Someone recently shared a picture with me of her with Ariella from 4 years ago, so a few months after Ariella was diagnosed. In it Ariella is wearing a shirt that says “Kind Heart, Fierce Mind, Brave Soul”. These words describe Ariella quite well. I don’t think at this point we realized just how fierce and brave she would ultimately be but we already knew that she was not going to let cancer stop her. In this picture Ariella has a huge smile and if you didn’t know any better you would think she didn’t have a care in the world. And at that moment, in that picture, she probably didn’t. When she was in the hospital, when she was feeling bad, cancer was all she could think about. But in between treatments, when she was feeling good, she lived like any other 9, 10, 11 year-old-girl. She was having fun and in that moment, that was all that mattered.
Grief is different. I can put on a smile, take a picture, and also look like I don’t have a care in the world. But my grief lives in me. It’s not just moments in time, it is all the time, even when I may be enjoying myself, living my life, not wallowing. This grief, it’s a part of me, always. My good moments, my bad moments, all viewed through the lens of my loss. I still feel this grief in my body. It starts in my chest, my heart. When grief waves crash over me my heart races and the waves ripple outward. The waves spread upward, a lump in my throat, silencing me. But then upward still, to my head, where the tears and throbbing start. I lose focus, forget what I’m doing, become confused. At the same time the waves move down, into my legs. I can’t sit still. The only way to quiet my legs and quiet my grief is to move. I exercise. A lot. Over two years later and the grief still manifests in physical and cognitive symptoms.
Grief has made me a liar. Everyday when I exchange the perfunctory greeting with others, hey, hi, how are you, how’s it going, etc. etc. I lie and say good, okay, fine. No one would know this constant pain I’m experiencing. Outward appearances mean nothing. I am so tired of being in pain, of feeling this heartache both emotionally and physically. But at the same time, I don’t want it to go away. Because I should be hurting. My daughter is dead. How an I feel anything but hurt?