[quote]Am I being impatient, am I letting it drag on too long. I really just don't know.[/quote]
There is really no right or wrong answer to this one question, grief is in itself always that ambiguous. Sometimes it hits you full force in the face, sometimes it seeps it's way in like smoke under a door and you never really notice it until you're choking in the fumes.
After the initial shock of losing Jaia had worked it's way through, I found so much comfort in many many things, to the point where I really felt fine. Strangely this had occurred within the first fortnight or so. This isn't to say that I wasn't grieving, but I seem to go my calmest at times of extreme crisis, and usually my most Zen.
Christmas is probably the hardest time for me as a mother, as there will always be one person I'm not shopping for.
I have lost quite a few of my immediate family and a far too many friends over the last 15 years, my Grandad being one of the most recent. I totally understand what you mean about having images of them in hospital - I sat with Grandad as much as I could as he was blind and had Dementia and I couldn't bear the thought of him alone and lonely in a moment of clarity. Every day I used to share a rum and ginger with him (his old navy tradition of 6 bells never left him!) and sometimes one of the other dementia patients would sit down at the piano and I'd sing to Grandad as he lay there, I never knew how much of it he was aware of save for one time when I had made us a tot and I couldn't remember how he used to toast and so I took a chance on his awareness and asked him - to my utter surprise he replied straight away, bold as brass "Slainte!"
They are some of the better memories I hold from his 3 months in St Martin's. When he died I helped the nurses tend to him as I felt it my last duty so we washed him and got him changed ready for the funeral directors. I also helped to get him into his Black Watch tartan kilt and kit for the funeral as I didn't mind and I was the only one in the family mentally able to do it at the time. He had been like a father to me all my life and I couldn't bear the thought of it being all wrong, he'd have hated that.
I remember a lot about that time I spent with my Grandad, but now nearly 3 years later the memories are quite a bit softer around the edges than they used to be - which is actually quite a nice thing to happen - and I just feel glad to have had the opportunity to do all the things I did with him, however sad, they helped tremendously in the long term to give me closure, something I'd never had in this way before.
I remember sitting in the chapel of rest on my own with Grandad doing a part of my daily Buddhist ritual to honour him. As I started chanting all I could think about was Jaia and before long I was sobbing and sobbing and I must have cried for about half an hour, it just brought so much back - I don't think I have ever sobbed like that before or since. It was like the pair of them together had flicked a switch and opened the floodgates. One loss invariably does tend to invoke the feelings and emotions of others gone by, it's unavoidable, but time, hugs, oodles of patience and permission to grieve in whatever manner you need to will make it all a little softer around the edges.
The one thing I'm dreading the unknown outcome of is when we finally get Jaia's headstone sorted. The stonemasons want a hell of a lot of money for it and right now it's just not possible but it's the only option, it's just perfect as it's not a tragic looking little white stone, it's a space for tranquil contemplation and happy memories - there is no other choice.
It'll be 8 years next week since she died and I've finally managed to find out what caused Jaia to catch GBS the way she did, it's almost unheard of so it's taken me this long doing the research single handed. On her birthday we're going to re-landscape the grave as it's looking very sorry for itself and needs an overhaul. I can't imagine how I'm going to feel when I see the little marble tree next to the pond - it's going to feel all so very final, like the last goodbye.
