I've begun to feel guilty. I guess this is normal - I have pamphlets that say so - but it feels weird to confirm them. It's because I haven't cried in three days. Because I'm excited about this weekend's show. Because, when I speak to my dad, his voice is different. He still sounds like my dad, but lower, slower. He sounds so sad. Because most often my grief is just a morose annoyance. Because my favorite outfit is my robe. Because my mother's blog is a memorial to my brother. Because mine is about yoga thongs. Because all I want is to watch Big Love marathons. Because I haven't gone grocery shopping. Because I don't know what I'll do come spring. Because I can even worry about spring when my brother just died. Because it's been eight weeks and I'm still not freelancing. Because I haven't called Cousin Bonnie, and I told her I would. Because the first years in my program are so happy to be here, and I'm happy to have health insurance. Because I've been biting my nails. Because my floor needs mopping. Because my phone will ring and life will seem thrilling and whole minutes will pass before I remember what it is, exactly, we're dealing with here.
I'm grieving, you're a voyeur. We're a match made in hell.
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4 comments:
I remember when my father (no comparison to the loss of a brother) died, I felt incredible relief that he was no longer suffering and tremendous guilt for thinking so. There were many other guilty moments that seemed nonsensical... everything from enjoying the opportunity to share with anyone who would listen about how fantastic he was as an educator - to privately wishing I could tell anyone who would listen about some of my unresolved issues with him.
I felt guilty for all the busyness of my life, all the things I moved on to do in my day to day, and all the tears I stopped shedding; when it seemed to be so soon after his memorial service. Later, the grief transformed from a constant companion to an acquaintance that revisits from time to time over the years.
But even so, when I first found myself moving away from death and toward life; I realized that it was not only a natural part of the process of grief, but also that the grieving process had no prescribed timeline for me as an individual. It was my own private rhythm - no one else's.
Your grief is your own and for you to determine for yourself when and how it will wash through your life. No regrets. No guilt.
Hugs, sweetie.
I'd really be concerned about anyone who purposefully, intentionally chose NOT to watch a 'Big Love' marathon!
That you are doing some things considered 'normal' in spite of The Big Truth that is always there, is about the best indicator possible that you and your brother had a good and loving relationship. Of course it wasn't as good as you both would have liked it to have been- no relationship is in the retrospect of death. But messy relations, full of difficult loose ends, are evidenced by those who can only focus on the one who has died. They build crazy memorials, spend months, years crying over the grave, and refuse to smile or laugh for fear of betraying the one in death who they probably betrayed over and over again in life.
To tell you that you are displaying thoughts about guilt here that are absolutely normal for a healthy person is, I know, no great comfort. But they are normal (albeit, written of in a way above average manner!)! Your healthy griefing at this point, confused as it may seem to you, is one of the best testimonies there is to a really good brother-sister partnership (which, by the way, has NOT ended..)
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