I would never presume to speak for another woman's experience of this dreadful journey. But it seems that I am in a new place, albeit still considerably warped from life as I knew and loved it. Well. That life is over. And some sort of new construction is in process.
Mother's Day was rough. Thank God for my two wonderful children who are still in this world, and for their honesty and compassion in the face of such hurt. I do not have many people who can absorb my candid self-expression, but they seem able to, and able to share a little of their own pain.
Yesterday I spend nearly three hours talking over a possible internhip position for next year with a senior pastor at a downtown church. He was stunned, of course, when I told him about our year, and seemed surprised that I am capable of lucid conversation. And then we went on to have a terrific time.
That interlude caused me to think back to last fall. We had to do some things -- the first week with the funeral and all the associated planning and events, a week-end trip south for my niece's wedding, a week-end trip west to visit The Lovely Daughter on Parents' Week-end, and those horrific two days in Chicago to empty our son's apartment. Otherwise, though, my life was lived pretty much in my bed. Phone, computer, dog, me. Sleep, cry, stare at ceiling. When I did venture out of my room, I was surrounded by family or close friends. People who knew, people to whom I had to explain nothing.
I see that now I am in a different place. I am taking breaks from grief. Last night a few of us stayed after class for an hour, engaged in an intense and animated discussion with our professor. I'm pretty sure I was the only one whose thoughts were elsewhere every few minutes, but I also enjoyed myself and was grateful for the chance to focus on debates and conundrums which I find that I still care about. Afterward, I realized that I was recovering from Mother's Day by returning to my regular life, altered as it is.
So. Who knows how I'll feel in another hour? But I am pretty much able to get through lots of days now in some kind of fashion that sort of works.
Mother's Day was rough. Thank God for my two wonderful children who are still in this world, and for their honesty and compassion in the face of such hurt. I do not have many people who can absorb my candid self-expression, but they seem able to, and able to share a little of their own pain.
Yesterday I spend nearly three hours talking over a possible internhip position for next year with a senior pastor at a downtown church. He was stunned, of course, when I told him about our year, and seemed surprised that I am capable of lucid conversation. And then we went on to have a terrific time.
That interlude caused me to think back to last fall. We had to do some things -- the first week with the funeral and all the associated planning and events, a week-end trip south for my niece's wedding, a week-end trip west to visit The Lovely Daughter on Parents' Week-end, and those horrific two days in Chicago to empty our son's apartment. Otherwise, though, my life was lived pretty much in my bed. Phone, computer, dog, me. Sleep, cry, stare at ceiling. When I did venture out of my room, I was surrounded by family or close friends. People who knew, people to whom I had to explain nothing.
I see that now I am in a different place. I am taking breaks from grief. Last night a few of us stayed after class for an hour, engaged in an intense and animated discussion with our professor. I'm pretty sure I was the only one whose thoughts were elsewhere every few minutes, but I also enjoyed myself and was grateful for the chance to focus on debates and conundrums which I find that I still care about. Afterward, I realized that I was recovering from Mother's Day by returning to my regular life, altered as it is.
So. Who knows how I'll feel in another hour? But I am pretty much able to get through lots of days now in some kind of fashion that sort of works.
11 comments:
I'm grateful that you are finding joy in the midst of this journey. It's good to celebrate that.
Thank you for compiling what we all shared on Mother's Day.
God bless you.
isn't it amazing how the mind starts to morph into what is needed to go on? it astonishes me. I am an optimist by nature but there things that people go through that seem impossible to survive, and yet they do. you are not the same, but still moving forward. it's so hopeful
Thanks for sharing this.
And thanks for your comment over at my place. It means a lot to me.
(((GG)))
Thanking God for you .. your friends and family ... and this new place.
whenever you mention anything like having a "terrific time"...
I am so happy.
as always... hope, joy, peace, and love be with you.
oh, thanks be to God- for the grace that is now.
blessings as you travel west. and as you continue to navigate this rough water.
...some sort of new construction...
It works.
Yes, it seems there really is something powerful force at work in the world...mending, reconciling, healing, creating the new, providing hope....
It's so good to read this post, GG.
Peace to you,
Katherine
I finally found that article: Jim Gustafson’s Ethics for a Theocentric Perspective, vol. 2. It’s actually the chapter on suicide. I don't know if this will be useful for you...but it still stands out in my mind all these years later....
a link to purchasing the book: UIC Pres or maybe you can find it in a library...
..the healing 'takes time' cliche I know, but we need to reset our brains and heal our hearts in order to cope with this huge loss and as you said in a previous blog 'it chnges one on a cellular level'
Your blog is so healing to me..and many others, so often you say just what Im thinking things I couldnt ever put into words.
much love
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