Wanted: A Heart, A Brain & Courage

Dagnabit.  That word is specifically chosen in lieu of other, possibly offensive choices that probably would have more accurately reflected how the last week or so has gone.  But I am peeking around the corner, hoping to garner the courage to step around it.  It appears to be brighter there, and it leads to other sidewalks and streets never before explored.

I started early on in this grief journey determined to rise above it.  I was determined to behave so as to make my husband and son proud of how I could manage.  It’s what every Marine wife and mother should be able to do, right?  And for the most part, I was able to do just that.  It lasted until about the first of this year – just past having Dave gone for a year and approaching that same anniversary for Adam.  It hit me HARD that I didn’t want to go forward into a year that neither one of them had lived to enjoy.  And then the death spiral began, pun very much intended.

Let me preface what comes next by saying I know much of what I have felt in the last several months is not even rational.  Intellectually I can tell a far different story than I can emotionally.  The heart pumps so that the brain can work.  When the heart is broken, your thought processes are bound to be off as well.  I am able to still know what Dave and Adam would expect of me, what others would hope for me, what I ultimately want for myself.  However my heart has been damaged so badly that while I understand that there is a new plan, I haven’t found the energy or motivation to really review the plan, let alone to implement new strategies.

I also believe that due to my seemingly wonderful coping mechanisms within the first year, I have thrown people off by falling off the cliff at this point.  There is an anger evident that was nowhere to be found a year ago.  I lose patience with well-intentioned urging and suggestions.  The anger is not directed anywhere but at the situation I find myself in.  My frustration with others wanting to help is that there is nothing they can say to me that hasn’t already crossed my mind, something I’ve read in a book, or heard in some form of formal grief support.  And I know my irritation is misplaced.  Yet it remains.  I think because some of the time you just want to scream “you live in my shoes for a month and then tell me how all that’s working for you!?!?!”  Yep, there’s a little anger.  And I apologize if I've offended anyone with it.  It's not at all personal.  It's all meant for the Grim Reaper.

Initially, for at least a year, I did my level best to be positive – “Yes, it’s a lot, but there are people who have had to cope with way more than this.”  “It can always be worse.”  I denied some of my own grief because watching that of my daughter-in-law and grandchildren broke my heart even more.  They had so much more ahead of them that they were denied and I wanted them to have the rest of their lives with their husband and daddy.  It just wasn’t to be.  And that hurt me deeply on several levels.  I wanted to be strong for them as they found their way.  I don’t know if I succeeded there or not, but I knew for sure the last thing they needed was a blubbering Nana in the midst of all they had going on.  Nor will they need that ever!

Any good engineer will tell you that you can only shore up a faulty dam for a while before it breaks.  Suffice it to say, it’s been flood season this spring in my corner of the world.  I’m tired of going home to an empty house.  I’m tired of wanting my husband to help me make decisions and hold me when I miss Adam.  And when I was worried about Dave, who had I talked to but Adam, who also offered so much comfort and encouragement.  My primary emotional support system disappeared in a blink within 3 months.  And silly me thought I could manage this without a hiccup.  Dave had promised me 30 years of marriage.  (He was 60 when we married, and though I knew that 30 years was unlikely, he made so much magic in my life, I began to believe it might be possible.  Adam had always promised that he would be there for me, no matter what.   And until he couldn’t be, he was.)  How in the world did I think I had the ability to compensate for what they brought to my life? 

And now I come to the meat of this entire rant.  The realization that I need to “move on”.   My daughter-in-law is braver and/or smarter than me.  She is finding a way to do just that.  And I say Bravo!  It’s absolutely right.  I see smiles from her and the kiddos that I haven’t seen in a long time and it warms my heart.  I can't know what that has cost her, but I do see that it is bringing good things to her life.  And again, bravo to her.  Others, as time pass, I think are surprised at how much worse I am now than I was initially.  On the surface it doesn’t make sense.  I presented a pretty brave image in the beginning.   And I wasn’t acting.  I was coping.  But suddenly there was nothing left for me to do but look to the future.

This feels much like I would guess it would be to take your first steps onto the yellow brick road.  Looking back and seeing lots of happy people, wonderful times, singing, dancing, laughing and safety.  Looking forward the road twisted and turned giving no clue as to where you might end up.  Everyone promises it will lead me to the proverbial Oz.  But going there was never on my bucket list.  To go there, I had to leave some very dear people behind.  And it’s a bit paralyzing for a while.  The further you go toward the promise of something unknown and unseen, the further behind you leave your beloveds.  And the damning part of it all is that you can’t do both, you can’t have both.

