#writeingrief Day 8
In reflecting on grief mentors today, the first people who come to mind are characters from The Walking Dead--specifically Michonne and Carol, both bereaved mothers.
It was just weeks after I lost Alaska when I saw the episode where Michonne told another character that her son had died. I felt so connected to her in that moment. It was around the same time that I was facing the dreaded “How many kids do you have?” question. Seeing her strength in speaking her truth has helped me speak my truth. Saying those words aloud is unbearable sometimes. I can’t make the sounds that would say that I have a daughter but she died. When someone says, “You guys should really try for a girl,” I want to scream at them that we HAVE a daughter. She’s dead, but she’s still our daughter.
These mothers, though. Oh they just kick so much ass. They have both had moments where they almost quit, but when they wake up from the despair, watch out. These two mamas will slice through anything. I feel that way sometimes. I identify with that strength (but don’t fucking call me strong). This is hard to explain. I think it might be easier to be a bereaved mother in the zombie apocalypse. They can literally slice all the bastards in half. They have to move forward or die or turn. They don’t have to listen to everyone’s bullshit drama. They don’t have to worry about what to wear or how they look. They fight or die or turn.