wrote this description of what grief feels like
one month after my father passed away.
ANSWER TO THE TIRING QUESTION,
"HOW ARE YOU, DEBBIE?"
feel like I have been pushed out of a moving airplane without a
parachute. The agony and terror of falling 12,000 feet through the sky
is nothing compared to the crushing impact of hitting the ground.
Surprised Iíve survived, here I lay Ė every bone in my body
shattered, every organ smashed, my skin now just quivering ribbons of
bleeding flesh. The first response is shock and numbness Ė the
bodyís own measure of self-preservation. When the feeling begins to
return, the pain is so intense, so suffocating, that I cannot move. Even
if I could move, if I could muster up enough strength to crawl
away, to where would I crawl? Iíve landed in a vast wilderness in an
unknown country. I canít even find North, let alone a hospital.
how I am today and every day since this ordeal began. Each hour is
different, bringing with it an array of emotions ranging from
lonesomeness to indignation which is added to the pain described above,
like some sick brew of misery. There are brief moments of happiness, if
I can call it that, but they are like a mist quickly disappearing in the
sun. My mind is in a perpetual tornado, my spirit pulverized.
only relief comes when asleep (unless I have a painful dream) and when
groping for thoughts of the coming paradise. Being wrapped in the arms
of someone I love brings temporary relief, but how long can I do that?
The yearning to be in my daddyís arms has swallowed me whole.
that answer your question?
© Copyright January 8, 2000 to present, by Deborah McGeorge, St. Augustine, Florida