Write through grief
For years, even as a young girl, I have written letters through struggles or problems that were weighing heavy on my heart. Letters that would contain words I could never say or understand, questions of why I was suffering.
First let me start off with…
My Momma Died. There, I wrote it, it stings, hurts tremendously but it also feels like I released some of my pain…
Those were the first words I wrote after she passed. I was struggling with “being in the moment” with my writing. I had so much to say but couldn’t write it. So I asked myself why?
“MY MOMMA DIED!” Screamed at me. So I wrote it. Was I being too harsh with myself? Probably. BUT on a lighter note, I came up for a breath. I wrote. Let me start by saying my Momma and I made a deal to write together. We even jokingly talked about after she passed we would channel each other and continue to write. I know, sounds crazy, it is just something I believe is possible, because writing for me is a link to something DIVINE. God? My higher self? The universal realm? A collective conscience?
Who knows, what I do know, it is the truest form of me I know. I’m hurting, that is no doubt a reason to connect and find out how to cope. So here I am COPEING…
I haven’t written in months. This is not me. So I asked myself why? All I could do was answer with positive thought. Example. “You write to inspire.” A voice in my head answered.
Then I say out loud “How can you write Jorja when you have NOTHING inspirational to say. My Momma died!” I screamed at myself again. Brutally honest, I was. In that perfect moment of realization, I knew how I could inspire… so here we go.
I found some writing exercises’ to do, which I didn’t realize I was already using these tools, my family was as well. Here are some techniques to help you heal through your creativity, regardless of your niche.
When my father and mother were in the hospital my niece crocheted blankets for them. She picked colors to match the personalities. The blankets were beautiful. I admired each little hook she made and thought to myself that I could never do that. My Momma passed with that blanket covering her frail body. It comforted her up until her last breath. This was helping my niece heal. (All I had- was words.)
Make a picture board.
During the preparation of my Momma’s service my sister’s and my aunt went through dozens of photo albums and buckets of pictures. They made picture board of my beautiful Momma. At her service I realized that I struggled looking at my Momma in these pictures. I was upset with myself because I couldn’t enjoy them, but I saw how it was helping them heal. So I became desperate to find my way to healing and here I am…WRITING (My words)!
WRITING-Pick a word for the day
Dig deep into your heart and use one word that describes the feeling you feel. Write it. Here is one of my words (I have been doing a word daily) I am amazed at how many words (feelings) I go through each as powerful as the next.
I am lost. I can’t put my finger on it but I don’t know which direction I need to go. I can’t focus. These are the times I needed Momma most because regardless of what was happening around me I knew Momma could somehow make it seem that the world wasn’t falling on me. Now that she is gone I feel lost and underneath a pile of rubble. With more being dumped on me daily. Hopelessly lost.
Write a three word phrase
This was the first exercise I did, not even realizing it. “My Momma died.” Here is a tamer version. Describe your three words and why you choose them. Feel them.
Feels like home…
Momma always made me feel as if I was home. No matter where we were, sitting in the car in the Wendy’s parking lot eating a cheese burger, because she was too exhausted to go in after her dialysis treatment. Stopping by my house after getting her hair done at the Hair dresser, or even moments driving home after I suffered my first broken heart or first failure. The feeling of home, security, love, warmth a place you long for after life’s demanding of your time. That was my Momma. Her heart loved and loved me more than I think I loved myself. Now she is gone and I feel like I’ve lost my home.
Write a letter
This last exercise for today was the hardest one for me, but I received the biggest reward from this exercise. It made the biggest impact on me. I suggest doing this exercise for yourself and it doesn’t have to be to someone who is deceased.
Write a letter to that person. Write feelings, memories, and your perception of life. Remember this doesn’t have to be perfect, edited or even make since it is YOUR letter.
I think of you often, but not as much as I should. You see, when I think of you, I get this overwhelming pressure in my chest and my heart begins to hurt. I think my heart is breaking Momma, so I try to avoid seeing your beautiful face in my mind…I can’t handle this pain!!
I talk of you often Momma, but not as much as I should. You see when I talk of you, my lips begin to quiver, and the pressure in my head throbs, and then, the tears begin to flow. I try to add something funny that you did, or said, only to help me get through the conversation of you. It must show because most people change the subject of our conversation. It hurts so much Momma…
I am trying to look like I am strong, put together, like you did when Nana died. So I cry when I am alone, because I don’t want the boys to feel my pain. Just like you did Momma.
I am missing you already Momma. I try not to because I know it is going to get harder the longer I go without having you in my life. I’m missing you so much Momma. I’m not sure I can do this without you. Momma are you there?
Write a response letter from that person. This is the hardest part of the exercise. But this is that link to connecting to them even though they are or aren’t alive. A subconscious connection.
Hey Jorja it’s me…
Jorja this is your Momma, I just wanted to let you know honey that the pressure in your chest isn’t your heart breaking. It’s me squeezing all the love I have into your heart, so my love can make you love so much bigger.
Those tears that drip from your eyes, are cleansing the sadness, to make room for the funny stuff, because I am quit fun-loving.
And Jorja Beth, there is no need to look strong, you are strong and put together. You are my daughter aren’t you?
Oh Jorja, the pain the boys feel isn’t yours, it is their own, and they need to see that it’s cleansing their sadness as well honey.
There is absolutely no need to miss me, because when you called out I answered, I’m here. Didn’t I?
You can do this, because I will always be here…
I always liked to think of myself as angel. Remember this, we were going to write? You promised to sit by my grave side and we would write stories together. Let’s get to writing. Write me back so I know you got this.
I am adjusting. I am grieving and most importantly I am healing. One day at a time. One word at a time. One exercise at a time. And the biggest part of all of this, I am WRITING with my Momma! I love you Momma!