Call me Judgey Judgerson.
My post last week was comparing my grief to someone else's grief.
Perhaps that was poor form.
Last week, a dear friend of mine had come home from Germany because her father had passed away after a long battle with Alzheimer's.
While my friend was away taking care of her family, her dog was hit and killed by a car.
And I thought of my friend and her dear puppy, everything she had gone through the last week and I felt incredibly sad.
And I felt kind of crappy about my last post.
Because I have no right to gauge how anyone else feels about their loss, I can only gauge my own. And my even own sense is a moving target, varying from minute to minute, day to day.
I once talked to a friend who wrote about mourning the loss of his mother. "It was so intense," he said, "I could not get out of bed. The sadness seemed to consume me. Ironically, my mom and I were never very close."
My friend decided to see a Hospice counselor and together they determined that he was mourning his mom but he was also still mourning his first marriage.
Sneaky Grief, trying to get a package deal.....
I always feel a little cheated, a little one-up'd when explaining a situation and someone says, "I know how you feel."
Because we don't. Our feelings are masked by years of experiences seen only through our eyes. I don't know how you feel. You don't know how I feel.
But that's okay, we can respect and empathize, listen and provide comfort. It does not help anyone to proclaim "you have not been through what I have been through....you have no idea lady! "
That would make me a grief snob. And if I have to choose what I want to be snobby about, Grief is not on my top ten list; shoes yes, grief no.
So I will not rank anyone's pain. I will not judge.
Or at least try not to.
Or at least acknowledge when Judgey Judgerson rears her ugly head.
And to my dear, dear friend.....you know who you are. I hope you know how much I love you and how sorry I am for your loss. If it is any consilation, Samantha is taking good care of your puppy.