so tired

 

    I am so tired. So tired of feeling sad, of feeling alone, of feeling like a burden, of not knowing who to turn to, who would understand. I hate crying. And I know this sadness will never go away. Grief never really disappears once its fingerprints have made an imprint on us humans. I know it will resurface, out of the blue, true. But undoubtably, at my college graduation, when I know my mom isn’t out there in the crowd. When I get my PhD, she won’t be there. If I have relationship questions, job questions, life questions, God questions, she won’t be there. If I get married, or have kids or adopt, she won’t be there. She won’t. She was supposed to live for at least another 25 years. Parents aren’t supposed to die when they’re 50. 

            I’m not ready for the awkwardness that surely will arise when people ask about my mom and I invariably will have to respond with a euphemism for death, so as to not make anyone uncomfortable or break any glaringly obvious social norms. We don’t like to talk about death in the good ole US of A if you haven’t noticed. Apart from the real and painful and heartbreakingly large hole her death will leave, there will also be this burden of explanation I will have to drag, everywhere I go. I’m not ready for the pity, for the I’m sorry’s and at least she’s in a better place. If someone tells me that this was all part of God’s plan, I truly might lose it. 

            I hate feeling sorry for myself. Why does grieving feel selfish to me? Why do I have such a hard time making it about me? 132 people just died in a plane accident in southern China for crying out loud. Putin is mercilessly orchestrating the death of civilian after civilian in Ukraine, we still have the death penalty, police brutality and an infatuation with guns that kills hundreds of innocents a year. How can I be sad about my own problems when all that is happening out there? How do I grieve well?