she puts in that recipe - and then you remember and you need to take a minute, but you’re in the middle of an isle and you’re in the way. people don’t care your mother is dead - there is never a right moment to tell new people in your life - all the wise words you were told mean nothing - and still one day you’ll be sitting in a cafe with your friend and you’ll be telling your friend those empty words - the most powerful thing people will say is ‘i don’t know what to say’ - you will be lonely - you will be angry - you will be sad - all of this is okay - there is no right or wrong pace for grief. grief doesn’t have a timeline.
