In a recent therapy session my counselor pointed out that, “Suzanne, you have at least three or four full-time jobs right now.” And it’s true. I have always been involved in many things (probably taking on more than I should far too often), but nothing in my life has compared to the unreal amount of demands there are on my time now. It is physically impossible for one person to do all of the things that are now asked of me.
Sure, there is my actual full-time job as a speech-language pathologist, and the fact that I grew my private practice to be a full-time business within a very short period of time (all while mourning). I have been doing 72 therapy sessions a week (I know many private practice owners who consider 30-50 sessions to be “full-time”). I treat a large variety of disorders, and those sessions are back-to-back, so the amount of brain power and focus that can require is enormous (and all with “widow brain”). Work that around all of my construction and flooding and other upheavals, and it’s been a lot.
And no one would question that motherhood is a full-time job. Being a solo parent is intense, and needing to relearn how to do things like shop for groceries, prepare meals, maintain a household, keep on top of school and the many therapy sessions and extracurricular activities that four active children are involved in (and not having any other drivers in the house), not to mention helping my children deal with their own grief and trauma and fears…yeah, no question it’s been a lot.
I won’t delve into it too much, but doing my own trauma work has been seemingly all-consuming at times. Then there is trying to stay on top of self-care and dealing with chronic pain and my own medical conditions, realizing how catastrophic it would be if I burned out or pushed myself too far, and trying to play catch-up with doctor’s visits that were neglected during Kendall’s illness….Not to mention the legal matters and keeping on top of medical bills and new diagnoses and dietary restrictions and illnesses to navigate…yep, a lot. (Oh yeah, and all during a pandemic….)
But I think the one that has surprised me the most is that GRIEF IS A FULL-TIME JOB. (I have my therapist to back me up on this one.) Grief is different than trauma work. It’s not something that I can put on a schedule or go according to my own timetable. It is ALWAYS there. Grief isn’t something that I can think my way through, I have to FEEL my way through it. And that is often uncomfortable and painful. We hear about those “five stages of grief” (you know them: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance), but did you know that those were created based on research about people with terminal illnesses, not what happens to their loved ones who are left behind? I’m finding that grief is so much more complicated and not something that I could ever have prepared for, it just has to be experienced. It’s something I have to deal with every day, because if I don’t, then I find that I simply can’t function. I can see I’m making progress, but it is still a full-time job.
I am coming up on the one year “deathiversary” in March, which will bring this year of “firsts” to a close. But I don’t think that there will be anything magic about reaching day 366. If anything, I’m bracing myself for what is likely coming. Research shows that the second year after a loss is harder than the first, as the numbness (and hopefully brain fog) wears off, not to mention a lot of the help typically drops off, or the “passes” people tend to give you that first year for different things. So yes, I am working hard to fully and intentionally embrace where I’m at, the many roles and responsibilities I now shoulder.
Yet, is there any question that the Lord loves widows? That He recognizes the challenges, the burdens, the “impossible-ness” of life now? As President Nelson has reminded us, “the Lord loves effort.” And widowhood involves so. much. constant. effort. (Not diminishing the challenges associated with other life circumstances, but as this is my experience it is all I can knowledgeably comment on.)
I had the opportunity to virtually attend an LDS Widow/Widower conference last weekend, and one of the speakers talked about being an answer to others’ prayers. Of course I want to be in tune and recognize the prompting to contact that friend at just the right moment, or be able to provide a meal if it was needed (well, I used to be able to do that – now it’s a struggle just to keep my own family fed).
It goes a lot farther than that, though. I KNOW that there have been many people who have been praying for me, for my family, and to know how they might be able to help us. So wouldn’t I in one sense BE an answer to prayer if I allowed them to actually do so, didn’t merely say the laughable, “Oh, we’re fine!” when people asked? Because sure, we’re getting by. I’m doing the things that have to be done, albeit not up to the standards I used to have. But is running myself ragged, past the point of exhaustion, leaving any energy for the things that matter MOST? I know it’s not.
I haven’t meant for this to be a “woe is me” type of post. I HAVE had help, both divine and from living angels around me. But I also realize that after the past year and a half I have an almost morbid fear of being a “burden” on anyone. I have been so fiercely determined to be self-reliant, to prove that I can take care of this family and heal and move forward and “do all the things.” I am nothing if not a determined, hard worker. Just a very tired one.
Don’t worry, I’m not slumping into any sort of depression. I am still fundamentally happy and hopeful. Of course there is a learning curve to all of this, and I do fully believe and expect that there will come a time when grief is no longer a FULL-time job in my life. One thing that has been helping me a lot is I have started writing weekly letters to Kenny (I typically write some each day, and then close the letter at the end of the week), inspired by reading the letters we wrote one another while he was on his mission. Writing has proven to be so therapeutic for me. Clearly! More than 130 Meal Train posts make that pretty evident. What a journey this has all been.