Life lesson: Healing occurs in uneven stages.
Some days require a backup plan. Recovering from grief is not a linear process.
Today started out to be a good day. It was a busy day. Items on my “To Do” list included: Go to the bank, go to the post office, expect a man to help me move some furniture, go to the nursery or a store that sells plants and flowers, and go to a specialty store for a quote on work to be done.
The tortoise had made her parade to the door to be let out and found her sun spot out on the deck. She kept warning a storm was coming, but wasn’t insistent about it (she is a good weather predictor). The dog and I had gone for a walk. I was good.
Then I checked on my neighbor, who had bad news. They had to return to their winter home to see the doctor there. They had gone to the emergency room, which produced test results with other than a good prognosis. As it happens, it is not the summer for which they had hoped.
Then it started to rain. This was not a nice soft rain, it was a barn-burner with hail, and it wouldn’t stop. I didn’t want to go out anymore. People drive crazy enough here without adding rain to the mix.
Then the song that I gave to my spouse when we were first seeing each other played. It was Eddie Arnold’s Welcome to My World.
I have been keeping busy and seeing people, therefore have not had a severe grieving episode for days.
That song threw me into a major grief episode, which sent me into recriminations of why I didn’t do this and why I didn’t do that. Why didn't I express more love? Why didn’t I take better care when illness came?
Hospice education pamphlets explain grieving, that recovery is not a linear process. There will be setbacks. This was certainly a setback.
I was enmeshed in a morass. I was trapped by the rain. I was unable to do my “To Do” list.
Finally, I remembered how I had coped before, when the grieving episodes were so intense and so frequent. I had to find something to do.
One of my neighbors had proclaimed, on advice from one of her friends, that she had too many linens. That she only needed three changes of sheets per bed. The remainder needed to be donated to a good cause. My closets did need to be sorted out. I finished this at the other house, but this one has more closets. They have been keeping secrets, protecting their hidden storage.
So I got after it. I found way too many sheet sets recommended for the number of beds. I also found blankets galore. I found enough pillows to float an airplane. How does all this stuff accumulate?
So I sorted and made piles and made plans on where to dispose of the overages. I piled some of my grief into the empty boxes. It lightened my load considerably.
It was still raining, so the next diversion was to prepare excess meals. I can cook and package and freeze for the days to come. I can use the hamburger that has been beckoning me for several days before it turns bad. I need to use it before I lose it.
I managed to fill most of the day and get my grief under control. I then had conversations with some friends. After that, I consented to watch a program on TV, which I hadn't had any interest in for a long time.
The day had cycled. The elevator had gone up and down and back up. I was neutralized.
Then why did Eddie Arnold pop up, back into my head, into my heart?
I think I will hold my dog for a while, and read a book. I think sleep will eventually come. I think tomorrow will be a better day.
Let me know how you are doing. I care.
Sincerely,
Lynn Brooke
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Photo Credit: © 2023 Rachel Gareau
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