It's been a while since someone asked me, "How are you doing?" I don't mean the rhetorical "How are you doing"? No, not the one that has become more of a greeting which most people respond to by saying, "Fine and you?"
Oh, sure there is always that person who takes the question at face value and proceeds to explain at length and in detail how they are doing. But most of us understand what response is expected.
For a short time after my son passed away, I was asked the question quite often. At that time, I think most who asked me how I was doing were ready with an ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on and a hug.
It's been over 4 years since Joe passed away and I rarely get asked, "How are you doing, really doing?"
It seems that acknowledgment of my grief has been relegated to his birthday, the anniversary of his death and holidays, especially mother's day.
I guess most folks assume I am "Fine thank you," especially when they see my cheery Facebook posts or watch me smiling and joking on our "Sundays with Lynda & Ross podcasts.
And to tell you the truth if someone were to ask me, "How are you doing, really doing?" I don't think I would be able to truthfully answer because, you see, it's been awhile since I've had the courage to ask myself that question.
My dear friend from Montana that came visiting last month lost a daughter at 26 weeks' gestation. That happened in 2010. Part of their trip to see Arizona and us was to consider a possible relocation down here for her husband's job. She said if they decided not to move down here, they were going to sell their present house as it was the house she brought home all her other children, the house she mourned her daughter, etc., and she couldn't get past the grief there. I'm sure she, like you, never goes a day without missing the one that was taken too young. I'm not sure what her answer would be if asked the question, but I'm sure there would be some tears involved in her answer. Time may lessen, but never completely take away the grief I would imagine.
ReplyDelete(by the way they decided to stay put where they were in the state, but work on selling their house and get into something else).
betty
It's true the grief is always there. Although at times it's buried very deep, it's always there.
DeleteI'm sorry for your friend's loss.
I'm so sorry. Perhaps you should reach out to someone you trust to have a real, in-depth conversation. It sounds like you need a good friend, some wine, and a very long lunch.
ReplyDeleteThanks Liz. My blog is a way to express my feelings. I appreciate the support of loyal commenters like you.
DeleteI was in the hospital last week so I've been getting asked that question a lot of late. Mostly though it's a passing inquiry that people usually don't expect a detailed answer about. I guess we all have our deeper issues, but we put on our cheerful fronts so as not to burden others too much. I'm fortunate in that for the most part life has been good for me and I'm usually okay.
ReplyDeleteHope you stay well and continue to face forward and think upward.
Arlee Bird
Tossing It Out
That is exactly what most of us tend to do put on a happy face. I feel fortunate to have a hubby whose shoulder I can always count on to lean or cry on.
DeleteI read your post about your hospital visit. I'm glad you are okay!
I so understand this Lynda! Grief is right there beneath the surface, isn't it. And so many tiny things can bring the feelings bubbling up. I am so sorry for the loss of your son! That is not something that ever goes far from the heart!! One step at a time....
ReplyDeletePaula, I know you do understand so much about grief. That's the way I deal with mine, one step at a time.
DeleteFirst time here and I came over by Liz...I'm not sure even what to say. We had a member of our family, a nephew at 16 committed suicide, 9 years ago. And what to say to the family can be uncomfortable.
ReplyDeleteI would call my blog a hodge podge of source. I lack the tools how to express my self emotional and I use my blog to let it off my chess.
Sorry you lost a child.
Stop by sometime for a cup of coffee and I'll stop back in and see how your doing.
Hello, thank you for visiting and for your condolences. Yes, I know it's hard to know what to say to someone who is grieving. I've been in that situation myself and wonder if I'm saying the right thing.
DeleteI will be over to visit your blog.