Estate Planning and Trauma Triggers

I am terrible about sending Christmas cards to friends and family. I think I have maybe managed to send them out a whopping two or three times since being married. With my blogging now I do feel like the people who matter the most to us are generally kept in the loop about what’s been happening with our family throughout the year (although I don’t talk a lot about the specifics of what the kids are involved in and doing, except in the “family updates” that get emailed out to my dad, siblings, and grandparents each week). I know that’s a cop-out, though. I actually did have every intention of sending out Christmas cards last year, was even planning to include Kenny photoshopped in as a sort of “Jedi ghost” in the background (he would have found that hilarious). But I hadn’t counted on how much all-consuming effort it would take for me to simply be surviving and trying to navigate so many trauma triggers that each day seemed to bring. And this year I am just allowing us to have a simple Christmas, am not pressuring myself to do a lot of the “extras” I used to include and do (especially the ones that involved my mom, at least not this first year without her).

I’ve learned to be able to tell the difference between grief triggers and trauma triggers (although some things involve both). And I am much better at recognizing, allowing, and riding through instead of being hijacked by both types. My trauma triggers really are much less frequent this year compared to last. Exponentially so. But they do still happen occasionally, for both me and the kids (and I am feeling somewhat apprehensive about what there may be coming between January 21 and March 24 next year).

I had an appointment with a lawyer this afternoon, where I signed and finalized things with creating my trust. Feels good to have that done, to have the assurance that if anything were to happen to me everything with my assets, my will, etc. are all in order (thanks, Dad, for helping me make that happen). I was blindsided by how triggering it was for me, though. When we got to the part about setting up my medical power of attorney, and recording my wishes for prolonging life and what measures I would want, or not want, done…well, I lost it, guys. Couldn’t stop those tears from running down my face.

All that Kendall’s medical directive had said was to have his wife decide what she felt was best depending on the circumstances. Which meant that day after day I needed to make decisions anew on what type of resuscitation or life support measures the doctors should take as they went over in graphic detail what each item entailed. Because with Kendall’s condition changing so drastically each day, the implications of what those attempts would mean kept changing as well. I know far more than I ever wanted to about the types of brain damage CPR can cause, the excruciating pain it would have involved for my husband with how damaged his body already was, the anticipated broken bones, internal bleeding or even blood coming out of nearly every orifice (although I ended up witnessing each of those things happen anyway for different reasons). All with zero input from Kenny.

So today, it felt paralyzing needing to check off and initial boxes that could possibly mean putting that sort of burden on someone else in my behalf, forcing them to make decisions that they knew could cause someone they love great pain. And talking about it all brought up those feelings of terror and helplessness and just overwhelming alone-ness I felt needing to make those decisions there in a hospital, completely on my own. Again and again and again, as I was silently offering desperate prayers that I would be able to get things “right.” But no one should ever be forced to choose the exact time to take her husband off of life support and end his life. Or just how much brain damage was “OK” with different life-saving medications administered to upwards of and even past dangerous levels. Or, or, or…you get the idea.

In all of this, however, there continue to be clear indications of just how far I have come in the past two years. Because while yes, today did bring up some hard emotions and reactions for me, I was able to process through them. I’m proud of how I handled it, and it didn’t derail my entire day. Or what about the fact that today I was finally able to pick up and start reading “Rhythm of War” by Brandon Sanderson? That one does feel like a big win and evidence of definite healing. I’ve only been able to do a bit at a time, and it will likely take me a while to finish, but progress! (Although I’m realizing I need a serious review of the Cosmere here, plus a recapping of everything that happened in the first 550 pages so I don’t need to start again at the beginning – any volunteers to help bring me up to speed?)

I’ve had many kind people reach out and ask about how I am doing this holiday season. The answer is, while there are hard grief-y moments for sure, overall I can tell that I am in a good place. I am feeling the peace of the season. The Christmas decorations (or at least, enough of them) are up. Not guilting myself for the Christmas cards that won’t get sent, or the neighbor gifts that likely won’t all come together by Christmas (although they will go out eventually!). We’ve been better able to focus on the Savior, the real reason for the season, than we have been able to for the past few years. We’re doing much more than only surviving. I’m embracing all that this season brings, and I am continuing to thrive amidst grief. Merry Christmas!