I've always been a super organized person. I've always been a non-procrastinator and gave everything in life my all. I had a friend ask me how I was doing this morning in reference to losing my Daddy. I said, "Ok, I guess" and proceeded to tell her that we were stepping down from teaching after November. There are a few reasons for this, but some of it is my stress/anxiety levels being a whole new high. I really just want to release everything that is not necessary and then gradually reintroduce these things back as my mind and heart settle. I told her that I feel like I'm going to break. The feeling of knowing I have certain things in life that are NO choice, but the ones that ARE have to kind of go right now. I don't know another way to say it, but she nailed it. She has been through this herself (a sudden death of a parent) and said, "you feel scatter-brained" BINGO! That is it! I've never considered myself a scatter brain before, but here I am. Jamie has even noticed that I'm more forgetful and kind of all over the map in my emotions and where my brain is.
I'm beginning to find normal again I suppose in daily life and feeling the obligation of the "Sandwich generation" as well as my own personal grief. I do realize that my Mama is energetic, healthy, and young to be a widow, but I still feel this "sandwich" between 2 generations. My own house is obviously priority #1, but my Mother has suddenly moved up to a close #2. Thankfully Jamie feels this draw as well and we are on the same page, so he understands when I feel a compulsion to "take care" of my mother. While the unknowns of the future fall on her worries, I know in my heart that she WILL be taken care of financially, emotionally, and physically, because we will see to it and would have it no other way.
My mom has still gone to soccer games, called to check on us, and filled in at work for another lady that has also suffered an incredible loss. She told me the other day how much she needed us and all I could think was, "no, we need you." I told her that she was not allowed to leave this earth for at least 20 years. While I say this joking knowing that God can do whatever he wants and we found out all too much how quickly plans and life can change (without warning), I realize how important my family is in a whole new way.
We get so busy in "life" that we sometimes don't put the people in our lives a priority, hug them, visit them, tell them that we love them, and make time and memories with them a priority in our lives. You can't get that time back and it fleets before our eyes. My Daddy had plans he never got to as he thought he had "tomorrow". I'm positive my Daddy would have chosen to live as he was having a pretty decent life and retirement with my Mama. However, he didn't have a choice, but we DO have a choice in how we spend our PRESENT!
11 comments:
I've not said anything for a while because my story in no way compares to yours, but what you said at the end of your blog compelled me to reach out. It reminded me of this hymn, which is one of my favorites:
I don't know about tomorrow;
I just live from day to day.
I don't borrow from it's sunshine
For it's skies may turn to grey.
I don't worry o'er the future,
For I know what Jesus said.
And today I'll walk beside Him,
For He knows what is ahead
When my dad died at 26 I was 15 months old and way too young to remember. I struggled in my own way much later, but the shock and searing pain that rested on the shoulders of the people that were closest to him then wasn't hard to miss. Even though our stories don't compare, I do know the effect it had on my family. It was a lesson they learned very painfully: a long life is never guaranteed. If a man with the world at his feet was taken away in the blink of an eye, who was to say retirement age was in store for them? Or even the rest of the afternoon? It's a painful, dark way to live, but eventually through lots of grasping in the dark and gnashing of teeth, a person gets to a point where routine takes over and pain doesn't seem so acute.
I know you feel like a scatter brained mess right now. Take all the time you need to get your feet under you the best you can. Know that we love you very much and we'll do whatever we need to do to make the burden as light as it can be. But most of the time, humans in their limited capacity to understand foul up and can never say or do the right thing. So just know that we are continuing to pray for you and your family that your walk of grief is made light with the loving power of Jesus. His is a great hand to hold.
Thanks Rachel...I get up in the morning, because my children need me. I'm finding normal again as I do have responsibilities in life. Routine is good, regular, and predictable, which is what we all need. That part is getting easier even if I'm not as organized. I can laugh and be happy and be grief stricken all at the same time, which is confusing and new to me. I think I'm a pretty good actor as I can go out and look and BE normal when my anxiety is through the roof! I know you can probably relate.
I realize that grief resembles fear in some capacity. Jamie was later than he told me the other day and I began to have visions of him in danger/dead and when he didn't respond to my texts/phone calls, the panic set in. I never faced a sudden death and never lost a parent and scares me to my CORE that I know that losing someone closer (someone in my house) would be worse than what I'm already feeling. He realizes that even when it seems unnecessary that I do have a REAL fear of losing him, and a text back is in order even if you are only a little late. I answered the phone when he called, "I thought you were dead" and while I was joking in a way, I kind of wasn't either.
It has put things into perspective for me though and not all that is negative. I have a new found mission in my heart to reach out to people that are hurting and encourage them. Grief is not over after the funeral service even if it is for everybody else on the outside.
Our stories are quite different in many ways, but in the end, we still have gained the same lessons.
God is really good even when life isn't!
