I attended my first Widow/Widower conference last Friday and Saturday (I was unable to attend on the first day, Thursday, but definitely plan to go for the whole thing next time). With this also being Mother’s Day weekend, I have gone through such a gambit of emotions the past few days. I loved meeting new people and making new friends, being around others who “get it” in a way that most of my family and friends simply can’t. The classes were wonderful and I found answers to some very specific questions and challenges I had. I also made a point throughout the conference to look for people who were alone or seemed a bit lost, particularly people who also had a “newbie dot” on their badges like I did indicating this was their first conference as well, and then introduce myself and try to invite and include them. That really provided me with a sense of purpose, and helped me to not feel too lonely or out of place myself.
But I was also surprised at how emotionally draining attending the conference was for me. I mean, being an extrovert, aren’t I supposed to be “charged” by being with other people? And I was in many ways, no question. It did take a lot out of me, though, hearing so many heartbreaking stories of loss and tragedy, telling the rudimentary facts of “my story” over and over, discussing so many hard things. Being able to relate to others’ feelings of pain and grief in ways I couldn’t before, I feel compassion and that sense of “mourning with those that mourn” much more acutely than I used to. I’ve also noticed that it can sometimes trigger my own feelings of loss. Then on top of that, I wasn’t expecting attending that conference to make me miss Kenny even more. (Again, Mother’s Day was probably a factor with all of that, too, as well as the fact that the conference was up in Salt Lake right next to Huntsman Cancer Center.)
So I’m feeling a little fragile today. Mother’s Day was hard. And sweet. And emotional, especially when my son was set apart for a calling in his Deacon’s quorum. I find that things like that, when it is so painfully obvious that Kenny isn’t there in that circle assisting like he should be, always bring on the tears (which yesterday felt just under the surface all day anyway). So yes, other than the anniversary of Kenny’s death and our wedding anniversary, for the second time Mother’s Day did indeed feel like one of the “hardest” holidays for me (even more so than Christmas). But with the grief I also felt a lot of love, as well as gratitude. For my own mother and numerous other women who have been such positive influences in my life, for the amazing children who made me a mother (and who really went out of their way yesterday to make me feel loved and appreciated), even for how far I can see that I have come in my own mothering journey over the past 16 years.
I have gotten so much better at paying attention to what I am feeling, figuring out when I need to give myself space or lean in to the grief and not fight those tears. I check in with myself much more frequently than I used to, and simply allow things to feel hard or emotional when they need to. Or at least I’m trying to do so. I remind myself during times like this when I am feeling wrung out, that these feelings don’t last. I know I will feel light and energized and will regain that “wanting to hug the whole world” feeling. But for today it’s OK to still feel teary and sad, intermixed with feeling hopeful and determined and grateful and all the things.
(Picture: No, it’s not Where’s Waldo, it’s a rousing game of Where’s Suzanne?! Can you find me? Promise I’m there!)
