Lots of different thoughts a swirlin’ here. Shall we see where they lead?
You know, I really am a fundamentally happy, optimistic, hopeful person by nature (especially without the interference of anxiety or depression), even amidst the grief and trauma responses I’ve been working through this past year. I really do love life, even with all of the demands and exhaustion and challenges there have been. Truly, I do. I didn’t understand before how sadness and joy could exist in the same space. I don’t know that I understand it even now, but I recognize that it absolutely can.
This is going to come out sounding wrong, but I’m going to say it anyway: the experience of Kendall dying HAS BEEN GOOD FOR ME. I know, it does sound awful put that way. No, I certainly did not want him to die (especially so young and tragically), would NEVER have chosen that, and I miss him so deeply I can’t fully express it in words. But I am profoundly grateful for the very many ways I have grown and the (hard-fought) lessons I am learning through all of this. The progress I will hopefully continue to make (although there are certainly setbacks as well). And no, I don’t mean that having Kendall here was holding me back at all, nothing like that, but I don’t know that I would have otherwise experienced the same accelerated growth that I can see I have this past year and a half. I can feel that I am…I don’t know, BECOMING something so much more refined, better in so many ways. And I like this version of myself, even if it does make me sad that Kenny doesn’t get to experience this “new and improved” me (at least not in this life).
And in many ways, I have to admit that these circumstances have probably also been good for Kenny, too. I really do feel immense gratitude that he didn’t have to continue to live with so much pain or with significantly impaired cognitive functioning or even his different mental health challenges that were such a burden for him. I know that he is now able to be learning and progressing in ways that he would not have with such a broken body and mind. I am also so, SO thankful that I was the one left behind and not him, that HE did not have to go through this excruciating pain I have in all of this aftermath. Truthfully, his support network in life mostly consisted of me, and I cannot imagine surviving through this experience without the support I have had from my family and friends. (Don’t get me wrong, Kenny of course had people who cared about him, including wonderful family members, but I don’t know that he would have reached out and accepted help in the ways I have.)
Totally switching topics here, but would you like to celebrate a win with me? At least I’m counting it as a win. One thing that has consistently been triggering and grief-inducing for me is attending performances and events for my children. I love them and am so proud of them, but being at those it is always glaringly obvious that Kenny is missing and not there cheering them on and supporting them alongside me.
Up until this week every single time I have come home from anything like that, the evening has always been spent in tears and fielding crushing waves of grief. This has been a particularly busy week, with band and choir concerts, school presentations to attend, etc. And you already know that these past few weeks have been emotionally difficult ones for me. But this time I had extended family members who accompanied us and came to support their cousins or a niece or nephew. I didn’t feel like I was there on my own. Yes, I did tear up a few times (especially when the final song in my daughter’s choir concert was “Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing,” which was sung at Kendall’s funeral).
But overall attending those events this week was a much better experience than previous ones have been (although yes, there was still some sadness that night). I was even able to enjoy visiting and connecting with so many people I ran into afterward (having lived 20+ years in the same town, I really do know a lot of people). I loved it.
