Grief

Grief is not linear. That is a statement we hear over and over again on these blogs, and it is so true. It is very easy to bounce around in the various stages of grief even years after the event. Sometimes the grief seems to fade, only to swoop back in and draw you under out of nowhere.

I had been thinking about my dad a lot this summer. Triggered I think by the stressful situation we are going through, wishing he were still here because then I wouldn’t feel so stressed and worried. When he was around I always felt safe and never worried, because I knew he would make sure I was taken care of. There are so many ways grief hits you, but I couldn’t help but think of all the things that wouldn’t have happened if my dad hadn’t died. This situation we are in now would never have happened because the events that lead up to it would never have happened. It’s the butterfly effect on a grand scale. I had been feeling all those grief feelings for a while and it was all leading up to something. The universe was putting things in play.

The day after I retuned from vacation I got a message that my sister’s Dad had gotten suddenly ill. He had been unwell for a while but the latest news had been positive, but he had taken a turn. My sister is the closet person in the world to me. Although she is 9 years older, she has always been my person, and I hers. We have been through every major life event together. She gave me tough love when I needed it, and I tried to help her have some grit. There aren’t many flights to where she lives and it’s an all day drive. I had a shift on Sunday and I was about to get coverage when he seemed to get better so I was told to wait. My daughter and I had been fruit picking all day and ended up with heat exhaustion so I was down and out for a couple hours. By the time things took a turn for the worse it was late into the night and no way for me to get there quickly and I also had to work my shift, but I kept in contact with everyone there so I was up all night with them. My heart just broke as my sister had to help make those final decisions for his care (Please Everyone have an advanced directive. It is SO important.) He passed away the next morning.

In between this time I felt like I knew what was happening so I told my husband we needed to make a plan because I had a feeling I was going to need to leave to go to her. Coming back from vacation I was afraid there was going to be an issue, but he told me to just go to her, he would handle things. He may not have known how to be there for me when my own father passed away, but he has learned enough about me to understand my need to be there for those certain people in my life and didn’t even question anything. One thing my father’s death did for me was gain so much empathy. I got that from him.

The day before I told my mom I thought she should leave to go and we got in a fight about it because she didn’t feel it was her place to be there (citing a divorce that happened the better part of  a half a century ago) and I argued that we needed to be there for my sister, that was all that mattered. My heart was already breaking for her because I know what that feels like. I also did a great deal of comforting my niece. She’s 25 but has never seen anyone sick that way and hooked up to all the monitors and didn’t understand things that were happening, all the while trying to stay strong for her mom and her younger siblings.

That was always my role every since I am remember...being the strong one, being the rock. When my sister’s Nana was sick I was pretty young. I remember going with my sister to visit her and holding her hand when my sister felt to sad or scared to. When my uncle was battling leukemia when I was in high school I was there through all of it, holing up my mom and my grandmother. When my own grandmother was ill, I was there translating medical terminology to everyone else, while I was still in high school, holding my grandmother for tests and helping in ways that were way beyond my years. When both grandparents passed away I held up my mom and my younger cousins. Even when my dad was sick, my own grief was tempered by the role I had to play in being the rock for my mom. In quiet corners my sister held me up so I could have some wherewithal to get my mom through it. And now with this, I held up my nieces and nephews and sister, all while feeling these huge waves of grief for the loss I knew and was now watching someone I loved deeply feel. I didn’t have any words other than “I am so sorry.” But I guess that is the truest life lesson...love hard and show up for the people you love when they need you. Just be there. I was sad for my sister and her family, but also for myself. For the dad I had lost and for the man that helped raised my sister who always treated me like family and never made me feel like I was only a “half”.

My grown nephew found me when when I first got there. We stopped to get groceries for the house after my niece picked me up from the airport, and my nephew found us in the middle of Aldi. He grabbed me in a big hug and cried on my shoulder  thanking me for coming and saying he was so glad I was there. I don’t think he had been able to show his grief until I was there to let him. So we stood embracing and crying in the middle of the store because that is life sometimes.

I learned so many things on this trip. I learned things about why my mom is the way she is, and the secrets she kept to protect my sister. I now hold the secrets because I guess sometimes things pile up on you and after so many years you have to let them go somewhere. I learned none of us have recovered from my father’s death, just some show it in quiet ways, like my brother in law who still sits in my dad’s old car from time to time because it smells like him. I learned that sacrifices we make for our children sometimes slowly kill us. I learned more about who my mom is deep down. I think I might have also earned a deeper respect from my mom who has treated me differently since she saw me drop everything and come take over and take care of everyone and everything, and how much my sister needed that.  She raised us all to never be ones to ask for help and be needy, but she also raised us to love so fiercely and protectively.

I sat with my sister on the deck of her Dad’s house stroking her hair and just letting her talk and cry. I didn’t have to say anything to her because we know the grief we both sit in. For a while now every time I would miss my dad I would text her and tell her to give her dad a hug for me. The universe sets us up in the strangest of ways. My grief allowed her to be more loving in her father’s last months.

Vacation

so we’re on vacation this week. Well, as much of a vacation as it can be when you quite literally pack your entire house into 2 vehicles, drive about 3 hours away to the beach, unpack and do all the same stuff there for 7 days. I joke, but it’s true. It’s not exactly the relaxing sort of vacation one really needs, but a vacation it is and we are so fortunate to be able to do this every year.

I do have to say that vacations with a large family feel sort of like a Chevy Chase vacation. Everything feels sort of chaotic and such a mess and a cluster just trying to do anything at all, all together and timely. No one magically behaves or gets along just because we happen to be on vacation. It’s a comedy of errors, for sure.

We have certain things we do every year that are tradition: feeding the fish in the huge pond in the golf course just outside our door, feeding the squirrels that are super friendly and hang out on our deck, feeding the local family of ducks, visiting the craft fair that is the first Saturday in August and always falls on our weeek down here, of course the beach and the boardwalk, and the rides at the end of the boardwalk.

Oh, the rides. This is one part of vacation that I really hate. The boardwalk rides have been there forever. There is a huge semi-enclosed space of all the kiddie rides, and it is loud, and hot, and feels very germy and dirty to me. We started going many years ago, and the kids love it,  but it’s al just too much for me. I hate being hot. I hate being in that kind of a crowd. I hate leaving feeling way over-stimulated. I used to love amusement parks, but now I can’t even tolerate a merry-go-round. Thankfully, my husband has some weird attachment to the rides at the end of the boardwalk and decided a couple years ago that I didn’t have to go with them anymore. I don’t even feel bad about it, because I literally do every other thing they ever want to do, but it’s my vacation too. And lest anyone thing I get off easy, it just means I’m available to cook dinner so it’s ready when everyone else gets back home!