Is this what grief feels like?

Back in the day, the book of choice for all pregnant women was What to Expect When You're Expecting. It was considered America's pregnancy bible and I remember reading each chapter dutifully as time progressed so I was ready for the changes ahead.  It makes me wish there was a manual for grief.

Rightly so, that's not possible.  We all grieve differently.  And there are different kinds of grief.  A loss of a child is different than a loss of a parent which is different still than a loss of a spouse.  I know that there is no real right or wrong way to grieve.

So people ask, "How are you doing?" I'm not good, but I'm definitely not bad.  So I answer the only way I know how, "I'm okay."

There is not one perfect word to describe how I feel.  The word numb isn't quite right.  I still laugh and cry so I'm not void of emotion. Yet, I'm not excited about things in general like I used to be.  It dawned on me on Thursday, when a colleague and I were going to introduce to students a project he and I had been meeting about for over a month. He had put in a tremendous amount of work and said when I walked in Thursday morning, "Aren't you excited?" My brain paused.  Wow, I realized I should be excited, but I'm not.  I quickly recovered with a lame excuse and a sigh, "I'm just tired." Inside I'm thinking, "What??? You just finally had a decent night's sleep after a wind-less night. Are you really tired?" Perhaps this kind of numbness is a coping mechanism. I won't let myself get too high because I don't want to get too low either.

I feel like I lack stamina and energy and focus.

Everyday things that seemed to matter before aren't important now because it's just me.  Take grocery shopping for example.  I've never really minded grocery shopping...sometimes I even like it. But last week I found myself wandering around the store...struggling.  It was just a foolish struggle in my mind about my purchases.  Some things were too big, I'd never be able to eat them. Do I start buying single serving frozen dinners? How good are they? How healthy are they? All silliness but I was glad that I didn't see anyone in the store and risk having them ask how I was doing. (If you are curious, I left with (among other things) two frozen dinners and a GALLON of vanilla ice cream.   No, I am not acting out the female stereotype of tearfully eating my way through grief using ice cream.  I'm not even a big fan or plain vanilla ice cream--now chocolate is another story.)

Cooking is another struggle. I used to enjoy spending time on the weekend cooking for the week.  It felt good to have meals ready so when we got home from work, life was simpler.  Kevin was always easy to cook for so preparing home cooked meals gave me a sense of accomplishment. But now, cooking for me, doesn't have the same satisfaction.

Reading back through this, my descriptions are so petty.  I really am okay and things could be so much worse.  I don't stay in bed all day sobbing or depressed. I'm not drinking myself into numbness (although I did fix myself a Bloody Mary for the second half of the Badger game today).  I don't need drugs to keep me going. I'm functioning.

I am also learning about myself.  I always knew I was a procrastinator, and Kevin was not. Unknowingly, he sometimes guilted me into getting things done just by working hard.  I'm sure he never knew. But I certainly couldn't be sitting on the couch like a lump, when there were tons of things to be done, while he was toiling away getting his jobs done.  Now there is no one to subconsciously push me.

And I find I procrastinate such silly things.  Take putting gas in the car as an example.  I've never liked putting gas in the car, and quite honestly, I never even paid much attention to it.  Kevin would say, "How much gas is in your car?" I would stare blankly, "I don't know." It was something Kevin just took care of for me, even though I never asked him to.  Now, when I'm running low on gas, I think, "I'll get it tomorrow" instead of filling up as soon as I notice.  This morning was a prime example. I was going to Winona and knew I was low on gas.  The quick glance at the gas gauge led to the "can I make it to Winona or do I fill up before I leave?" Seriously?? Just put gas in the car. I filled up before I left and immediately thought, "Was that so hard?" (one of Kevin's lines).  No. Just get it done.

So as the weekend draws to a close, I reflect and am thankful:

• For my kids.  When we are together, it feels like a family again, even though an important piece is missing.
• For the four day work weeks I have had lately.  I haven't had to make it "just one more day" to get through the week.
• For Sunday afternoon naps.
• For realizing my struggles are minor and could be so much worse.
• For struggles which allow me to grow if I view them as opportunities.

More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, 

knowing that suffering produces endurance, 

and endurance produces character, 

and character produces hope, 

and hope does not put us to shame, 

because God's love has been poured into our hearts 

through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.

Romans 5:3-5