How do we know when grieving has gone too far and turned to obsession?
I am starting out my week realizing that it is the anniversary of the week my sweet nephew Sullivan stopped breathing and was rushed to the local hospital and then life-flighted to Toledo Children's. He was 5 weeks old. Obviously, I still remember that day, and I think of him off and on, but I try not to torture myself thinking about that or about the long time of suffering he had after that before he finally left us 22 months later. Thinking about it brings up so much anger and grief and frustration and the whole "it's not FAIR!" mentality that I have to consciously choose NOT to go there. I just quietly ache from time to time and then make myself move on.
I know that avoidance and denial aren't good things either, but life is for the living, is it not? I don't want to take away from others in my life by squandering time wallowing in grief over something that happened 9 years ago but am I grieving "enough"? I don't know who keeps score and knows when enough is enough. Part of me thinks, well I don't spend enough time remembering him, but at the same time, what good could that possibly do him now? Seriously, if he's in heaven, then it's paradise whether or not I think about him, is it not? How can what I do here on this lowly planet have any effect on what happens there? Not that I believe, but that's best-case-scenario.
I don't know what happens. I'm glad he's not suffering and trapped inside a body that his damaged brain cannot control. I'm glad we had those first smiles and connection just before his first emergency. I'm even glad he puked on me. He was a normal, healthy baby, for sure. It is sad that he was sick for so long, struggled so hard, and died so young, but what Greater Good is served if I wallow in it and dwell on every 1-week, 1-month, 1-life anniversary. It's hard not to do so.
End of babbling.