Overcome Grief: Journaling Towards My New Beginning Part Three

To help others overcome grief, one of the most powerful things we can share as grievers is our story.

I want to share mine.

To do this, I am going to publish a series of blog posts about me and my relationship with my mom. This is my third post.

These posts consist of memories both past and present, random thoughts, basically a brain dump of the things I needed to get out of my head in order to help myself overcome grief.

If you’re interested in learning more about how I came to write these, visit my guest blog posts on Alison’s notebook!

Read to the very end, because next, I want to hear and share YOUR story.

 

Part Three

(Note: These are a lot of disjointed thoughts and ramblings… even more so than the other two posts.)

I want to write about us, our whole life. I want to write a book, not just my therapeutic thoughts about our relationship. My hope would be that a book would help others overcome grief even more than this journaling series.

I want to compare our life to Gilmore Girls. Talk about the ups and downs, how similar and dissimilar we are. You were 21, she was 16. You both moved out and did your own thing. They struggled, we struggled. Absent father that makes sweeping gestures at random points in life. Never getting married always in a different relationship.

I think I’m still trying to figure out who you are, who you were. How you got to where you got to in life. I think you have so many similarities to Lorelai. I know I have a lot of similarities to Rory. We never got to live a year in the life though. You were already gone by then. That’s where the parallels really end.

 


 

I’m sorry I was such a shit. I didn’t get it. I hated having my picture taken. Now as I’m looking through our photos during our Europe trip, I’m so sad. I haven’t come across one picture of us yet. The photos of these places are meaningless now.

I remember thinking that I wanted as much proof as possible and it didn’t matter who was in the photo. I see now that it does matter. It matters a lot. I didn’t know it then and now I’m deeply saddened by the fact that we don’t have more pictures with each other. I’m sorry.

 


 

Having Christmas without you every year hurts so much because of how amazing you made it every year. You made Christmas so special.

When I thought you didn’t care, when I thought you didn’t “love” me because you wouldn’t buy me something in the middle of the year, you made up for all of it at Christmas. I got everything I could have ever wanted. I was so spoiled. And every year I was always so surprised.

Even when I was older, I still couldn’t believe that you got me everything I wanted over the past 12 months that we didn’t buy in the moment.

I of course, am following that same path with G. I want her to have everything. It’s silly… the stuff. You don’t need it, you just need love. But that’s the way you showed me. No wonder why gifting and receiving gifts is my primary love language. I grew up that way.

 


 

You were beautiful. It didn’t matter that you always said you looked bad. I always thought you were one of the most beautiful women alive.

There isn’t a picture of you where I don’t think you’re stunning, but there are pictures of you where you’re beyond comprehension.

You could turn it on so easily and just blow all the other women out of the water.

 

 

What happens next?

 

This series will consist of four parts!

If you have a story that you think will help other people overcome grief and want to chat, please contact me here or schedule a 30-minute grief discovery session!

Our stories are powerful and relatable and help us know that we’re not alone in our grief and that by sharing and working together, we can overcome grief.

Help me share your story!

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