So there it is.  I am having the hardest time in the world letting go.  I know it's semantics but

 I hate “letting go, moving forward, and finding a new normal”.  People do let go of husbands, but not if you found “THE ONE” as I did.  I know my life led me to him and God meant for us to be together.  All the more reason I should trust the future.  But ten years out of 59 was not nearly enough, although his impact will last many lifetimes.  And leave a child behind?  It’s unheard of, criminal in fact, if they’re living.  And who would want to?  All you do from the time you welcome them into the world is love them, comfort them, care for them and protect them.  And you do it still in your heart from afar when they grow up to be big, bad Marines and act like they don't need you anymore.  And there’s the rub.  I need them both to continue to live in my heart and I’m just not able to take those steps forward yet.  The more others do, the more firmly rooted I find myself.  (That’s part of what is irrational, for I know those who loved him best will never forget him and will take him along with them in the way that is right for them.)  But I promised to always be there, no matter what.  And my heart can’t tell my brain that it’s okay to signal me to move ahead.   I find myself holding on to heartache.  And if I tell the truth, it’s no longer heartache for them, for they are experiencing what we all desire – the glory of an eternity with our God.  The heartache is for me.  Pure and simple, in my head I’m left behind with not a clue how to fit in anywhere.  Again, irrational, because I know how well I am loved and where I am welcome.

The good news is that I am afraid if I don’t do something soon, this dark, scary, swampy place will claim me permanently.   It’s a limbo for sure, and it’s not a fun place to be.  Going backwards means I live embracing what I lost, who I miss and what I can’t have.  Dr. Phil would ask me how that’s working for me.  Ha!  There really is only one choice.  I just need to repair my heart to get some forward traction.   I decided yesterday that I would take baby steps, beginning anew each morning.  I’m not even worried where I’m going.  I’m just doing my best to put some positivity back into my life and achieve a few things a day that I haven’t been able to manage in a while.  It’s scary, terrifying actually.  But as a very wise younger sister once told me, a storm can only last for so long, and remember  how fresh it smells and how beautiful and clean everything looks in its wake.  It’s time to venture out of my storm cellar, look around and take a deep breath.  Maybe my heart can reconnect to my brain and I’ll find some courage.  It’s time I enjoy a rainbow and get some fresh air.  One.  Step.  At.  A.  Time.

Revelations

I've had to do a lot of soul searching about where I am right now - physically, emotionally, spiritually, and realistically.  It's not like me to be so unhappy.  It's not like me to ride such an emotional roller coaster.  Tears have always come easily to me for sentimental reasons but the ups and downs of my emotions of late have superseded anything I've ever experienced.  You've heard it from me - lost, lonely, depressed, sleep deprived.  I've been trying everything possible to find my way and figure out how to heal myself.

Recently I think it's begun to sort itself out.  I've written about not being the most important person to anyone anywhere.  I have no one to care for, no one to hold me.  I went to see a Reiki master for Reiki healing and one of the things she told me was that I was carrying tremendous heartache and she tried to relieve some, but that she couldn't do too much as I has still holding on to it too tightly.  That has been two weeks ago and it really stuck with me.  Why would I want to hold on to heartache?  I may feel guilty about moving on - but truth be told, I know David and Adam would both encourage me to do so.  I'm very afraid of no one remembering them, but I know that will never be the case.  They each had too many people who loved them and they each made their own impact in this world, leaving their own legacies.  I go for massage, gua sha, facials, pedicures just to have someone touch me.  I am so lucky to never have understood until now how much a human not only craves touch from another, but how much it is needed for your well being.  I don't mean that in a sexual way - just a caring, loving way.

For some reason, in the last few days, things seem to be coming together in this little pea brain of mine and tonight while talking to my hair stylist, (also a dear friend) I think I had a revelation.  I'm stuck because I'm trying to find the life I had "before".  I'm trying to be who I was "before".  And that means I'll search fruitlessly for someone who doesn't exist anymore.  I can't go back to a place that no longer exists and try to fit in.  It's like trying to go back home, but they've moved and didn't leave a forwarding address so you can't go there.  Well, okay, I do know where they are but it's not time for me to be there.  I hope that I have the same address one day.  What it is about is me grieving, for Dave, for Adam and now I know that I'm also grieving for me.  I didn't realize that at first consciously, but I think my subconscious did and that's when it got so much harder for me.  I've only always wanted to be a mother and a wife.  Thank goodness I'm still a mother, but by half now.  And I'm no longer a wife.  I don't know how to be me now.  I don't recognize who I am, where I'm going nor do I know who I want to be.  I don't know who I can be.  I don't have a freaking clue what my future holds.  And that scares the hell out of me.

