Sometimes I check in on the 5 or 7 Stages of Grief, just to see where I might fit that day. It’s not official grief, since Vernon is still with us, but there is obviously a major sense of loss that hits me in different ways at different times. I guess I’d define today’s check-in as somewhere between Depression and Acceptance, with a twist of Anger lurking below the surface. Its interesting that Fatigue isn’t listed, but then isn’t an active state, is it?
One of Maki’s vocabulary words for his English class is “Bereavement.” The definition:
But this is where I return to the Sages of Grief or Bereavement or whatever I should call this.
Ever since I got the call yesterday about his emergency surgery, I’d been experiencing some new feelings. It’s hard to admit it out loud, and this too may pass, but I recognized the feeling right away. Until now, I’ve been able to move into each inconvenient crisis with hopeful energy. This time, as I mentioned in last night’s post, I feel totally spent. I felt as if a corner had been turned, a downward corner.
It’s the little things that put one over the edge, I guess. This was not a major procedure, compared to other things, but it was necessary if he is to survive. And yet, it all is beginning to feel so futile, like its just more spinning of the medical wheels and stress to my life. I am exhausted today. I am stretched as far as I can go. But then…maybe I’m not…as it seems there is always more stretch left in me. I think of my Pilates classes, where I am able to stretch my hands to the floor at the beginning of the hour, but by the end, I can get them down even further. Flexibility comes with the warming and use of the muscles. You can always go a little further, apparently.
But I FEEL spent (it doesn’t mean I actually AM.) I admitted today that if he doesn’t start showing improvement and we have to spend so much time, energy, and money in life support, I honestly do not look forward to the next few years, or however long we have left with him. It’s starting to feel like more effort than its worth. I know if I weren’t so stretched, I might not feel this way…but with time, I have used up so many of my personal resources (friends to help, to ask for help,babysitters, school pick-ups) I just wonder if its all worth it. His quality of life is so small, he can’t even have a drink of water or feel comfortable lying down. And there is so little I can do to change anything for him.
I don’t know if this is a loss of hope or if it just a normal part of running out of steam. I imagine all carers get to this point. But today, I realized I’m at the beginning of letting him go (which is bound to happen at some point in the future, I just don’t know when.)
“Perhaps this is what the stories meant when they called somebody heartsick. Your heart and your stomach and your whole insides felt empty and hollow and aching.”
—Gabriel García Márquez
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This is my local hospital and where Barb was taken last year.. Turns out I was right next door for a doctors visit of my own today.. just a check up. I could have dropped by. But your title caught my attention and I just wanted to say that I’ve also done a lot of research on grief… just so you know, the person that first wrote the 5 stages feels it is often misinterpreted by many councilors. There is no need to experience all the stages and there is no order to “working” through them… they are states you may find yourself in from time to time often times returning to different periods as you learn to cope.. Also, do not deny yourself that you are grieving, a move, change in jobs a change in life can all evoke periods of grief.
Hi Randy. Well I know you could write some amazing chapters on grief and bereavement. How could you have known we were right around the corner today. I walked around aimlessly for awhile. It wasn’t too bad. I understand a little of how the grieving process is not linear. It just helps as a gage to feel ‘normal’…well, sort of!
It’s not strange you feel like this. You have taken on so, so much, for so long and I know you feel you have had to, what you have done has been so very good, but it can’t last! I wonder if the most positive way to look at this is that Vernon will live a long time, for years, until you’re old and grey, and you should think about how you want to live. It’s good for everyone to think long term, and that involves you having serious time off regularly. ( I know I keep going on about it.) Noone, you, Vernon and the children do not benefit from you breaking down. Most other people would have a long time ago. Please tell me if there is anything I can do. Lots of love
What I love most about this post is that you are allowing yourself to feel however it is that you feel today. You’re not deciding on feelings that have to be permanent… you’re just allowing the fullness of the moment to be real. That’s living vulnerably right there.
Yes, Acacia, yes! That is exactly what struck me about your post today too. Allison, this was so honest, real, and beautiful.
Allison I haven’t been able to read your blog for a few days but as soon as I started reading it tonight I knew I had to send a comment as I have been grieving over the loss of my sister for the last year and I feel I learned so much from it that I never knew before. In a nutshell (altho its never simple) the Lord is the God of all comfort but we have to be open to receive it. I was hurting so much that I was really open to His comfort and He was there every time I needed His touch. I think its more a matter of trust and relationship with Him than anything else. You need a touch from Him Allison to keep going and when we come to the end of our own strength He is faithfully waiting right there. You are amazing with how you have been dealing with all of this. WE love you and pray for you continually.
