šHave you ever cried over a car? Maybe it makes perfect sense like saying goodbye to a home or maybe it makes no sense at all. I thought my tears would baffle my husband & daughter, and theyād think I was overreacting & ridiculous. But in that moment I didnāt care. āMom, are you crying?ā Yes, I replied. āLiam rode in that car,ā replied my husband. And, so I cried when I watched its new owner drive down the street. I bought that car by myself. A huge accomplishment in and of itself at 25. But thatās not why I cried. I cried because that car was the last big thing we hadā¦ still connected to Liam.
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šMoving to another state was beyond hard. This house isnāt connected to him, the car Iāve been driving is not connected to him. Our new furniture isnāt connected to him. Finn has outgrown the crib & clothes connected to him. The āthingsā connected to him are getting less & less. Time marches on. Watching that car drive away was like watching the memory of him grow further & further away. Grief isnāt just emotions & visuals reminding us of that person, itās also woven into things. Grief is relentless, it keeps hitting like ocean waves against shorelines.
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šWith every goodbye, the same things rise up in my body. Because the healing of trauma takes time. A lot of time. I allowed my response to not only surface, but I sat flooded in them. Felt them. Felt them move, swell and dissipate. I used some Somatic tools to help them move around even more, experiencing all of it. I canāt release my pain if I refuse it. Saying goodbye to homes, cars, states, clothesā¦ it floods us the same way as a song playing, hearing their name called in a store. Not only are we brought back to a moment, a memory, the body is brought back to a state. For me, my body returns to a survival state. Itās all connected to trauma stuck in the body.
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šIt still exists in my body that I need to save him.
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āØWe have to move it, to release it. It takes time. It moves slowly. Taste the salt falling from your cheeks, breathe, when you hear the rumble, youāre moving it.
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Keeping the TayTay CD. šš«¶š»
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