Everything familiar has changed.  Certain circumstances restrict the possibilities, meaning I still have to work, still need to live here while I'm working.  But I need to forge ahead, to see what is beyond the perimeters of my past existence.  It's as scary as venturing into a dark, dark forest, in a violent thunderstorm, with no phone or flashlight, not knowing what kind of terrifying creatures lay in wait while trying to find the castle where everything becomes perfect.  Okay, I'll settle for a pretty little cottage that's cozy and comfortable on the other edge of the forest.

I believe this to be as true as anything I've written about to date.  I also know I need to work on moving forward.  I need to work on letting go.  I need to find courage that I don't know if I possess.  I need to meet new people who didn't know me "before".  I need to venture outside my comfort zone.  And I will.  Probably with baby steps, but my intent is to remain in forward motion.  I can take Dave and Adam with me in my memories and forever in my heart.  And I'll need my people - all of you.  I'll need your prayers, your cheers and your love.  I will look to my past to fuel my future.  And see what other surprises this crazy life has in store.  It appears I'm about to be off on an adventure.  And while I don't know where I'll go, or how I'll get there, I know who I'll take with me and I know I'll meet some more wonderful people.  That's a start.  And I'll begin the hard task of letting go.  It's going to be scary.  It reminds me of sending my babies off to school where I couldn't control everything that happened to them.  The truth is, we try to control too much and it's why we worry and can't sleep.  It's time to let go and let God.  And make it you best day, my friends.

GPS

About 6 weeks or so I told one of my supervisors that I felt as if I had turned a corner, and was headed in the right direction, with surer footing.  And then almost immediately fell off the radar and have been lost and wandering for the last month and a half.  Traveling alone, sealed within my own mode of transportation, having to stop occasionally and interact with folk only to fuel up and find a little rest was not how I had planned this trip for sure.

I don't have any idea where I was, but I know that it was dark, and my motor was running roughly, the computer was haywire, and the cruise was flat busted.  Every turn I made it seemed as if there was a giant billboard towering above the darkness with images of some of my happiest times with my husband and son.  They were out of reach, and while I saw the joy they had contained at the time, the darkness and inaccessibility swathed them, making me sadder than ever.  I needed windshield wipers on the inside and the leather upholstery was being ruined from the salty moisture in the vehicle.

I think for a while, I didn't even care whether I was finding my destination or not.  I don't really have the address and thought I could manage by just foraging out on my own.  Big mistake.  Every good traveler knows you are supposed to prepare in advance, have a plan, a plan B, be fully fueled, well maintained, and have emergency provisions - for you and your vehicle.  This little trip could now be called an epic fail.  I just was so distraught with it all that I got in, slammed the door and just took off, thinking I'd find my way to something better, someplace wonderful.  And I had no plan, no map, no time frame, no accommodations and no one knew to look for me.  Looking back I wonder if it was subconsciously intentional.  Can't say.  What I can say is that was the scariest, darkest trip I've taken in a while.  Even the high beams that are powered by my loving family and friends couldn't help me find my way out.

Then one day came a sign.  Soon after that sign, I stopped long enough where I found someone who wanted to talk with me.  Someone slightly familiar, but no one I was totally comfortable with.  They asked me lots of questions about where I was going and how I was getting there.  I think they were more curious than caring, but not having good answers to reasonable questions was eye opening for me.  Soon after, there was another stop, one of the required kind, like a weigh station along the interstate for an 18 wheeler.  There was a lot of concern about how much weight I was carrying and assistance in how I could plan my trip so as not to be so overloaded.  Coming from a place of authority and being the semi-good cradle Catholic I am, I seriously took heed.  Pulling out of the weigh station, I realized I was lighter for having had to leave some of what I was carrying behind to be street legal.

