As promised, August is shaping up to be a really hard (and heavy, and extremely emotional) month. I could feel things steadily building for weeks and sure enough a dread and overall weight settled in as the month started. (On the suggestion of some friends I’m having a T-shirt made that says “I Survived August.” Anyone want to party with me on September 1st?)
Yes, I made it through my 20th anniversary on Tuesday. I’ve had several people send me messages saying they were thinking about me, wondering how the day went, or speculating that it must have been hard. Thank you. And you can see in this picture the beautiful flowers I have been gifted (including a platinum dipped rose – !!!!! – from my parents since the “gift” for the 20th anniversary is platinum). I am constantly amazed and humbled by how many wonderful people I am blessed to know and have in my life. It really does make such a difference when others acknowledge difficult moments, to feel remembered and validated, so thank you.
A wise friend who is a bit further along on this grief journey gave me some advice a few weeks ago concerning anniversaries and celebrating dates and occasions of importance after a loved one has passed. She recommended not having any rigid ideas or preconceived expectations about what the day(s) HAD to look like. I took that to heart and decided I would be open to whatever felt right when August 10th rolled around.
I did make some “preparations” of sorts, though. I cleared my work schedule and all obligations and appointments for Tuesday. My sister kindly took my kids from Monday evening until Wednesday. Two of my dear friends from high school (who also knew and loved Kenny) made plans to come over mid-day to be with me and stay as long as I wanted, and they were open to whatever I needed that day to be – distractions? pampering? reminiscing? They had me covered.
Turns out what I really needed was some wallowing, and just letting myself fully experience the longing, sadness, missing, and profound pain that the day naturally brought. While I am technically “alone” each evening after my children are in bed, I know they are aware of me and can hear me if I am loud in my grieving. I don’t want to frighten them. Knowing that I would finally be alone for parts of this anniversary, I had subconsciously compartmentalized a lot of my grief, giving myself mental permission to wait to fully give in to some of those strong emotions and really “let go” until that day. So my anniversary included all ends of the spectrum, from uncontrollable sobbing on the floor of the bathroom until I was actually vomiting over and over from the seemingly unbearable pain, to laughing and talking with friends. I was so grateful they were there. But I also needed some alone time to really process and deeply grieve. To be sentimental. To just let myself remember and dwell on (marinate in?) the memories. (I may also have played and cried to the song “My Immortal” by Evanescence on repeat a ridiculous number of times….)
Would that be the right approach for everyone who has experienced a deep loss? Of course not. There’s no right or wrong in all of this. But for me, while I’m certainly drained from this week, I also feel cleansed in a way. Some things don’t feel quite as heavy. The sadness is still there, but not the unbearableness of it or sense of hopelessness. And while the tears and the sadness have remained very close to the surface, the pain doesn’t feel like it’s going to completely consume me.
I’ve also been thinking a lot lately about how we as humans tend to compare ourselves and our experiences and reactions to those of others. It’s something I’ve heard so often over the past year, people will downplay or apologize to me for admitting things in their lives that they think shouldn’t feel difficult because “they aren’t anything like what you’ve had to deal with.” Frankly, I think that’s utter nonsense. Our personal struggles and challenges have nothing to do with the actual circumstances we may be going through, but how difficult they FEEL to us. If we’re at our limit, or completely overwhelmed with what we’re dealing with, it doesn’t matter exactly what the outward circumstances are. Really, it doesn’t. There’s no standard of what “should” be hard or not. I know my capacity to handle things ebbs and flows depending on so many different factors. I’m not judging what your experience may be. If potty training your toddler, or dealing with difficult in-laws, or feeling overscheduled, or whatever it is feels hard for you, don’t apologize for that! I certainly know what it’s like to feel stressed, to be exhausted, or just plain overwhelmed with life. I also know that those feelings don’t last, and there is always hope and opportunity for growth amidst the hard. So please let me be a friend and support you if you’re going through something difficult. Give me the privilege of being that friend who can just be there for you during your hard moments. We can be human together.