Birdwings

I understand how you're feeling. There is a saying/a line from a poem that I often share with my patients because of the truth in it. The line is "After the first death, there is no other." What it means is that every death after the first death of a person who means something deeply to you, every death after that brings up and brings back the grief and the sorrow and longing and loss of that first important death.

I think that continues for a very long time. There does seem to come a time after much grieving when the pain starts to be less and more bittersweet. But it takes a long time and a lot of tears and a lot of talking about the loss of the person who meant so much to you.

I once, on the anniversary of my very beloved father, hell actually 30 years after he died, I asked a very good friend to spend the day with me and spent almost the whole day telling her about my father. It was a monologue/dialogue that was frequently interrupted because we both had our four/five year old sons with us, and they needed a fair amount of attention. Although we had taken them to a very amusing and educational indoor playground at a museum.

But I was able to talk and talk and talk about my memories of my father who died a couple of days before my 10th birthday. I cried a lot. I healed a lot. And my friend was lovely and caring and understanding and encouraging. And made it very clear that she was happy to be there for me. That memory of her is one I'll always treasure. And now she's gone too. Someday, I need to talk and talk and talk about her.

If you'd like to talk and talk and talk about any of these people whose losses matter to you, I'd be happy to listen. Or about anyone else. If you'd ever like to talk or text, I'd be happy to give you my number. Just a thought. My sympathies. I hope the acute pain simmers down soon.