I was having an awesome day. Somehow (still not quite sure how), I was able to sleep in really late. Anyone who knows me is well aware that sleeping is one of my favorite things to do, but motherhood put a total end to that! I also work at night now, so I usually get somewhere between 4-6 hours normally. After having a leisurely breakfast and joking and playing with my husband and kids, we went to the playground as a family and played together. It was really fun because I normally don't do that - I watch but normally don't participate. We split up briefly so I could make a quick appointment and my husband planned to take my son to get dressed for Tae Kwon Do. I was supposed to meet them there half an hour later. Five minutes after we separated, I got one of the worse phone calls I've ever gotten; his mother had stopped breathing and was being rushed to the hospital.
My first thought was "Oh no!", but then I decided not to panic. She had been ill and was on dialysis and carried an oxygen tank with her, but she was a tough cookie. She was on her way to the hospital, so I was sure they would take care of her and she'd be fine. I went to my appointment and then went to the hospital to meet my family. I'd planned to tease her and fuss with her because she liked that. She had a stubborn streak and was fiercely independent and she loved it when I gave her a hard time. That was our thing- I would argue with her about letting me help her and she would complain, but let me do it anyway. But when I made it to the hospital, she wasn't there.
I don't ever recall seeing her look so peaceful in the nine years that I knew her. She was really beautiful. Her children and sister were completely devastated and visibly in shock, and I was so sad for my husband and worried about my children. As a planner, I immediately started making "To Do Lists" in my head of who to call and what to do (planning makes one feel like you have control, especially in situations where you have none). And then I looked down the hall at the children. Initially my son was crying hysterically, but now he and his sister and their little cousin were playing and laughing hysterically. Apparently free snacks and a team nurses doting on you and telling you how absolutely adorable you are helps you forget your troubles ;).
As I watched those kids, I was amazed at God. Oh, to have the resilience of children. I took the kids away and went out for pizza as a distraction-probably more for me than them. They had a ball. They talked about their grandmother and what happened, but it was very matter of fact and practical. They talked about missing her and loving her and being happy that she was in heaven. Then they played some more. Very loudly and full of life. Occasionally they would ask me a question like who was going to live in her apartment now, or why she wasn't wearing her glasses anymore, but mostly they played and laughed like happy children.
Later that night, I did have to deal with more tears and questions, but overall, my children are handling the loss of their grandmother way better than any of the adults. This experience has brought me right back in the face of grief, a journey that I took three and half years ago and I did not do it well- not by a long shot. When my father died, I went to a very dark, depressed place and stayed there. I was fine with that. Ironically, God used my kids as my only motivating factor to even try to come out of it, and even that was hard. I prayed to him constantly because it hurt so bad and the one thing that always came to my mind and heart was my kids.
It's been two days and I am beginning to experience my loss now. I've been so busy fretting over my husband and kids and their well being, I hadn't really had a chance to deal with my feelings yet. This is so hard because it brings so many things to the forefront of my mind from remembering the loss of my dad; to experiencing the loss of my mother-in-law from the point of view of my husband, my children and myself; and also realizing that one day, it will very likely be my turn with my own mother. And being an only child with only one parent left- that is a terrifying thought.
But then there are the children. I remember the resilience and the joy of children, and I get my perspective back.
The purpose of life it to live it and it well. You don't know how long you have, but we all know one day it is guaranteed to end. I want to embrace this chance that I've been given because I won't get a do-over. There are six months that I literally do not remember after my father died- six whole months of my life, my kids life, that I cannot retrieve. I can't do that again. Fortunately, this time I have a stronger spiritual life and I have a great circle of support around me and my family. I cannot tell you the immeasurable comfort you feel from the prayers of others surrounding you- it is truly amazing.
Realistically, I know this going to be tough on everyone. I'm not expecting rainbows and butterflies. I know my kids are going to need extra support and I've made arrangements for that. I've also made arrangements for my husband and myself as well. There is nothing more dangerous in a crisis than a counselor that lives to plan! I immediately contacted all my friends that work in mental health for resources and names of potential antidepressants that will work with our current medications...just in case we need them. But ultimately, we have to approach this grieving process by literally casting our burdens upon Him. It's easy to say, but harder to do. It seems like we are just wired to try to do it alone first, and go to God as a last resort. My earnest prayer is to be able to do this and grow from it and really be an example to others about the power of God to heal and comfort in times of sadness and loss. In the end, that's really what matters most to me- making sure that he receives the glory and honor that he deserves through me.
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