FEBRUARY 8
Recovery is not a process we can will, but consists of exper-
iencing many small deaths, the passing of significant an-
niversaries, until our identity is solid and natural in the
pronoun “I.”
—MARY JANE MOFFATDo you remember how it was those first weeks and months
after your loved one died? The first time you went to the
grocery store? The first time you changed the furnace filter?
The first time you went to the movies? Nothing was too in-
significant to note. And, of course, the milestones like
birthdays and Christmas shouted their warning weeks ahead
of time.
And then, perhaps after months, perhaps after years, you
feel like a whole person again. The hurt is still there, but it
has become part of your inner self. You no longer feel as
though part of your own being has been torn away and that
everything bumps against that open wound.
I knew a significant change had occurred for me when,
upon being asked, “How many children do you have?” I
said, “I have three sons,” and didn’t need to add, “I had a
daughter who died.” That was still integral to me, but I
didn’t need to say it every time.
I will trust this process to unfold in its own time.