It doesn’t have one.

Not always, anyways. Grief looks, feels, tastes and sounds different to everyone. As I approach(tomorrow) the seven year anniversary of my mother going to be with Jesus..I have learned these things to be true. Since my mothers passing I have had other friends lose parents, my friends parents lose their child, friends lose their children and so on. I have witnessed a lot of loss and a lot of grief that follows & every situation was different than my own.

      “Grief is in two parts. The first is loss. The second is the remaking of life” – Anne                                                                                                                                                                                Roiphe

I have grieved and grieved and grieved the loss of my precious Momma.  In the last seven years I have had so many people ask me questions along the lines of these:

• “When will you be done grieving?”
• “Have you gone through the stages of grief yet?”
• “Why are you still sad? It’s been ___ years.”
• “You don’t look like you’re grieving.”
• “You sound happy.”

So on and so forth. All of these questions are just as aggravating as the one before it. This brings me to the title of this post… grief doesn’t have a sound. I can sound happy and be grieving. I can sound sad and not be grieving that day about my mom, but about something else. I can sound joyful and still feel so empty without my mother here on earth. Please don’t determine my grief for me. 

The last seven years of my life have been a mix of hell on earth and a renewing of a life I thought I lost back when she lost hers. There are days that I feel at peace with the loss of my mother and then there are days when it doesn’t make sense and I become angry all over again. There are days where I want to surround myself with people and just enjoy life and there are days where being alone for the entirety of my day sounds wonderful.

To those of you reading this and are unfamiliar (thank you, Jesus) with grief and what it can do to somebody..please understand that grief does not have a sound and it does not look the same on everyone. Something I have done since my mom passed is approach everyone as though they are grieving something. They probably are.

I am. Seven years later-I am.

Dear Mommy,

Can I be 21 years old and still call you that? Eh, you’d probably laugh at me but wouldn’t care. I just need you to know how deeply you have impacted my life even after you’ve been gone seven years. I approach people with so much more understanding than I think I would have if I didn’t know what grief was like. Your death shook me to my core. I was convinced that your death was my death, only my body stayed on earth. Then I realized a few things;

1. You’d kick my butt if I spent one more second crying about the fact that you are with Jesus.
2. We got you for 11,14, and 18 years as our mom. No one else got to live that joy, but we did.
3. You’d be so proud of me for graduating in the spring with my Bachelor of Social Work and then say “are you crazy?!” and we’d laugh together.
4. Your death was a catalyst in my life to do something and be something…so I can tell you all about it when I get to you in Heaven.

Heaven is going to be a whole different kind of fun when we both are there together. But for right now, please continue to walk alongside me and listen to my expressions of grief.

I love you and miss you more than 2,555 days can express.