A Pandemic of Grace

Yes, I know.  Pandemic refers to a disease but honestly why can’t we shift our focus to the spread of something more positive?  I’m truly trying to find the silver lining in all the chaos that is now our new normal. 

I’ve been transparent with some people about my struggles over the years, especially this past year. Grief is a staple in my life. It drives what I do and what I don’t do.  It affects how I interpret situations, how I process life. I wish I didn’t have to live this way but it is the hand I was dealt. Last year, with Dad failing, it was harder than losing Holden. With Holden, I was allowed to be weak. I was allowed to feel the immense pain and I was able to express it among those who knew what my heart felt. I felt like I could openly grieve and lean on loved ones to help me carry the pain. 

Not many know what it is like to see a big hero of a Dad slowly turn into a stranger.  Already weak from all I had endured, I didn’t handle his failing and death in a heathy way. I held in a lot because I needed to be strong for everyone else. I needed to keep my composure because I was suffocating anytime I truly saw what was in front of me. My depression became an angry monster and I tried to go off my meds and prove how strong I was and that it couldn’t control me. That was a mistake.  I felt anger and resentment towards those who meant no harm to me and loved me. I was just so mad that people couldn’t see how hard this was for my family because we always put on a brave front.  Truth is, it’s scary for everyone and I feel like we don’t reach out as much as we should. Life is a lot more beautiful when we can be honest with each other.  I see that now. 

Therapy and medication changes has helped and I thought I was doing better. Then came this pandemic. It hit me hard. I was trying to work (in a new position), help with school for 3 of the kids, manage a household and find a way to keep the stress levels down for us all. It was too much. I finally went to a dear friend who is my NP to talk about my anxiety. She’s seen me in some pretty dark places and always has my heart in her best interest. She had a student NP, let’s call her D, with her whom I’ve known forever and I just adore her. Trying to be strong, I started explaining about how I’m struggling with all the demands, fears that I’m hurting my marriage, guilt that my children haven’t had a whole mother since losing Holden and that my mental health struggles are trickling into the kids. Then the tears came. She said some lovely words and then came the punchline “you have to give yourself some grace” (there may have been a “damn” before the grace☺️). Yes!!!!!   I never do. I’m so hard on myself and trying to do it all. People always see this organized, put together person but it’s all a front. Behind the scenes, I’m emotionally struggling with it all.  I recognize that my anxiety is fed by chaos and I try so hard to be prepared and organized to reduce my anxiety. Truth is, I’ve been a hostage to routine due to my anxiety.  Any chaotic shift sends me into a tailspin and I can’t seem to get myself straightened out. It’s exhausting, mentally and physically.  I sat there with tears in my eyes as these two beautiful souls reminded me that I’m allowed to feel what I feel because I’ve been dealt some pretty shitty cards. I know everyone has struggles they’ve faced and I need to embrace what I’ve been through and also how far I’ve come, no matter how small the progress may be.  So with my continued therapy and a new medication regimen, I’m trying to change my focus. 

I’ve been blessed with the most amazing cheerleaders in my life and I need to find a way to give myself grace to see what I’m capable of.  I’ve scared myself with how self critical I can be and this pattern needs to stop. I pride myself in advocating relentlessly for my children’s mental health, yet have fallen short for myself.  Mental health has always been something discussed behind closed doors or not at all. It’s okay to struggle.  It’s okay to feel hopeless. What isn’t okay is feeling like you have nowhere to turn. Where is the rule book that says you have to have your shit together at all times. Why can’t we be a beautiful mess sometimes and give ourselves some grace?  We’re all a little bit broken and it’s those cracks that unite us as humans. No one is perfect. No one has it all figured out. We’re all just bustling away, trying the best we can and societal pressures, life challenges and the constant stimulus of social media clouds over the good we do. It’s time to clear the fog and appreciate the view. Lord knows I haven’t paused long enough to see how wonderful it is. I think I could get used to this change ❤️

Finding Peace Amongst the Pain

The other night, after leaving the ER with Lydon, I had some time to pass while we waited for his medication to be ready.  I decided to drive around Dodgeville and look at Christmas lights and thankfully there was still a lot up and they were lit.  Lydon was extra chatty just as he always is when his sisters are not around.  I decided to ask him a couple questions.  My heart was screaming to ask but my mind kept telling my heart to stop being ridiculous.  I finally asked "Do you ever see Holden? Does he talk to you?"  In some insane, irrational part of my brain, I hoped that his answer would be "Sure, Mom, he talks to me all the time. He says 'what's up'!"  Instead, he yelled at me in his mature 2-year-old voice demanding to see more lights- "More lights,  Momma."  I don't know what I wanted or expected.  I just feel that with the 6 month mark looming in the near future, the only memories I have of my precious Holden are slowly fading away.  Tomorrow means the year of his birth and death is over and part of me wants to hold on as long as I can.  There have been little signs of him- the hummingbird on the postcard stamp, the hummingbird on the kleenex box at the dentist and the hummingbird figurine I stumbled upon at the store.  But still, I am left with wanting more.  I will never get what I truly want but my heart still cries out for a sign that we will be okay and it remains unanswered.

Before I ran Lydon to the ER, we had to go say goodbye to his daycare teacher whose beautiful life was cut tragically short just 2 days before Christmas.   Bill told me about the night he was explaining to the girls about how Jenny was going to Heaven and the tears that welled up in Harper's eyes.  What he said next will haunt me forever- "The kids sure have been through a lot this year."  I felt my heart drop just as it did when we found out we lost Holden and Ricky.  My beautiful earth trio has faced more in their short lives than most adults and yet their beautiful minds and hearts continue to amaze us with their unwavering faith.  We took the kids to say goodbye to Jenny because they wanted to.   We gave them that choice.  The girls colored her pictures and they gazed upon the pictures at the funeral home exclaiming how beautiful she looked in her wedding dress.  We paid our respects and headed home feeling a little more empty than before.  Then, Bryn started to talk about how beautiful Jenny's urn was and how she was with our boys now.

Six months ago, my children's experience with death was limited.  Then, they were thrust into death without any safety net and yet they have embraced it, almost found some peace with it.  They do not look at death as we do, they know in their hearts that our loved ones are in the most amazing place- Heaven-and they are okay with that.  Before this profound peace, there were moments where I honestly wondered how I would even make it let alone help my children.  To hear your child say they would rather be in Heaven with their brothers than to be on this earth...it shatters your soul.  How does a child even know the feeling behind such a statement.  I knew then that they lost a little bit of innocence that they would never get back.  To come from that gut wrenching moment to now, I know we are doing the best we can but I can honestly say I was so consumed by my grief that I didn't really stop to think about the complete impact it has had on my children.  That one statement of Bill's snapped me out of my haze.  I felt utterly disappointed in myself but then we went to see Jenny. To see them smile and talk about Jenny in such a beautiful way, I feel as if they have overcome their demons whilst I still must battle mine.  I wonder if instead of talking to them, the boys are sending them comfort,  little hugs of encouragement filled with immense love.  Maybe that is what makes them so comfortable with the concept of death; they know it will all be okay.  I wonder if those are my signs, through the words and actions of my earthly trio.  It is as if the boys have given a little piece of their soul to each of their siblings, giving them strength when their Momma lacked it.

I look to this new year with fear and excitement in my heart.  I know we are stronger now than we were before but we gained that strength through earth shattering loss.  Although stronger, we are still quite fragile so I do hope that 2015 is kind to us.  One year ago, I was newly pregnant with Holden and certain of our life ahead.  Now, I look ahead one day at a time, one foot in front of the other, one prayer at a time ♡