Unexpected Grief Attack

This was on a friend’s facebook page:

Her hair was up in a pony tail,
Her favorite dress tied with a bow.
Today was Daddy’s Day at school,
And she couldn’t wait to go.

But her mommy tried to tell her,
That she probably should stay home.
Why the kids might not understand,
If she went to school alone.

But she was not afraid;
She knew just what to say.
What to tell her classmates
Of why he wasn’t there today.

But still her mother worried,
For her to face this day alone.
And that was why once again,
She tried to keep her daughter home.

But the little girl went to school
Eager to tell them all.
About a dad she never sees
A dad who never calls.
There were daddies along the wall in back,
For everyone to meet.
Children squirming impatiently,
Anxious in their seats

One by one the teacher called
A student from the class.
To introduce their daddy,
As seconds slowly passed.

At last the teacher called her name,
Every child turned to stare.
Each of them was searching,
A man who wasn’t there.

‘Where’s her daddy at?’
She heard a boy call out.
‘She probably doesn’t have one,’
Another student dared to shout.

And from somewhere near the back,
She heard a daddy say,
‘Looks like another deadbeat dad,
Too busy to waste his day.’

The words did not offend her,
As she smiled up at her Mom.
And looked back at her teacher,
Who told her to go on.

And with hands behind her back,
Slowly she began to speak.
And out from the mouth of a child,
Came words incredibly unique.

‘My Daddy couldn’t be here,
Because he lives so far away.
But I know he wishes he could be,
Since this is such a special day.

And though you cannot meet him,
I wanted you to know.
All about my daddy,
And how much he loves me so.

He loved to tell me stories
He taught me to ride my bike.
He surprised me with pink roses,
And taught me to fly a kite.

We used to share fudge sundaes,
And ice cream in a cone.
And though you cannot see him.
I’m not standing here alone.

‘Cause my daddy’s always with me,
Even though we are apart
I know because he told me,
He’ll forever be in my heart’
With that, her little hand reached up,
And lay across her chest.
Feeling her own heartbeat,
Beneath her favorite dress.
And from somewhere here in the crowd of dads,
Her mother stood in tears.
Proudly watching her daughter,
Who was wise beyond her years

For she stood up for the love
Of a man not in her life.
Doing what was best for her,
Doing what was right.

And when she dropped her hand back down,
Staring straight into the crowd.
She finished with a voice so soft,
But its message clear and loud.

‘I love my daddy very much,
he’s my shining star.
And if he could, he’d be here,
But heaven’s just too far.

You see he is a Canadian soldier
And died just this past year
When a roadside bomb hit his convoy
And taught Canadians to fear.

But sometimes when I close my eyes,
it’s like he never went away.’
And then she closed her eyes,
And saw him there that day.

And to her mothers amazement,
She witnessed with surprise.
A room full of daddies and children,
All starting to close their eyes.

Who knows what they saw before them,
Who knows what they felt inside.
Perhaps for merely a second,
They saw him at her side.

‘I know you’re with me Daddy,’
To the silence she called out.
And what happened next made believers,
Of those once filled with doubt.

Not one in that room could explain it,
For each of their eyes had been closed.
But there on the desk beside her,
Was a fragrant long-stemmed rose.

And a child was blessed, if only for a moment,
By the love of her shining star.
And given the gift of believing,
That heaven is never too far.

and I made the mistake of reading it at work.

Then I made the further mistake of talking to a co-worker about it.

And then…

Grief attack.

Beat the hell out of me tears and twisty stomach type grief.

Vomiting up the pain and sadness that I keep locked up in a tight little box.

In the washroom at work.

Trying desperately to be quiet enough that my co-workers and any clients can’t hear me.

Unable to staunch the flow.

I’m not pretty when I cry.  I get red eyes, red nose, red cheeks and it’s obvious to EVERYONE that I’ve been crying.

And I’m at work.

I’m incredibly grateful that it’s a slow day at work.  I don’t think the crying’s done yet.

cry

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4 thoughts on “Unexpected Grief Attack

  1. Dianne says:

    Ah Jane – I understand. For those of us who keep our grief locked up tightly, I think these things cross our paths now and then just to force it out of us. It’s not healthy to store it away, but we can’t help ourselves. So when something triggers it, just go with it. Let it all out because it needs to get out. And then take a deep breath and walk back out to the light. It’s ok if others notice (I’m one of those, too, who is unable to cry without it being obvious) … so often they won’t say a word even if they do notice because they really just don’t want to have that discussion. ♥

  2. InstantWidow says:

    That’s why, when I stumble into it, I don’t read that shit. And breaking down at work … I can relate … sucks … just add embarrassment to humiliation and stir … sucks. Deep breath, girl. Blow your nose. Straighten your shoulders. Walk forward. Repeat as needed. *hugs*

  3. Chris Mulholland says:

    Never, never read stuff like that at work. You are far from done with “grief attacks” or “grief bursts”. Frankly, I am shocked that you are dating so soon. I could never manage it, new guy is just being used to bandaid a wound. I know I am far from ready for that.

  4. sunnyjane says:

    I get that I probably shouldn’t read that stuff at work – some days I have a handle on it, and some days I don’t. That day – I didn’t.

    Chris – I appreciate your concern and your comments. I know that everyone is in a different place when it comes to their grief – that what works for one doesn’t work for another. No one’s grief journey is the same – I have friends who met, and married within 6 months of their respective spouses’ passing. I love them both and they are incredibly blessed to have found each other.

    I wish you well in your journey – it’s unfortunate that there’s no link so I can read your blog – i’d love to read more of your journey. I may very well be following you already – but unlike Instant Widow – I can’t see a connection on the blogs I follow.

    Jane

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