It’s complicated

I started writing this post more than a year ago. I started and abandoned it more times than I can count. I just couldn’t get it together.

One year and five months ago, my husband lost his best friend who died together with his two young daughters in a freak accident. Something like that to happen is so improbable, my mind kept going back to ‘can it really be true?’

But it was, and so once the initial wave of shock and disbelief had dissipated, grief emerged.

I applaud everyone who even tries to explain or express their grief. To me, it is the most complex mix of emotions. A murky concoction of raw sadness, guilt, fear, love, and helplessness.

M has lost his best friend. They had a very special relationship; very close to the relationships typically experienced by women. I don’t want to say too much about their relationship, because I don’t feel it’s my place to do that. His friend’s passing has left a massive hole in his heart, and that alone is heartbreaking to watch.

Then there are my daughters, who knew the girls and their dad well. My youngest was friends with the older daughter, and the four of them, together with their dads, spent plenty of time together. How do you console a grieving preteen and a teenager?

Then there is little old me. We were friends and would hang out without my husband sometimes. Sometimes, we would bicker about what’s best for M. We loved to wind each other up. Mostly, he made me laugh like hardly anyone else could.

And then there is the mother of the girls, the grandparents, his sister and her family, the many, many friends. The women in his life, the many questions that will forever be left unanswered.

How do you deal with a house full of grief? How do you deal with so many people grieving that your own loss seems insignificant in comparison? What do you say to a mother who lost her two children as well as her co-parent, confident, and friend? What do you say to a grandmother who lost her son as well as her two granddaughters?

I have little flashbacks to their house. The girls take turns sitting in my lap. We are making dinner. I help with homework. And then I feel a pang of guilt, because I see my girls grow up. Because I did get to celebrate Mothers Day yesterday. With them.

Grief is not a competition, yet it can bring out ugly sides in people. I’ve seen it before and it did rear its head. Just a tiny bit, but it was enough for me to delete my personal Instagram account as a consequence. Not the worst idea I ever had.

Where am I going with this? I am not sure. It was something I wanted to share. I am still not in a place to spend more time on this to explore and express my feelings properly. Maybe I never will be. Maybe I am afraid I will fall apart, if only for the day. Maybe I feel ashamed it affects me as much as it does, because others have lost so much more.

“None of us are getting out of here alive, so please stop treating yourself like an after thought. Eat the delicious food. Walk in the sunshine. Jump in the ocean. Say the truth you’re carrying in your heart like hidden treasure. Be silly. Be kind. Be weird. There’s no time for anything else.”

Nanea Hoffman