Grief is a very strange emotion. It hits people at different times in their lives, in certain
situations. And out of nowhere it sneaks up on you without warning. Someone with Autism (like me)
might show grief differently. If a situation comes up that derails my plans, I
make up my mind that I can fix the problem and that I’ll be fine. Death is the one thing I can’t
change- it’s the one thing that I can’t fix and make it so that “I’ll be fine”. Death in inevitable; we will
all die in the end. When we die, we won't be the ones suffering. It will be the ones we have left behind.
When my mom's dad passed away almost 10 years ago, I didn’t cry for a few weeks. It
wasn’t the first grandparent I had lost, but it was the last grandparent on my mom's side. I knew that
my mom was taking it so hard. She cried to us one day and said, “I’m now an orphan”. Seeing and
hearing my mom cry was so heartbreaking. So, I decided I had to be the strong one for her; I
wouldn’t cry because she needed me. She started worrying about me and my emotions and
what was I not telling her. She always knew I would process and analyze my emotions before I
talked about them.
I remember this memory so vividly. The family went up to the Franklin Cemetery where
both of my grandparents were now buried. Dad and Holly had already gone to the car and mom and I
were standing over their graves. Mom asked me, “Boo, are you okay”? Of course I’m
not okay- I’m 16 years old and have lost both of my grandparents on your side. I see you crying
every night for your parents and I don’t know how to help you. And yet I said, “Yeah Mom, I’m okay.”
Mom: “Then why haven’t I seen you cry?”
Me: “There is no point in crying. I can’t cry in front of you Mom. Holly and I are being the strong girls
you need.”
Mom stood there looking at me and sighed, and then said the words that I have taken to heart
since she has passed: “I need to see you cry sweetheart. Then I know that you are going to be okay.
Once she had almost given me the permission, I started to cry as Mom held me up.
Now as I stand over my own Mom's grave, at the mere age of 25, I hold it in most of the times.
Until I hear the chimes in the tree right by her. Then I start to cry. I don’t cry for you Mom- I know that
you are okay, I cry for the people you left behind.
I cry for the husband that loved you for the past 28 years who misses his other half. I cry for my
sister who didn't get to have you as I have and has had to grow up faster than anyone ever
should. I cry for your siblings who had to say goodbye to their baby sister. I cry for your future
grandchildren who will never be held by you in this life.
But mostly, I cry for myself. I cry because I miss the times that we have shared and I want to
relive those. I cry for the future, and how you won't be there to hold my hand or wipe away my
tears. I cry because I miss not only my mom, but I also miss my best friend.
And right now I am crying writing this post. And I know you see me cry, and you know that I'll be
okay, eventually.
