Saturday, May 05, 2012

i want to say something, but

I can't type the words. That makes it hard to say what I want to get off my chest.

I would like to be able to write about knitting, spinning, gardening, the doings of small children and the other day-to-day niceties that I am habituated to writing about in this blog. I can't seem to write about those things - as much as they bring me comfort in tough times - because I am weighed down by grief.  I really don't want to write about grief.

So instead, I have been saying nothing.

Many weeks of nothing.

Losing my Dad to cancer was by far the greatest loss that I have ever experienced. And even as I say that, I know it was the first of many, because a life that is full of love will inevitably have many painful losses. That knowledge is like a lead weight around my neck.

It's been 6 weeks and just typing these words is pretty crushing. So, I think that this is all that I will say about it.

Because I want to get back to writing about fiber and color and fresh peas from the garden, posting designs and sharing random enthusiasms. I want those things to seem like they matter again.

I don't want to fool myself that writing about knitting again is getting back to normal. There won't be a back to normal. This is normal now.

A friend shared this graphic with me. It represents grief as experienced over time.

My little container is a bit overwhelmed right now. There is only a tiny, tiny bit of room for happiness, or fun, or for anything much really. I hope that this graphic is right, that I will continue to grow enough - even with this big dark hole inside me - that there will be lots of room again for the small joys.


  1. I wish I could say something that would make you feel better. I can only say I hope your container grows. I know you won't miss your dad less, but all your memories of him stay near and dear to your heart. So take the time that you need...

  2. Thank you for sharing this. You're not alone. It's been nearly 2 years for me and life has expanded, but that dark space still overwhelms at times. It gets more bearable life bringing joy as time goes on. Everyone grieves in her own way. Don't let anyone tell you that you "should" feel one way or another. Sending thoughts of light and love your way.

  3. Losing a parent is like losing your life's anchor, so it is natural to feel like you are adrift. As difficult as it is, allow yourself to ride the waves of grief. Before long, you will once more arrive on solid ground.

  4. My mom died a year ago, my dad 9 years ago. It takes a long time to heal from the loss of a parent. I talk to my parents in my head everyday. I tell my kids funny stories about my parents. I do things that I enjoyed doing with them and know that they are with me on the journey just not physically. Give yourself time. It's not that knitting etc is less important but that grief is blocking your enjoyment.
    Remember to get plenty of hugs from friends and family. Have them tell funny stories about your dad. Fix his favorite meal one nite and look at pictures. Concentrate on his life not his death and your grief will ease. Sending you hugs

  5. Grief is overwhelming and while time does help, it does it in strange ways. I can empathise having been there far too many times. Take the time you need, there will be times where writing about yarn and knitting and gardening will make sense again, but not now. Sending you a virtual hug

  6. I lost my Dad some time ago, but I won't claim to know how you feel. We are all different. I don't really know you, but I still wish I could give you a hug.

    If it helps at all, I thought of you today. I went to the Maryland Sheep & Wool Festival with my niece. She was wearing the socks that I made her from your pattern.

  7. I understand how you feel in a different way. I have a beautiful child..she is now twenty one...Out there in the world...Using drugs...Doing god knows what. I have almost lost her a few times...The fear and the pain I experience almost daily is so unbearable I dont know how I get up and get dressed somedays...I am sorry for your loss I can only imagine. I get so caught up in my agony of my life I take my poor dad for granted...Life is not fair sometimes and not what you expect it will be.. Hugs.

  8. My children were born after my dad died, but he is still very much a part of our lives. His paintings, his experiences, his stories - they remain a part of our lives. I'm so sorry for your loss.

  9. My mom passed away 3 years ago, when I was 9 months pregnant. I lost her to cancer, and I know exactly what you are going .... It takes time, a lot of time. And it is hard. Dont push yourself to recover fast. Sorry about your loss.
    Patricia Fontes

  10. I am so sorry to hear about your loss.

  11. I'm so sorry. I've lost my parents and two wonderful step-parents and my dear grandparents. I miss them all. Your friend is a wise person. Take care of yourself.

  12. makes me cry
    reading this...
    i have feared
    going through
    this type of loss
    for a long time
    as my parents get older...
    but cancer
    is far far worse.
    that illustration
    was illuminating-
    i never thought about
    it that way before.
    i think about
    every day.
    i hope ever day
    is a little easier.

  13. Thank you everyone for all the love and virtual hugs. I want to give you all a hug right back.

  14. So sorry for your loss. I think your friend's graphic has it right - it never really goes away, we just seem to learn how to live around it. Wishing the memories of all the good times will sustain you.

  15. I am so sorry to hear about the loss of your dad. Yes, I think that graphic is exactly right. I hope you can be gentle with yourself - grief is such incredibly hard work.

  16. I'm so sorry for your loss... I just lost my mom in november while I was8 1/2 months pregnant then lost my grandmother 3 weeks ago. I'm still trying to figure out this new reality but the overused inadequate words "things will get easier" become a little more believable every day . Things will get easier... Hang in there


  17. I am so so so sorry. I honestly don't even know what else to say except be patient with yourself. No rush needed even though I'm sure you're in a hurry to feel differently. *hugs*

  18. So very sorry for your loss.

  19. I am so sorry. That graphic is really so true, though.

  20. Christmas of 1989 my mother died unexpectedly and exactly one month later my mother-in-law died. I am so sorry about the loss of your dad and the only other thing I can say to you is:
    Time. Like everything else, it takes time.

  21. f.pea, My dad also died of cancer 20 years ago , I was just thinking of him this morning, that diagram is so so right. Keep blogging and grieving, your blog brightens up my life and many others too I'm sure. xx

  22. I am sorry to hear about the loss of your father. I lost my sister to cancer and a good friend, too. Its not easy, I know. In time you will think more on the life of the man rather than his death, I promise. Glad to see you back blogging, too...that helps! :)

  23. I am so sorry to hear about your loss. You seem to be approaching it in a healthy way, so I just want to say good luck and I am sending good thoughts.

  24. I am so sorry to read about the loss of your Dad. I lost my Mom to cancer 11 years ago and while the hurt gets a little easier, it never completely goes away. You will remember him in your heart forever and you will always have your memories. Take the opportunity to memorialize thoughts about him in your blog at special times (Father's Day, his birthday, etc) so that when you get a little older and your memory fades, your thoughts will be memorialized in your blog.

  25. A 'mom' hug to you. I've know loss, and wish you weren't going through these oh-so-unbearable times. Knitting was my 'everyday' through many treatments, then hospice days with my sweet daughter. We will miss them forever...but others share our pain.

  26. Just came to your blog again after a bit and couldn't help it, but this post really resonated with me. Today is my fathers birthday whom also died of cancer (i can't believe it but) 4 years ago. Figured out just now, why I was emotional all day today. That grief never gets smaller but just changes.

    Cancer is so horrible to watch, I wouldn't wish it upon anyone ever! I hope you remember the good times more, and as much as everything should seem important, a life is so much more and honoring it in the simplest of ways means so much in a world so out of touch with suffering & death...

    I hope you find the healing you need.

  27. My heart is with you.

  28. Love your graphic. If you don't mind I'd like to share it with a friend who lost her daughter last year. Grief is an uphill struggle.


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