Saturday, October 17, 2015

Are You Really Thinking Of Me All the Time?

Are you really thinking of me all the time?
Or praying for me all the time?
Or thinking of my dead sons all the time?
Or sending me love all the time?

Will you really miss my sons forever?
Think of them forever?
Keep them alive in your heart forever?

I mean, really? Are you?
DO you?
Because you tell me you are a lot.

When I post something on social media about one of them, I get lots of comments that say you are. Say you will. Say you do.

I see the same comments on the threads of other friends who have lost children..."Always thinking of you.  Always praying for you. Always remembering them. Always missing them with you."

I'm not trying to be argumentative, but the reality is, I don't always do all those things.
And I don't imagine (or expect) you to either.

Hard as it is to sometimes admit, my dead sons, and their not being with me on this earth, are not always on my mind.

It's impossible for them to be so.  Psychologically speaking, our brains simply could not do so and process the rest of day-to-day life as they have to.

And let's be honest--much as I adore my sweet little Luke, he is not always on my mind.  I am not always thinking of him, always praying for him.  I will not always remember everything he does, and that's okay.  That's normal.
I don't expect you to always think of Matthew or Trey. I don't expect you to have us in your daily prayers or to light a candle or whatever each day because you are thinking about me and my grieving heart.  I, their own mother, do not do that.

I know those are well-intended and supportive, kind thoughts and words that are posted in response to something I may post about them, or speak to you about, and I appreciate your kindness and effort in letting me know that their presence in my life didn't die just because they did.

But what I do expect is the understanding that when I am remembering...thinking of them...missing them and posting or speaking of them because of something triggering me and reminding me of their absence--I expect you to understand that too is normal.

It's not me stuck in grief.
It's not me not getting over their deaths.
It's not me living in the past and not appreciating the present.

It's me, being normal.  If you expect me to believe you are always thinking of my sons and missing them also, than it should stand to reason that I, their mother, may do so as well, right?
Unless you don't mean you are always thinking of me.

I'm not trying to call anyone out.
I'm not trying to diminish the precious value in those comments you leave.
I'm not trying to be unappreciative of the support from people who often just don't know what to say.
I get that. And, am very thankful, as I am sure that other mothers who receive those comments and platitudes are.

But do me a favor, will you? If you are one of those who may see something I post or write or hear something I say and you (innocently, and probably concerned for me, I am sure) think, "Oh, poor Lori.  I sure hope that one day, she won't hurt as much/moves on/gets past/gets over it," please just know that my remembrances and feelings are normal and understandable; expected and healthy.

I repeat that. Healthy. It is with a healthy mind and heart that I remember and miss my sons.



Because if anyone is really and truly always thinking about, missing, praying for and remembering a child/children who are no longer living?

I'm putting "One Who Picked Out the Coffin and Walked Away From the Grave" at the top of the list.

6 comments:

  1. I always love you and them, and that's *my* normal.

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  2. xoxoxoxxoxoxo Sweet friend, I know. You are a gift. <3

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  3. As someone who is regularly silenced for her losses, I find myself envious that your grief is even acknowledged. That people are supporting you and offering up love and prayers for those moments when another way or trigger hits. Because so often people assume that grief has a timeline. That we need to get over these losses. And that some losses are more painful than others.

    So this is a hard post for me. Because as I'm remembering that children I never got to meet, grieving quietly because I know you will be silenced, you're scolding those who are supporting you as you remember your sons.

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    1. Cristy, first, let me tell me how sorry I am for your losses. I truly, truly am.

      You are correct in that I've been very lucky to be 'supported' in my grief, when I bring it up. To a degree--that is, at least to my face and in comments on social media.

      But that was sort of my point...that it's typically *only* when *I* bring it up...when I make mention or tear up, and yes, I very much agree with you that even the surface support (and, much of it is genuine) is better than being silenced (though I get my fair share of that too...most often in the most painful passive-aggressive way.)

      So that's what I really was trying to get across--if people are willing to throw out there that they are always thinking of me and my dead children, they should not bristle and think behind my back that I am stuck simply because *I* do too. Of course I do! You are right--there is no grief timeline and our losses hurt, regardless of circumstances or gestation.

      I was truly not trying to scold anyone, and I really am sad that it may have come across that way. Just not sure how to convey what I was thinking, I guess, but the gist was that often the very same people who are 'supporting' me are the ones thinking it's time to go to counseling or what have you and that makes me so weary.

      Thanks for your honest comment. I really appreciate it, and am very sad that you do not feel more supported in your losses. <3 <3 <3

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  4. you are so good with words! ;) check your email... got a story to tell you... you were the subject of God's remembering yesterday and he sent a customer to me at the retail store I work at to tell me about it! Seriously, I am sending the long winded version to your email. xoxox

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    1. Belle, which email? johnandlorimd@yahoo.com or johnandlori@md.metrocast.net ? Switching computers. A.Mess.

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