Grief and Consolation

I have been struggling lately to keep it light at home and on this blog. The past year has seen three of my favorite people struggle with beastly health issues. I have not felt comfortable writing much about these battles here, in part because they are not my stories to tell, in part, it feels too personal, and in part, it is simply too raw. Maybe some day I will be able to write about this dreadful time with more clarity, but not just yet.

I have been thinking an awful lot, though, about how to manage my own grief in a way that is healthy for our family. I have been alternately furious, bewildered, distressed, and dazed. Assessing how much of that to share with our children has not been easy. On the one hand, I firmly believe that children should be protected from the greater ills of the world as long as possible. As a parent, I think part of my job is to let our children believe that this world is one that is generally good, safe, and at times even magical. Children offer us a gift of seeing beauty and wonder in the world around us and I'd rather that they bring me into that world than that I bring them into a world of adult problems and challenges.

I am also deeply aware, though, that allowing our children to live in that world is a result of privilege, the privileges of having a warm house, food on the table, and health. I also think it is important for children to accept sadness and death so that they can learn to thrive even when all is not rosy. Maybe I have gone to too many Irish funerals, but along with sadness there is much joy in the gathering of loved ones to celebrate and mourn the life of someone we love.

As I try to walk that line between being honest with our children and trying to protect them from hurt, I have realized how much their very existence has helped me. They live in the present, not the past or the future, and they help me stay there too. Our family time -- cooking, sharing meals, reading together, playing games, or just being -- has become more important than ever because it is an antidote to the sadness swirling around us now. These little beings bring light to even the darkest days.

This blog too has provided me with much consolation. It encourages me to continue to cook, photograph, and write, activities that I enjoy. Continuing the routine of those activities gives me solace, too. There is comfort in the repetition of the familiar. Finding consolation in the connections that food and family bring is more important to me now than ever. And hearing from all of you, knowing that there are others who enjoy these same pursuits and who enjoy stopping by here, is always gratifying. Thank you for that.

I know that many of you have also watched loved ones experience the unimaginable, and I hope that you have found a way to navigate for your selves and your families. My heart goes out to you all.

 

Comments

[debbie koenig]

Oh Margy, what a beautifully-written post. I'm sorry that you're experiencing grief & loss, but the sentiments you express are just lovely. Your thoughtfulness & caring show in every word. Hang in there.

[Mary]

Margy- struggling with how to balance the wonder of childhood with realities of life is something I too think about often- however, in each realm there is opportunity to create a sense of belonging to something outside oneself -thanks for sharing-thinking of you and your loss.

[Leticia- Tech Savvy Mama]

Sending all my love and please know we're thinking about all of you!

[Sarita]

Margy: I know only too well the feelings you are posting about. Only when we are confronted with a serious illness or death do we realize the importance of health. We certainly don't know this in our youth, unless we have experienced it first hand. And that is a shock! And illness is so hard to deal with. Having had a very serious illness when my children were verrry young, I opted always for the truth with them, age-appropriate truth. And as they have grown, they don't even remember that time period, I do continue to discuss it with them every once in awhile, to remind them that we went through that tough period and came out of it all right. I did that because I was shielded from death when my beloved grandfather died when I was 7. My parents left me with relatives and went to the funeral and I was only told afterwards. I was so angry when I found out and felt so left out! I also did that because I wanted them prepared if the illness led to something worse!

These are very tough and personal issues. Only you can figure out how to deal with it best for you and your family. I hope you find solace and pray for your loved ones.
Sarita

[Beth]

Margy- This is a beautiful post. It's always comforting to know that children are being parented so well.
Beth

[Olivia]

The world can be very magical. You're in our thoughts too.

Olivia

[Sharon Hammond]

Margy, Your post is written so beautiful, yet it is so sad. I want to reach out to you and do what ever I can to help. I'm hear.

Children as you know are a lot more resilient that we give them credit for. In life, we cannot stop the inevitable, but we can teach our children how to cope and live when turbulent times come. Largely our children will watch and learn from how we deal with tough and sometimes dreadful news. You are such a sweet person and you have a lovely family. My daughter adores your family. I'm hurt because you are hurting. I'll remember you in my prayers tonight. Sharon

[Tomo]

Dear, Dear Margy,
What a testimony to your beautiful self. Starting with the photos which capture the feelings and questions you share here, through the beautifully expressed thoughts and quandries, this post is remarkably deep and reveals someone with a big heart and soul. Thank you so much for sharing your burden with us with such wisdom and grace. It helps lighten mine.

While my heart goes out to you, clearly your love and concern for your children bears celebrating as does the love for those you grieve.

Sometimes we simply can't "keep it light" and perhaps we shouldn't. Sometimes I wonder why people aren't sadder when hard things happen. It turns out that they were faking it all along and I figure they don't care. I have also seen folks pretend so long that one day they fall apart and don't know why, become depressed, etc. I believe your honesty is something to celebrate.

I have tremendous admiration for you!

Love, Mom

[Alexis]

Margy,
Thank you for being open in sharing so eloquently your struggles with grief. All sounds so familiar and true to what I have experienced. Sending light and peace your way.

Keep writing!
Alexis

[Nancye]

Margy-
Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us. "A grief shared by many is only half a grief. A joy shared is twice a joy" An old, but wise proverb. Joy and grief are what make us alive. Allowing the children to see you experience both teaches them to be human. Thank you for the reminder that are children experience every day- joy is in the moment. You and you family are in my heart.