Pretty soon, it lightened up around me and I no longer needed the high beams.  No need for sunglasses just yet, but I was able to turn on some fun, sing-along music instead of the heavy Gregorian style chants I had had playing before.  I even opened the sun roof for a little vitamin therapy.  It almost felt like a Sunday ride.  And I began to see things that were more familiar to me.  I still have no map, but am making some smarter choices, and charging up the GPS so that I'll be able to find my way home.  Just for the fun of it I'm going to choose the alternate route.  It just seems like the right thing to do.  Sometimes doing the same thing over and over and rerunning trips and memories in your head causes you to miss what's beautiful along the way.  I need to see what might happen if I choose another route.

I think I wandered quite a bit off course these past several weeks, so I won't be home safely for a while.  The good news though, is that I'm feeling ready to be back.  I'm learning a lot of what not to do and picking up new tips for a new way to get to where I need to be.  I'm getting my tires rotated, my oil changed and changing my GPS from "Gone Past Sad" to "Going Places Safely".  No idea of my ETA but determined to find where I want to be going and definitely trying a new route!  Until I see you again, make it your best day!

Signs

Anyone who knows me, knows I believe in "signs".  Always have.  I used to put them in the same category as my going for acupuncture or having someone read my energies, using essential oils or going for a Reiki session.  Many are skeptical.  However, mindset is huge and even if it happens all to be "placebo" treatment, if I feel better after receiving these treatments, to me it's been worth every penny.  I used to place "signs" in the same category.

There were some incidents after my mother died that my dad and sisters have compared and talked about and believe were very real.  There have also been several incidents in my life since I've lost Dave and Adam that either occurred in dreams or during my waking hours that couldn't have been more obvious if I had tripped and fell over them - which in my case is always a possibility.

If you've been following me, you know that I am struggling more than I have yet on this journey and certainly more than I ever have in my life.  Things are changing around me and they are changing for the better for those involved.  And I couldn't be more happy that they are, truly and sincerely.  But when you toss a rock into the water, it causes a ripple effect.  When you are not in a good place emotionally, those ripples to you may look like tsunami waves headed your direction because you don't know what to expect when you're not  strong swimmer and swimming somewhere you've never been before.

Sadly, I have a history of "over thinking, over analyzing and sometimes overreacting.  I've been in a real emotional dither since about Easter, and as I said yesterday, have no one to talk me off the ledge close by.

Oddly enough, my sister texted last night to tell me about a sign she believed was from Adam.  I appreciated it so much.  Today, I woke frustrated because I am on month 2 of antibiotics and continuing ear infections and just depressed in general.  I get to the doctor, who happened to be a schoolmate of my daughter-in-law.  And she actually is a relative by marriage on my husband's side.  So she knew about what I've experienced in the last 17 months.  She prescribed more meds for my ears and sent me on my way.  And as I headed into work I realized my insecurities hit a real high when I didn't receive the outcome on something I expected and was really letting my imagination run wild.

It was then, when I parked to go into work, that I picked up my phone and it had a photo on it from a place in FB that I NEVER have been with a beautiful message.  And oddly enough, it even resembled my son's handwriting.  As I got out of the car I must have bumped my visor which has a photo button of Adam on it.  I didn't realize I had done that until the photo landed in my lap.  I could only laugh and tell him thanks.  Finally, to top it off, as I got into the office and logged in to my computer, I checked my daily inspirational email.  It was this:

I am leaving you with a gift—peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don’t be troubled or afraid. John 14:27

A Time to Think

Flowers grow out of dark moments. –Sister Mary Corita Kent, artist and educator

A Time to Act

Change your thoughts and change your life.

A Time to Pray

Dear God, help me always to see beyond my fears to the beauty of Your creation.

And of course, "My Peace I Give Unto You" is a favorite song of mine.  I get it Adam. I can hear him saying "Chill and everything will work itself out.  Give it to God Mom".  I need to do just that, give it to God and trust in the people I love and all will be as it should.

I find it a beautiful sign, and it has changed my day.  God sends us signs all the time and if we're not paying attention we often can miss them.  Jessica calls them God Winks and I believe she is correct.  And I feel I definitely was just winked at.  I'm sharing the photo that came from who knows where on my phone.  It made me smile.  Make it your best day!  

Hope

Lessons in Hope

I recently received a key – a regular door key and on the plain side it has the word “HOPE” engraved on it.  It is my new permanent accessory until I find the door that it unlocks.  I do have hope, lots of hope.  It may be one of the only things sustaining me as I find myself in the most painful stage of this journey yet.  I am just so emotionally fragile, sleep deprived because I can’t turn my brain off no matter what tricks I try, exhausted, lonely and lost.  But my faith remains strong, and where there is faith there is hope. 

