The Reality of Grief

In the beginning of this journey, I read everything I could find on grief. Each book said the same thing. It mentioned the many stages of grief and how it is a process one must go through. There was no hope. No guidance for the future. Reading those books, I could not imagine how I was supposed to live in this grieving process for the rest of my life. If this was how it was supposed to be, then I was going to be done on this earth. I spent my days, in a fog, just waiting to join Catherine one day.  At one point, my grief got so bad that my husband, my doctor, and I all made an agreement that if I got to the point of no return, I would be honest and go willingly into a facility. By September 2018, I was actively looking for an inpatient facility because the pain was so incredibly intense. It was September 11, 2018 that I was informed that my position at Permobil was being eliminated. Oddly enough, it was a good feeling. As I was trying to figure how to live this life of sadness ...

Monday was a really fun day. My partner in crime and I spent the day out and about. Our main goal was to drop instruments off from the middle school at a repair shop in Nashville but there was stuff to get into in that area. After dropping off the instruments, we hit the stores. Our very first stop was Michael's Craft store, because you know we needed more craft stuff. We were walking up and down the aisles when the topic of the high school graduation came up. It is funny to me what can trigger a panic attack or an attack of grief. I've known it was coming and most days I'm okay with it. But for some reason, the grief hit fast and hard in that moment. I started to wander through the store, aimlessly, looking at things to get my mind off of it. Catherine and what would have been her high school graduation was renting a lot of space in my head. I felt the weight of sadness and the change was noticeable. Breathing through it or thinking ahead to the future wasn't working...

When my sister and I were little girls (and even as we got older), we would pour over the American Girl doll catalog. I read every book my library had on the American Girl dolls and my sister loved their accessories. We dreamed of having a room full of these dolls with all their stuff. As we got older, that American Girl doll dream faded to the background. When I had Catherine, I was surprised to find that she wasn't all that into dolls. Until she got to the age of 12 and the AG doll catalog showed up to our house. I had always wanted to get her one but money was tight and it wasn't an option. Over the next 4 years, we would joke about getting our American Girl dolls. Josh and I discussed getting Catherine one the last Christmas she was home before college. That would have been this past Christmas. At almost 18 years old, she would have treasured that doll. But the best laid plans..... So last Christmas I asked my sister if Josh and I could purchase an American Girl doll...

When Catherine died, I wept to my dear friend about all the things I was going to miss due to her death. Prom, concerts, marching band, senior pictures, graduation, and a million other things. She graciously offered to share her daughter, my daughter's best friend, for some of those events. And she did. This school year, their senior year, I've been to band concerts and band competitions. I've carried on the sticker tradition, bringing Julia a sticker from places we go, just like Catherine would. We've done birthdays and Thanksgiving. In turn, Julia (and so many of Catherine's other friends) have stepped up in so many ways. Whether it be a comforting hug, playing the role of big sister to my boys, including me in school gossip, or sharing stories about Catherine, these kids have brought so much love and comfort to our lives as we grieve the tremendous and profound loss of our daughter. So when Julia's mother handed me a framed photo and envelope the other day,...

Ram Dass once said "The quieter you become, the more you can hear." Be still and listen. It is something that I took to heart and started doing after Charlie was born. Any decision or stressful thing in my life, I would just be still and listen. I've always come up with the answer. Sometimes my own will overpowers my mantra and I struggle and stress about the answer. Once I let it go, the answer always comes.  I've done it a lot since Catherine died. In the beginning, the idea of cleaning out her room seemed unbearable. People suggested I turn her room into my own craft room. I was opposed to both ideas. As far as I was concerned, I was never cleaning out her room and I wasn't ever going to craft again.  Over time, I did start to craft again. But I was still opposed to touching her room or even moving in there. It seemed like the worst idea and that I was a traitor of some sort. I didn't want to benefit in any way from her death. Until one day I just d...

Last week wasn't a good week. Not sure if it was the weather being so cold and grey or if my thoughts and memories got away from me. But it was rough. Last Thursday was Senior night for Lebanon High at the football game. We knew it was coming. But seeing all the photos of Catherine's friends on Facebook, being walked down the football field by their parents, was just a bit much. So I cried. And I moped around. And then dear friend called and I let it all go. I told her that we are stuck in this time warp where everyone is moving forward and we are just stuck and I cried. No senior night, no prom, no senior photos, no graduation. It all just goes by, and we KNOW that we are supposed to be there but we aren't because Catherine is gone. To be honest, I'm really dreading graduation in May. That was the finish line that Catherine and I set. It was the moment that we got to prove that we did it. We grew up together, she was graduating high school, and I proved everyone wron...

A few weeks ago, my mother helped me get my house in order. We systematically went through each room in the house and de-cluttered, dusted, organized, and made the house look like people live there. As we were going through my sewing stuff, my mother kept finding unfinished projects. Pretty soon the pile got to be pretty big and I counted 9 sewing projects that I started but didn't finish. Later that night I was telling Josh about it and how I couldn't believe I had that many unfinished projects. I mentioned that the depression must have gotten fairly bad and then we had a conversation that looked like this: Josh: Babe, that wasn't your depression that kept you from doing those projects, it was your ADD. Me: My what?? Josh: Your ADD. You have ADD, right? Me: Um, what? I don't have ADD. Josh: Yes, you do. Didn't you know? Me: No, I didn't know because I don't have ADD. Josh: Yes, you do. I never looked at it as a flaw, I just thought it was a part of ...