It turns out that songs can make you feel things. “Well, I’ve been ‘fraid of changin’ ’cause I built my life around you” strikes me every time I hear it. These words from the song “Landslide” were like an anthem for my grief. I had built my life around my mom, then my husband and his family…But I easily forgot myself. The sadness I had felt for years, I denied within myself.
It was devastating when I lost my mom. My brain thought for years, “If I pretend the grief isn’t there, that means it doesn’t exist, right?” I didn’t allow myself to feel it because that would mean that I had to accept my sadness with every part of me. I understand that now. My grief was demanding to be seen in small moments, like after listening to a meaningful song. In those moments of tender listening, I finally faced it little by little. Ignoring my immense pain that came with grief only gave my sadness more permission to grow. I have only recently given myself honest compassion and recognition for the troubles I have been through. What kept me frozen for so many years has finally given way.
The problem was that I saw my story as a dark secret. Now I realize I need to share it–to let it out–to give it a little less power. Grief hurts. I hope that you–hi reader–can find the strength within yourself to push past these feelings of discomfort and accept your grief. It was a meaningful time, and the things I learned through it revealed some aspects of myself–not a definition, just another color to add to the painting of my life. 🎨
Let the Grief Happen
The grief needs to happen. It is there because I love my Mom…because she was someone to miss. That’s a blessing. It’s ok that the tears still come, too.
The other day at work, I thought about her, and it brought tears to my eyes. Thank God I was in a cubicle. No one noticed. I was grateful for that, but I no longer view my deeply emotional moment as shameful–neither should you. I want to say that it was the anniversary of my mother’s death or something like that. But grief doesn’t work that way: some days it’s hard and some days it isn’t.
I heard one of her favorite songs today. It was “It’s My Life.” Bon Jovi’s version. It became a favorite of hers when she learned that she had a brain tumor, and I now recognize just how much this song must have meant to her. She wanted to fight. She made the most of the world while she was in it. I guess a part of me felt sad when I heard it because, as a child, I didn’t understand just how much she must have suffered on her own. It bugs me to this day. She fought so hard. I wanted to, too.
But my sadness from the grief was mainly just a void. A void that misses her so very much. I realize it’s okay to feel that. Mainly, I’m so happy she was in my life. Her influence still lives here. I think I really like Mom’s anthem. “It’s my life. It’s now or never. I’m not going to live forever.” And it’s time I “build my life around” some new things.
Some Topics for Discussion
Do you have songs that remind you of a loved one or a time in your life that’s lost? I’d love to hear all about it! Leave a comment below ⬇️
A Lil’ Disclaimer about comments:
This blog is meant to be a springboard for discussions on some tough topics. It’s so easy to feel alone, but you’re not!
That hurt you feel? Someone knows it, too.
It doesn’t mean your hurt is less important. It means that you’ve got someone out there that is bound to understand. At least a little.
Things can get tricky. Not all people are kind. But most are just trying to survive.
It’s important to honor the nuances in what someone else is going through, too. Your experience is your own.
It’s complicated, yes.
I’m happy to encourage others to share their stories. Like on any other platform, vulnerability comes with risks. Don’t share unless you feel comfortable. You can count on me in the meantime to put it all out there. 😅
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