Not only do I have no idea where I’m going, I have no idea how I’m traveling, who is going with me or where I even want to end up.  I love my little house but now it’s time to mow and the yard is just too much for me.  I’m lucky to get a load of laundry done a week, now I’m supposed to mow, trim, edge, weed and fertilize?  It sounds exactly what someone needs to do to me to get me back in shape.  I should tackle it with joy, but since I don’t sleep I am continuously tired and yardwork in the heat is the last thing I enjoy doing.

I see people around me moving forward and am thrilled for them.  However, I sometimes feel left behind with no idea where I fit in anywhere anymore.  It’s something that I worry about a lot, and deep down I don’t think there is a need for concern, but it creeps in at night when you’re all alone without a voice of reason next to you to tell you you’re overreacting.  Or someone just to gather you up in a hug and hold you for a bit just to comfort you during those frightening moments.  I have realized that one of the loneliest things is not being the most important person to anyone, anywhere, anymore.  Not being needed in the way I have been accustomed to for all of my adult life is akin to floating alone, away from the party boat and into the darkness of the night and the depth of the sea.  I know that sounds selfish, but it’s just truth.  When you’re a mother to your children, you are the most important person in their life.  Then they marry, and as is right, their spouse takes that spot.  That is when you turn to your own spouse, except that spot at my dining table is empty, as well as the recliner and the left side of the bed.  I so, so miss what I found so late in life that was the unconditional love, joy and laughter packaged in a handsome, crusty outside, marshmallow inside Dave.   And while Adam had his priorities right with his family, he still found time especially late in the evening to text or chat with his mama.  He truly was a mama’s boy and I loved that.

I can’t explain why this grief journey has derailed so badly for me right now, but those who have gone before me down this path say that it’s quite normal.  Again, that the second year is harder than the first and then on top of that, due to losing Dave and Adam so closely together, I will suffer “compound grief”.  I’m pretty sure I didn’t sign up for the advanced course.  As a matter of fact, my major got totally changed without any of my input!  I’m also pretty sure my course load right now feels like philosophy, theology, psychology, sociology all taught in Japanese.  And I’m confident I won’t make the Dean’s List.  Adam has been gone for 17 months.  I just heard from a mother yesterday whose son died 17 years ago and that she may be managing fairly well and suddenly she finds herself back exactly where I am now. 

So I suppose part of my sadness is in the realization that this is permanent.  Not just losing two men I dearly loved, but the grief is now as much a part of me as those men were in life.  I will sign up for behavior modification in the next semester, although I’m working on that currently with a tutor now.  I may need an astronomy course to use those beautiful stars to chart my course.  My life and the framework of my family as I knew it is also under construction.  I’m not sure where my room will be when it’s complete and who will all be under that same umbrella with me.  Uncertainty is always hard and even harder for someone who needs affirmation, validation and assurance.  Not everyone is comfortable in sharing their feelings as openly, leaving me to wonder, often needlessly, but wonder nonetheless whether I have become too sad, too needy, too no more fun to be with.  I wish I had more confidence but it seems to be lost to me as well at the moment.  I wonder if that is something offered as an extra-curricular?

I’m surrounded with amazing friends, more than I have a right to, who are there for me and hopefully love me enough to hang with me all the way through this.  I think they will but I know that my sadness must become tedious for people.  Trust me; I know how tedious it can be.  I just am not one to bottle it up.  I need to purge or I’ll explode and that would be an even uglier circumstance, I assure you! 

I hope I can find my way out of this stage.  I hope I can find my place among those I love and that it’s somewhere everyone is comfortable.  I hope I can be more than a drain on my friends and family and that they can make this trip with me, even if it has to be in shifts.  I hope that people do realize that even in the depths of my mourning, I still find joy, most especially in the eyes of my family and the laughter with my friends.  While I have trouble making it to church, it’s not because I have a beef with God.  It’s very simply that it is somewhere families and spouses go together and Dave and I enjoyed worshiping together and I can’t focus on the service through my tears.  I hope I find my way back soon. I hope that I can continue trying this key I wear around my neck in the doors I encounter along this long dark hallway.  One day, one of them will open.  I believe it will be the door meant exactly for me.  I will know it mine by beautiful starlight, the soft, soul soothing music and the faces I love.  And I hope, no I bet it will feel just like the ending of my favorite movie.  “If I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own backyard. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with! “I hope that’s the next chapter of my story.  That one I think I can ace!