Tuesday, April 5, 2016

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!


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