It Takes More Than Time To Heal A Wound
Some of my readers may have noticed that I like to include quotes in some of my posts. I also have some of my favorite quotes listed toward the bottom of my blog. In addition to collecting quotes, I also like to collect old sayings and when I can, find the original meaning behind them.
For instance:
In Shakespeare's time, mattresses were secured on bed frames by ropes. When on the ropes the mattress tightened, making the bed firmer to sleep on, hence the phrase "Goodnight, sleep tight."
In English pubs, ale is ordered by pints and quarts. So in old England, when customers got unruly, the bartender would yell at them to mind their own pints and quarts and settle down. It's where we get the phrase "Mind your P's and Q's."
When I was a child, one of my mother’s brothers asked me once if I had been “minding my P’s and Q’s.” I had no idea what he meant!
There’s another saying that I hear a lot. “Time heals all wounds.” Those sound like comforting words, especially in times of grief, but just think about that saying for a moment. Does time really heal all wounds?
Think about it like this. Suppose you go to the doctor with an infected sore on your arm. The doctor looks at it and says, “It’s nothing to worry about. Time heals all wounds.” Would you really put much confidence in that doctor? You know if left untreated your wound is going to get worse. Over time, the infection could even spread to other areas. You would want the doctor to prescribe an antibiotic to kill the infection. Then, over time the wound would heal.
This is just like emotional wounds, such as a divorce and the loss of a loved one. I don’t know about the “wounds” from a divorce, but I do know about the “wounds” from the loss of a loved one.
When Mother died, if I had taken the position that time heals all wounds, I might still be mourning Mother as if she had just passed away. But I didn’t. My sister and I were there for each other to share our grief and cry on each other’s shoulder. We both had friends that shared our grief and pain. Another way I dealt with my grief was writing about it. I wrote about Mother and I even wrote letters to Mother as a way to express and release feelings.
As we done these different things to help us cope, it’s like we were applying an antibiotic ointment to our “wound”. Just like the doctor applying a salve to an infected arm. Then, with time, we began to heal. I’m not saying we’re totally healed over Mother’s death. I still have guilt and regret, but because of the salve that was applied it’s better.
It takes both time and some kind of treatment to help us cope and get back to some semblance of being normal.
I think because my relationship with my dad was so different, it’s going to take even more time to properly heal from his death. If I’m honest with myself, I haven’t even properly applied the healing salve to the “wound” of his death.
It also takes willingness to do it to recover from something like the death of a loved one. It’s been almost three months since daddy’s death and I’m just not willing to properly begin the healing process. One reason is because of the guilt I feel. I told my therapist that I’m afraid of what I’ll discover if I journal my thoughts and feelings about Daddy, but until I’m willing to explore his death and how it effects me, I can’t truly begin to heal.
