Frozen in Time

People often use the “seasons” metaphor to describe life. I get it. We we all have images of what each season means. And though its Fall on the calendar, my life is stuck in Winter. Over the past 2 1/2 years, I’ve been experiencing the longest, harshest winter of my life.
Frozen Melody

A blanket of heavy, wet snow envelops my heart. Joy has been suspended…No…frozen in time. The music of my life…silenced, yet again. This time from the pain of my Mom’s passing.

How did I get to this place?
How do I dig out?
How do I move on with life?
How do I end my self-imposed isolation?

After Mom’s passing, I kept myself distracted by all the “tasks” that needed to be handled. I avoided the attempts of friends (and most family) to reach out with words of comfort or empathy. Conversations that triggered emotions had to be avoided… At. All. Cost!!!

Now that I’m back at home and in familiar surroundings, I’m supposed to be moving on with my life. But I can’t get the images or sounds of Mom’s final days out of my mind. The visions fill the darkness behind my eyelids when the lights go out. The interrupted rhythm of her breathing…and then silence…drowns out the otherwise constant ringing in my ears*. During waking hours, I erupt into sobs of despair over seemingly insignificant reminders of Mom.

In the midst of this season (the dead of winter), I feel paralyzed. Frozen with grief. Clinging to a life that used to feel “normal” while a blizzard of emotions swirls around me. I can’t make time move any faster…I’m trapped. Trapped while waiting and praying for the weather to change and reveal the melody of Spring.

While I wait…
Do you have any insights or suggestions on the grieving process that you can share?

*The ringing in my ears started during chemo and never stops. The intensity increases with my fatigue level.

5 thoughts on “Frozen in Time”

  1. Thank you for the meaningful sharing Dory. No suggestion will ever be perfect, as things like this are so individual as a journey. And we only know how to speak through our own filters. But I can tell you that feeling is important. And emotions cannot leave the psyche without expression. It sounds like you had a meaningful relationship with your mom. I don’t know what that’s like. I know what I wish that was like. I know what losing others is like. And I know that grieving, in any form is almost a sacred process in my mind. Love your mom; love you. Allow your body, your psyche, your soul to need and to be nurtured. By others, by you. Take care of them in the same way a perfect mother might. And never forget what your mom would want for you. It also helps to share with others who are also there. Because no one knows, unless they do. Ya know? I’m so sorry for your loss. May Great-Grandfather hold you close during this time.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. It’s a loose reference to a Native American philosophy of deity or the Great Spirit, shared with me once by a stranger during a time of grief for me. I can’t say I firmly grasp the depths of this philosophy, but it resonated with me, and provided comfort, where other wishes felt shallow. I’ve preferred this wish of blessing ever since. Just seems to hold deeper meaning than so many clichés used today. I guess the dual idea that our ancestors are ever watching, holding and loving us. And that God is someone loving and comfortable like a wise old patriarch caring for generation after generation. I don’t know. But somehow it means more to me and I hope to you too.

        Liked by 1 person

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