Stages of Grief

The feelings associated with grief are messy. And complicated. At least they have been for me. I’m sure it’s true for anyone. They talk about there being 5 stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

I never went through denial. I could feel it when I got there that night. It was taking them way too long to come tell me what was happening. I have been in healthcare for too long to not know what that means. On the drive there, I was hoping he was just hurt. I had a sinking feeling, but I was hoping it was just a bad injury. I have had moments where it doesn’t feel real. Like he will just come through the door at any moment.

“MOTHERRRRRRR…MOMMMMMM…I am really wanting some Cane’s….”

But even though it doesn’t feel real in my heart sometimes, I still know it is. So I am not sure that qualifies as denial. Or is it? Shit. I don’t know.

Anger…fuck. Yes. There is a lot of anger. So much anger. I am angry at the world. I am angry at the man who made that left-hand turn. I am angry at myself for not telling him one last time how much I love him. I am angry that he ever started riding even though I’m actually not because I know how much he loved it. I am angry that my son doesn’t get to live the life he deserved. That it was taken from him. I am angry that I do not get to have the rest of my life with my son. With the future version of him that I envisioned. The one he envisioned.

Bargaining. I am not sure if I have done that. Maybe I have. I don’t know. Supposedly, the bargaining stage in relation to grief is usually “if only I had”. Other than wishing that last morning had gone differently and I had gotten out of my car to give him a hug instead of texting him as I left for work, my only “if only” situations are ones I have mentioned already, like “if only he’d have left earlier”.

And depression. That one is easy. One source I was reading online says it is the “quiet” stage. It hasn’t been quiet for me. I have really struggled. I have struggled with sleeping. I have struggled with my appetite. I honestly don’t even know if I want to be on this planet anymore. And no. I am not fucking suicidal. Calm down. But what is a world without my son’s light? How do I find a way to re-light the flame snuffed out when he was taken? I need to find a way. His brother needs me to find a way. He would want me to find a way. I know he would. He would want me to be happy. He would want us to be happy. But I feel like I am failing. Like I am failing myself. Like I am failing Carter. And like I am failing my Bryce. I can’t fail Bryce. I can’t fail.

I don’t fucking know how to do it. I don’t fucking know how to not fail them.

Acceptance. I know I will always have memories of my baby. I already know that. I already know that I am fortunate to have had almost 20 years with him. But knowing those things will never make me feel better. I will never rest in the acceptance phase of grief, where I find peace. I might find calmness. But I will never find acceptance.

Because I do not accept it. I do not accept what happened. I know that it is true. I accept that it is the truth. But I do not accept it. Those are two drastically different things in my mind.

I do not accept a world without my son. I do not accept a world without his smile. I do not accept a world without his hugs. I do not accept a world without his kindness. I do not accept a world without his love. I do not accept a world without his heart.