Unexpected Emotions

July 9, 2010

Susie and Russ are in Vermont on a trip with the Jennie Phillips choir.  They have been part of the choir for 4 or 5 years.  It's a great opportunity for them to visit some church history spots and they will be going to the Hill Cumorrah Pageant while there.  This puts Gracee and I together again for five days.  Susie organized some helpers for me this time, because I told her it would be better for me if I could have some breaks.  Each day a friend or family member takes her for a few hours.  Today it was Russ's sister Jennifer.  I decided to run some errands during the time she was at Jen's. 

Everything was going fine.  In fact, when Susie had called me today I told her I was doing well and I thought I was "numb" today, because no major emotions were going on.  Then, as I drove up at the Winco parking lot, a wave of sadness and grief took over suddenly and unexpectedly.  I began to sob and for a few minutes could do nothing but cry.  As I tried to figure out what happened, I decided it was because Morin and I always went shopping together.  Today was actually the first time I went shopping by myself since he died.  Usually I have Gracee or both Susie and Gracee with me.  I shopped for many years solo, but after shopping with Morin for a few months being alone feels strange and sad. 

July 11, 2010
Today Gracee and I were invited to my son Star's home for dinner.  After dinner, Stef (his wife, my wonderful daughter-in-law) sat down beside me and we had a nice long talk about grief.  She is no stranger to it herself.  Probably her most painful encounter with grief was eight years ago when she gave birth to Louisa Grace Hall.  She lived only a couple of hours. 

At the time, I did what is commonly done:  I didn't reach out much because I didn't know what to say.  Now that I am tasting of the bitter cup of grief, I wish I could turn back the clock and reach out to her with the same love and understanding she has offered me.  Since that is not possible, I hope that in the future I will not miss an opportunity to help others in any way I can.

Stef describes grief (even after 8 years) as bubbles that just sort of float around us, waiting to be popped.  When one pops it feels as though you are drowning.  That is a great analogy of what I felt the other day as I drove up at Winco.  I still experience small 'bubble pops' regularly - every day several times.  I have mercifully not had a crying spell that wouldn't stop in a week or so, but those large and small bubbles are pretty thick around me, just waiting to pop with no warning.

Grief is such an individual process.  No two people will experience it quite the same, nor will they react to it alike, and yet everyone that goes through loss and grief will come out of it changed forever.  In the books I have been reading by Joyce and Dennis Ashton there are a couple of quotes that give me reason to hope for better times.

1. "Our struggles and experiences become part of us and forever change how we look at the world and ourselves.  We will likely never be the same again; however, we can find joy, meaning and a "new normal" as we do our grief work."
2. "Most of us can and will adapt to loss and life's challenges as we discover our "new normal."  Our spirits can come to the realization that we will find lasting peace and that "joy cometh in the morning"(Psalm 30:5)."

Meanwhile, life goes on around me as if nothing has happened to change the world.  Snow falls (as it did here on May 24), flowers bloom, babies are born and grow into delightful little people, the sun comes up every day and the moon and stars at night.  All of these things delight me, yet the next minute a bubble can still pop..........

Orem, UT May 24, 2010

Flowers in Susie's Front Yard

Full Moon from my front yard in Gilbert, March 2010

Sandy Holding her new Granddaughter - Joselyn March 2010

Gracee playing with Me in the basement while Susie and Russ were in Vermont.  She loves posing for pictures.