I am in the swing of the fall semester and my hands, or book bag, is very full. After all, this is what this blog is supposed to be about, but if you've been reading, you know my life has been over flowing with, well...stuff.
Since June 24th, practically every single person I know has been going through the grieving process. I have been grieving. I've grieved the death of loved ones before, but if you've lost a parent, you know how it's different. Especially my dad. I always joked that he was "a pain in the butt," but the impact of his finishing this life and going home is felt everywhere I turn. The grieving is prolonged.
I feel...raw.
Last Spring I sliced off my finger tip. My dad was there after the fact-he just shook his head and, with a little grin on his face, he wrapped my up my finger. He joked that it would be at least 8 months before my finger completely healed. At the doctor's office the next day, the nurse unwrapped the bandage and I almost fainted from the excruciating pain surging through the exposed nerve endings on my finger. It was raw and painful for a long time. I had to keep a padded bandage on it for two weeks. Even now, because the nerves are still healing, it feels like a sharp needle going through my finger if I'm not careful and bump my finger. You can see the dent on my finger, and although it looks healed, it isn't.
I am learning that grieving is the same. I look fine, even feel good most of the time, but sometimes I'm not, and I have to accept that process, because it's not just going away. I am learning that this is going to be a long healing process. In this healing, the grieving will get better, but there will be times when I have a bump and it will twinge my heart. I need to accept that, even embrace it.
I have two more points that I want to share with you:
1) A friend was telling me about friends of hers who are dealing with a terminal illness in the family and she had been wanting to write to them, but was in pain as to what to say. What could she say?
Normally, it would be very easy to relay my personal experiences and help my friend. I would have told her that in my grieving I have loved and appreciated every single person who has said "I'm sorry for your loss," "he will be missed," or "my condolences." But in all of this comforting there were quite a few that stood out. The ones that didn't really say anything. One was a pastor's wife who just came up to me, put her arms around me and with tears in her eyes said, "I don't know what to say." We hugged for a number of minutes. That same day, another friend from church, a young man, walked up, stood next to me and just put his arm around me. For a few minutes he didn't say anything, just hugged me. Finally he said 2 things: "How are you?" and "I'm praying for you." I could go on, but my point is: Don't worry about what to say, just go with it from the heart.
2) Unfortunately, I couldn't tell my friend. I choked. I felt myself wanting to help and comfort my friend, but aching inside as well. Those grieving nerves were reminding me that they were still there. Fortunately the other friend that was sitting with us at the time picked up on it and comforted me-that just blew me away! I am learning that I need to pace myself. That I can let others take on the load that I usually carry. Yes, I need to keep going, keep living, but I don't have to overburden myself either.
Because of this, I have decided to go from taking 5 classes this semester to just 4-just 12 units. I hate admitting defeat, but all summer I was overwhelmed with grief and 10 weeks of summer school. That overwhelming feeling gets exhausting! It's not a matter of whether or not I can do it, but whether or not I will do well. I need time to breath, and thinking about my 27 books, 10 page term paper and 3 other essays due this week won't help.
I am still raw.
I need to let the padded bandage of time, my friends, family and life help me continue to heal.