I know I get concerned when my children are traveling. When Glenn has to get up early and drive to Nashville by himself I worry. I know we shouldn't worry, but I think that is unavoidable sometimes. Yes, a reply to a text or phone call could sure ease a lot of stress. I think guys just don't realize that sometimes.
Pat
His phone was dying and he couldn't text due to the fact that he was driving. He is always good about letting me know, which only added to my frantic emotions.
My emotions are FAR from a normal range right now though. I know that, he knows that, and I just hide it well. When your husband is a little late, it very rarely means that they are dead. At the time, you couldn't have convinced me otherwise until he called me.
I've never endured a sudden death and I had a friend (who lost her mother suddenly as well) tell me that this was normal and she felt the same way when her husband was running a bit behind (even still). Great...a lifetime of panic when someone is simply running behind with a dead cell phone!
I think a little normal healthy worry of concern is being a human that loves, but I've jumped off into the land of people with straight jackets and rubber rooms, I'm afraid!
If I can help in any way let me know. I can try and home school the kids to give you a break if you need one.
Pat
A lifetime of panic is right! My mom suffered with that terribly and it mostly fell on me. I even had to sing at the top of my lungs while in the tub so she knew I wasn't drowning. And forget going outside by myself. This was until I was nearly in middle school! But eventually she got some help and it all leveled out. But it did take a long while.
And I understand the straight jacket concept. When I finally drug myself into counseling one of the questions upon intake was "Have you ever been institutionalized?" And I KID YOU NOT I wrote down "No one has mentioned it, but I'd pack my bags right now." I would have skipped in!
If someone told me I had to stop taking Prozac today, I think I might punch them. :-)
And if you need me to take Micah to drama class on Mondays I can. I head that way anyway. :-)
Thanks...he was suppose to be there at 3:15, and the key discovery was at 2:40, so not my best parenting moment! It would have frustrated me 6 weeks ago, but right now all negative emotion seems to be so much "bigger" than what it really is. He is such a sweetheart and so forgiving and fine. He just said that to get the keys for the soccer game, because he knew their team couldn't play without the girls. So sweet and selfless that boy of mine! Note to self...get an extra key made!
I'm simply amazed at the patience Jamie has with me. He has been through a tremendous loss himself, yet composes himself to care for me and listen to me whine. My kids have been so wonderful and have had to learn some hard lessons through their loss as well. They are always doing the "math". You know, "how old is G-mama?"..."How old is Paw Paw" kind of math like they are mentally trying to figure out who is 'next'. This is such a "big" thing for them to have to handle at their ages and as a parent we just want to protect them from all of this, but can't.
I know that the panic will get better in time. The grief will fold over into smiles when I think of DAddy instead of tears and confusion on how this all happened. The visions of him sitting at the table lifeless will be replaced with memories of funny times. I've yet to even convince myself it is permanent and it has been 5 weeks, yet it is. I look at the grave marker when I go just to make sure that it still says Daddy's name like it is going to change somehow or I'll wake up.
Thanks for the offers of help, but I make it really well through the day. Soccer is over Saturday and while the 2 birthdays on the horizon are the first milestones that Daddy won't be calling or coming this year, it is also happy as God gives me the reminder of the beautiful lives he has entrusted us with.
The doctor's appointment is next week...bring on the Zoloft that used to be my friend 5 years ago!!!
Rachel, your mother endured something so unique that I can understand her panic. YOU were part of that marriage and YOU are a piece of him, so in turn, she wanted to make sure you were protected and safe at all times. She had a huge slap in the face in her mere 20's that life is so very precious and fragile.
I understand it now, but then it was hard to wrap my head around. However, the singing in the bathtub thing is something I WILL be using with Leah. Although it was born of anxiety, it's a pretty neat trick.
And yay for Zoloft! That's a good one. (Although I'm a dipped and dyed Prozac fan, when you find what works for you, go for it! Cheers!)
I don't make mine sing. I just make them say something to me. This is only an issue with Chloe and even she is 5 1/2, so not a big issue, but if she is really tired and I don't hear water moving around I want to know she is fine.
I'm sure your mother still looks at you and just smiles on the inside of the reminder of him and now Leah is also a little piece of your Dad now. That is precious!
I'm more grateful than ever that we named Micah after Daddy (Micah David). I really did it, because Micah was Daddy's first boy (little did we know he would be the only boy), but now it is even more special.
Jamie tried to get me to go to the doctor when this happened. I kept saying that I'm suppose to be sad, grieved, and crying, so it didn't make sense. Now I constantly have that feeling like a person does before a job interview, big presentation, etc where you just feel tense all over and an impending sense of doom. It is just pure anxiety and it is TERRIBLE! I'm not really depressed, I don't think, but I'm nervous as a cat.
So maybe things will be kicked in before the holidays. Although, we should have a furry friend around Thanksgiving, which will bring me a lot of smiles anyways. Shhhhhh....big secret! The kids have no idea and I love it!
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