grief

I started this blog yesterday. It was originally called “So Here It Is Thursday…”. I began by talking about how I felt so ashamed for not reaching my goal of writing on “Notes From the Vicarage” daily since my mother’s passing. I listed my excuses and then laid out four steps I was going to take to correct the issue I have been having with writing.

It was a pretty good blog about how to prioritize writing….or really anything important.

I didn’t get to post that blog because I had a coaching session with my life coach that began just before I could hit publish. Now having had the night to sit and think on it I am glad I didn’t publish it.

I do believe there are habits I need to develop and tweak to become more effective, for sure, but I realized as I was thinking about my writing problem that this is more than a habits issue. It’s a grief issue and an issue of transition.

Life has changed for me in a big way, and I am not intentionally clocking that most days. I was Mom’s primary caregiver for the last decade of her life. Her needs factored into everything I did, including ministering and writing.I didn’t choose it. Caregiving became part of how I identified myself as a human being. It became a part of my fingerprint.

…and now I realize I need to give myself a hot minute to figure out how everything in life works without Mom to consider. Before I didn’t write daily because I was busy helping Mom and ministering. Time was not on my side. Now, as I approach the computer I wonder “What do I have to write about?”

I know it is not true, but it feels like the interesting parts of my life are over. That right there, is the power of sneaky grief. I have seen it in others and now here it is manifesting on the inside of me. It is strange. It doesn’t feel like sadness. It’s not anger. It’s not denial. It’s certainly not acceptance. It feels like….hesitancy. It’s like that moment when I was a little child meeting someone new, and all I could do was hide behind my mother’s skirt and suck my thumb. But this time the person I am meeting is…me!

Life took something of a hard right turn on Monday.

As regular readers will know, Mom started with hospice about three weeks ago. She started sleeping a lot on Saturday and Sunday and eating almost nothing. We also saw an increase in her pain level. Then on Monday she became very nauseous and her pain level spiked beyond control. She started vomitting dark black liquid. The nurse came out to help us, the doctor called and we made some adjustments to her meds. It was an intense 24 hours in which none of us got much sleep.

It seems we have moved very quickly to a new level of hospice. We now have the hospital bed mom had been resisting in house and the old couch she loved sleeping on removed. We have asked for and I think received an upgrade in PCA care to five days a week and today the doctor is coming out to review Mom’s meds to make sure we have what is needed for her comfort.

Dr. Harrington, the director of the hospice agency, is actually one of the doctors Mom worked with during her career as a nurse. She remembered him.

Today she is looking and feeling much better, but in the last few days Mom has eaten nothing more substantial than two or three scoops of ice cream. She seems to have no appetite for solid food. Good news… She has been drinking her Pedia-lyte and rehydrating. She is very weak. Walking to the bathroom is not at the moment a possibility. Thank God for all that has been provided in the way of adaptive tools, the transfer chair and commode my cousin gave us have been a life saver, and the hospice meds have been so helpful in keeping Mom comfortable.

I can’t say enough about the hospice staff who have been helping us through this season. They have all been so kind. I also am also so blessed by family and my congregation. So many in the church have reached out with offers of help. My friend, worship leader and deacon, Jody came to help me and my son, Joe, move the couch yesterday. My family, also, has really circled the wagons during this season. We all gathered and prayed together last night with many tears and much hope that God would see us through this life stage with grace and love.

Regardless of the hard right turn, I know God will see us through and we will end up right where we are supposed to be.

Notes From the Vicarage

A minister's family living in a micro forest garden

THE TRANSITION WITH GRIEF TO THE NEXT IDENTITY

A HARD RIGHT TURN