Wounds

 

"It has been said, 'time heals all wounds'.  I do not agree.  The wounds remain.  In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens.  But it is never gone."

-Rose Kennedy

 



I am a visual learner.  I am a visual thinker.  Sometimes I think this is what makes me a good teacher.  I can take something abstract or inconceivable and turn it into a picture to help people understand it better.

So when my children and I first began our journey through grief, I tried to put it into a picture for them.  I felt like they didn't understand the road ahead.  I thought they believed the terrible heaviness of the initial tragedy was how they would feel forever, and I wanted to give them hope. 

I told them our grief was like a big wound.  That is was similar to a cut or scrape like you get from a bad bike accident.  It hurts.  It hurts terribly.  You can't put your covers on it at night because it is so painful.  Sometimes it wakes you up at night and you can't sleep.  Over time, as healing starts, a scab forms and you start to carry on normally, or as best you can with a big scab.  And you think it's getting all better and then the corner of the scab tears off, and it bleeds again, and it hurts again.  In my mind, it was just like our hearts.  They were torn open and bleeding.  They were hurting with indescribable pain.  But, they would heal.  The hurt would lessen, and then we would have a setback; we would see something or do something or remember something and the scab would rip off.  I wanted them to understand this was an experience that would come and go and you never would know when it was going to happen.   The good news, I told them, is that each time the wound heals the scab is a little smaller than the time before.  And this is what keeps happening over and over; scab, bleed, smaller scab, repeat.  Eventually all that is left is that little pink spot with a teensy scab and in time, the scab would be gone, and in it's place a scar.  I explained that while we wouldn't always hurt as deeply as we did at the start, losing someone you love leaves a scar on your heart and you are truly never quite the same again. 

In December, I felt like we were doing so well.  The new normal was starting to seem like normal.  Their smiles seemed brighter, as if there was real joy behind them.  Both teachers reported happy kids at school.  I felt like we were all moving forward.   Going into what I expected to be hard holiday we were in a good place.  Maybe the best place possible, all things considered.  And then......

And then my father was having terrible back pain, and medical tests found a "mass".  And then we were worried.  And then he was in the hospital, all through Christmas.  And then we learned it was inoperable cancer.  And then......he died too. I got to say goodbye, but it all happened so rapidly it was hard to take in (still is).   In 9 months, the two most influential and important men in our lives.....gone.  And the wound, it tore open again, maybe even worse than before, because in 9 months, this is just a lot.  Somewhere in me I know it will heal again.  The side of me that is practical and logical knows that I won't feel like this forever. I've done this before.....I can do this again.  But the tender side of me, the tired side of me, the side of me that longs for the old normal....those parts of me doubt.  They wonder how we can push through this too.

Then someone sends a card, or an email, or they see me in the store and give me a hug.  Someone says, "I am praying for you".  Someone else offers to take my kids for an afternoon, or an evening.  Each kind gesture, each loving remark, each love filled hug.....it breathes life back into me.  It restores me.  It helps heal my wound.  And I know I will make it and so will my kids and my mom, my sister, and her family.  We will make it.  There is much to live for, and our wounds, they will heal.