Maybe that IS what I need, Nancy! THank you. I love you.
you know Allison i feel the same .. yesterday i just went straight down to the bottom again..i cried myself out..i just let it all out ..the tears, the feelings ..the grief..and some anger ….today i feel stronger again ..sometimes Allison we just need to let go ..let all the feelings out.. we cannot hold them in, because then we become ill too,Paul said the same to me yesterday.. “we need you to be strong..the boys need you”… Allison you cannot become ill .. you are holding the whole family together ..you are everyones rock , and if i can help you in any way , please ,please do ask, after all you are my sister-in-law and Vern is my little brother, together we can be stronger xx
xx love you all lots xx
“Mothering while grieving should involve being understanding and keeping a gentle attitude toward yourself as you work to balance your own needs and your child’s. You become stronger by remaining aware of your own well-being, which in turn makes you a stronger person for your child or children.” ― Elizabeth Berrien,
thanks, Vanessa, I won’t become ill. But my priority is the children. I want Vernon to make it, but I can’t heal him. I wish I could.
LOVE YOU ALLISON .. BIG , BIG HUGS ,WISH I COULD BE WITH YOU ….. XXXXXXXX
Oh Allison, there are no words I can utter to comfort you. My heart hurts for you. Your feelings are raw and so very justified. Sometimes I think it is a form of rest to give yourself some time to just let go, only so you can pick yourself back up again. When I was going through my cancer journey I worked hard to stay positive and strong, but I had my moments. I felt guilty for giving in to being human with my worldly feelings of “I don’t want to do this anymore”. On a difficult night, God met me in my grief and took me to the Garden of Gethsemane where I kneeled beside a grief stricken Jesus who took some time to let go and express His grief, fear, and sadness in prayer. God met me there and I pray He will meet you with His love, guidance and comfort. We continue to pray for miracles. We love you!
I usually read your writings in a group, saving them up for a time when I can sit quietly and absorb your thoughts and feelings as you meet all that you must each day. Tonight, well, it is now way past midnight, your title drew me in and I am choosing to do a single reading. During the 1980’s I returned to college to study gerontology, which was relatively new in education at that time. While many courses focused on the aspect and psychology of aging, sociology and humanities, a strong emphasis was on death and dying. The work of Elizabeth Kubler Ross was predominant in my studies and her philosophy on grief and bereavement were taught in depth. As a Christian, I approached my secular education from a Biblical perspective and came to the false determination that my new academic knowledge and understanding of death, loss, and grief blended with God’s amazing grace would allow me to sail quickly through the inevitable that I would someday face. I was confident the denial and anger steps would be non-existent, acceptance would be immediate and grief would be brief. God Himself would save me from hurt, heartbreak and deep sorrow. Of course, when the time of loss was cast upon my life, (and there are various kinds of losses to endure) I found there were no steps to be skipped, God did not swoop me out of what I must face, and grief is not brief but can be seemingly timeless. When my mom was facing the end of life she continually asked me how long must she keep waiting. I had no pat answer – only that the waiting ends when God says it is so. I waited with her from 2001 until 2013. There were times we did not seem to be waiting at all. Long stretches of optimism and restoration and then the sudden downward turns, new hope and waiting again. Waiting “for what” became the question. It is in God’s waiting room that I found the accepting. It is the place where Ms. Ross’s steps came together for me. Where waiting became active not passive. While waiting can be the hardest place it can also be the freeing place. It is where I learned that strength can be gained from tears, energy gained from quiet, peace restored through prayer, and love encircles all. We know what God has for us…He tells us that in His promises. We know waiting brings renewal. And we know we rise like eagles – there is action in waiting. Grief for me was the recognition of all that I had and what I believe is lost. The great sadness, my dark days, my longing to possess what I have lost. Good grief is letting go of what is not mine to hold on to, that deep love is never lost, that surrendering is better than never having, that sorrow will not destroy but strengthen. Keep your soul well, you know how to do that and God will help you. Sleep, dream, and laugh. Do not be fearful, your God will not let go of your hand, never – even when you may unknowingly loosen yours.
Praying for the Lords touch
This is a very touching and heart felt post. These are the posts that make me think this could be me. or anyone for that matter.
My heart breaks for you, but your strength during this is unreal.
You ARE incredible.
I have been thinking about you lately as I know many times we are on the same frequency (are we not?) Everyone has said the words that I feel inside, we wish we could take the pain away, we wish we could give you hope and we wish that things were so very different for you and Vernon. It sounds like a break is in order, I’m wondering if that can happen for you could you get away if only for a few nights allowing yourself to rest your mind so you can tap into that inner guidance again. The universe, your guides, God … they are all there to give you signs, when you feel like you possibly cant go on that’s usually a good indication that change is coming. I’m sure you will see a sign soon. We can go walk the beach with our cameras if you want too. 🙂 xoxo sending you so much love girl!
That looks like Katherine French walking with flowers.
Allison, it is love that keeps you going. A type of love that is rare. No one can even nearly imagine what you have been enduring. Somewhere in between all the grieving stages of DABDA (denial, anger, blame, depression and acceptance), there will also be a kinda loss of purpose to care for the ‘lost one’. Another of the emotions we endure. If Vernon goes to be with the Lord, there will also be a void in your life. A bigger one than there is at present. I personally don’t know if I could have coped, or how you do, but thankfully there are so many people who pray for you and a God who sustains you. May He continue to do so, for however long it takes. What a special human you are to carry so heavy a cross. I salute you. And I pray for relief, in whatever form that may be. Gwen