So last night, me and Mr. D were finishing season 3 of Supernatural so we would be all caught up for the season 4 premiere tonight. **If you don't know what happens at the end of season 3 and don't wanna know yet, STOP READING!**
Anyway, at the end, I'm sitting on the couch silently crying. He looks over at me, and he's like "Why are you crying?" He starts hugging me and keeps asking me that. So, I finally tell him cuz Dean died. Then he's all like you were just watching TV, it's just a TV show, wth? So I'm like, dude, I just spent 3 seasons watching Dean and Sam get closer as brothers, and now I just watched Sam watch his brother get killed, on the 17th AND it's the first day of my period! You better back up! I mean, come on now. Let's think about what we already know about me. I am, for lack of a better word, a crybaby. I cry at the sappy stuff. I cried when Mufasa died, and if I watched it again today, I'd probably STILL cry. I'm an over emotional Pisces. And when I realized my period was going to come on the 17th, I warned him I would be weepy.
I know men and women grieve in different ways. Yesterday was a very weepy day for me. I was crying as I posted that poem, which, by the way, is the poem I wrote for my mother's obituary. I cried when I watched the Mama video. And I cried when I forced myself to take my mother's picture off my computer's desktop background. It's only been 2 months, but damnit, I am doing my best to cope. So what if I cry every now and then? And I was silently crying; it's not like I threw myself on you and started bawling.
I'm not writing this just to vent. I wanna give people a little insight. Learning to deal with the death of a loved one is a difficult process. Everyone handles it differently. Mr. D and my mother weren't that close, but he was in the hospital room with me while I held her hand until she passed. It was hard for him to watch, but it was even harder to watch me. And I know he's having a hard time, and has no idea how to help me cope. So, I very rarely speak on it. But if you really wanna help someone who is grieving, listen. Just listen. Let them talk about whatever they wanna talk about. 20 times a day, I find myself remembering some small detail about my mother that makes me smile, and sharing it with someone really helps. It's not me trying to keep myself depressed; it's my way of keeping her memory alive. If that person needs to cry, offer them a tissue and your shoulder. Sometimes people, women especially, just need to cry.
Blogging helps me cope. I have been going back and forth; one minute I can accept her passing, the next I'm in denial. But with these posts I keep doing on my mother, I think I'm accepting it. It took me a month to tell people who didn't already know that she was gone. And even still, I found it hard to associate her with death, passing, etc. But it's getting a little easier with every word I write about her. And you know what? I haven't cried once while writing this post. I call that progress, don't you?