Navigating Loss in Your Own Way
Grief Knows No Limits My mom died on March 16, 2018. For four days, I went about life as if everything were normal. I made sure my son got a haircut. I found appropriate clothes for my boys. I bought myself new shoes. I handled all the little details that needed to be done before her memorial service, moving through the motions like a person on autopilot. And then, the night after the service, I got into bed. And I stayed there.
I had second graders at the time. Thank God my husband, who worked nights, was able to step in. I would get the boys up and ready for school, but he was the one who drove them, came home to sleep for a few hours, and then picked them up again. He cooked dinner. He played with them. I tucked them into bed. And then, I would go back to sleep. That was my life for a while. All I did was sleep. Because what else was I supposed to do? My mom was gone.
This was how I grieved. But does that mean my way was wrong? Society tends to act like there’s a proper way to mourn, a checklist of emotions to experience, and a timeline for when you should be “better.” People expect sadness, but not too much. They expect tears, but only for a while. And at some point — whether it’s weeks, months, or a year down the road — there’s an unspoken expectation that you should be ready to “move on.” But grief doesn’t work that way. It isn’t linear, it doesn’t come with an expiration date, and it looks different for everyone.
Some people grieve loudly. Some people grieve in silence. Some dive into work, some need constant distraction, and some — like me — just shut down for a while. None of those reactions are wrong. There is no right or wrong way to grieve. There is only doing the best you can in the wake of a loss that reshapes your entire world. Now, as I come up on the seventh anniversary of losing my mom, the tears come again. It’s like stepping back in time and having my heart broken all over again. I keep looking at the calendar and thinking, Seven years ago, at this time, I had a mom.
We all expect this to happen someday, and even though she had cancer and we knew, that knowledge didn’t make it any easier. I will never forget sitting next to her, holding her hand with my right hand after she passed, while my son’s hand rested in my left. A moment frozen in time. A memory that will never leave me.
I eventually got out of bed. I eventually re-entered the world. But I didn’t “move on.” You don’t move on from losing someone who was a part of your life, your memories, your heart. You simply learn how to carry that loss with you. Some days, it’s light. Some days, it’s unbearably heavy. But it never truly leaves. So, to those who are grieving, in whatever form that takes — your grief is not wrong. It is not too much. It is not on anyone else’s schedule. Grief knows no limits, and neither should our understanding of it.
About the Author, April Rodgers FreeWire Magazine/Content Coordinator
April Rodgers is a 1992 graduate of Bucyrus High School. She is the mother of four sons -Christian, Chase, Cameran, and Cory-and has been married to her high school crush, Art, for 11 years. She is also a proud pet mom to two fur babies: Wollee Bear, a Yorkshire Terrier, and Maverick, a rescued stray cat. She is the daughter of Harold Rodgers and Judy and Robert Dewalt. In her spare time, April enjoys shopping, traveling, and spending time with her family. A passionate reader, she loves The Shopaholic Series by Sophie Kinsella and proudly calls herself a shopaholic-just ask her Amazon driver! She also enjoys watching movies, with The American President being her all-time favorite. In the fall, you’ll find April on the sidelines cheering for the BHS Marching Band or in front of the TV watching Josh Allen and the Buffalo Bills dominate the NFL. Her favorite quote comes from Josh himself: ‘Be good, do good, God bless, and go Bills!’
