A word about grieving
I don’t intend this to become a grieving blog (though believe me I have tons to say about it!). But I also want to be honest about what’s going on in our lives – and working through our loss has been a big part of the last 4+ months.
I’ll start by saying that the grieving process is different than I expected: It’s far more variable and unpredictable than I ever could have imagined. One day I feel “good” – relatively speaking – while the next I feel knocked down and in disbelief. I also sometimes struggle over looking normal, on the outside, but feeling fundamentally changed on the inside.
Since day one, I’ve been super open about my feelings and taken strength from talking with others about what I’m experiencing. The girls, though, are a bit different. During the very early, awful days they were both quiet and inward (probably still in shock), and they now say they don’t remember much from those days or the funeral. Zoe has gotten a bit more open: She benefited by talking with her amazing school counselor during the school year, and she’ll share with us when she’s feeling sad. She also has been a huge comfort to me – she’s often the first one to come over and comfort me if she sees I’m having a tough moment.
Avery, meanwhile, remains pretty inward; she doesn’t often want to talk about her sadness. But she’s said some insightful comments since the accident. Not long after, observing that I cry a lot, she said, “You know, just because a person doesn’t cry doesn’t mean they’re not grieving.” Last weekend, when I mentioned that I occasionally say things to my parents out loud, she told me that she sometimes talks to Grandma in the shower. And one day I was discussing the funeral in the car and this exchange happened:
Me (to Q): “I wish Mom had known all her Ulvestad cousins came.”
A, from the backseat: “She knows. She’s watching down on us.”
M: “You think so, Avery?”
A: “Yes, I know so. They’re both watching over us.”
-M