A Zookeeper of Introverts

Today would have been your 33rd trip around the sun. I’m not going to lie; I’m sad you aren’t here. I’m sorry that you are missing all the things. Part of the process of the completion of our relationship with Grief Recovery is talking through our hopes, dreams, and expectations, and I’m grateful to have processed those things. Still, those feelings can surface on days like today, and I must face the grief of you not being here. I’ve learned a lot over the last two years, and I often feel like a broken record when sharing about Grief Recovery. I share because I know of loss, and everyone is walking out their losses individually. I can listen and be a heart with ears. I’m also grateful to have processed such a painful loss as Evan’s death. Pain does not equal love. Carrying painful feelings is not how love carries on. Sweet memories and funny stories, along with the love of family and friends, being truthful about what hurts, and not running away from painful feelings by doing things that help me not feel them. (overeating, drinking, shopping, and isolation) I’ve done that too long, which is part of the problem. So, at this moment, I am heartbroken, and I miss you. There is a hollow place in our family because you are not here. I can’t pretend it’s not there; part of that reality’s truth is to say it. Happy Birthday to you! You’re missed every day, especially at this time of year.

My Real Highlight Reel...My Word for 2023

The end of the year always brings highlights from the year we're leaving with bright hopes for the year ahead. I always love to see what those highlights look like and when I get ready to do mine, I'm always disappointed by what the algorithm chose for my "highlights." It's always difficult for an app to know what made my day and what got a lot of likes. In my economy, likes don't always equate to making my heart happy.

As I closed out the year, my word for 2022 was the noun version of Resolve-firm determination to do something. Similar words to resolve are braveness~courage~spunk~steadfastness~persistence

I'm looking back fondly because this word was the very essence of my year. I was persistent in understanding grief and all of the things that grief has taught me. I spent the year taking the information I've learned over several years of loss, pursuing what I've gleaned, and getting the training with the grief recovery method that has me moving into the next thing God has for me.

I've decided on my word for 2023 and just ordered my one little word piece.

My Word for 2023 is Inspire - to influence or impel, to give inspiration to, to produce or arouse (a feeling, thought, etc.). Other similar words are educate-enrich-enlighten-transform-nurture. As I move into 2023 with newfound information on grief and loss, I hope to Inspire others to feel their feelings and to process and complete their losses. I’m wondering…what is your word for 2023?? Happy New Year!!

My Christmas Playlist

I opened my Spotify playlist for Christmas recently and was instantly brought back to December 2020. This week marks one year since the beginning and ending of radiation for cancer. The Christmas playlist was something I listened to on my way to and from therapy in Sacramento. For the therapy portion of those days I tried to find songs that had a length of at least 5 minutes as that would be how long my treatments were. Maverick City Music always came through for me as most of their songs are at least that long. I haven't been listening to this playlist this year. I'm not sure why, maybe because I know myself well enough that being transported to that time isn't something I like. It wasn't painful; it was just that it was CANCER. It's like grief. It's constantly in the foreground. Always lurking. I'm grateful that I feel good and that my checkups to this point have been fine. It's just that I never know. So while picking up coffee, I remembered my playlist, and the memories of last year came rushing back.

Happy Birthday to you!!

Today is your birthday and as you begin your 29th trip around the sun I want you to know that we are so proud of you and are so grateful for the light that you bring to us. We don’t always agree and that’s ok. We hold on to the things that matter most, each other. This last year found you doing new things and forging new, uncharted paths.

As your mom, I want to give you space to acknowledge how the threads of grief and loss weave through the very fabric of any occasion we celebrate. The passing of time is a thief and sometimes we are left empty handed watching it run away from us. It seems to start as the season's change and carries through, at least for me, until spring. Honestly, it never goes away. I also realize that there are things that Dad and I don't know that only Evan held about you, and it's those things that I mourn. It's that proximity that I agonize over as I can't give those to you. You can't always articulate those things; you often seem without the words you need to express it, and I want to help, but I'm just a listener—an observer of the grief you bear. So I listen. I hold open the door so that you can walkthrough. I mourn with you as it seems hard to find those who understand these parts—the loss of a brother and all that comes with it. Happy Birthday, son! May this year hold great things for you as you continue to walk out your path.

Silence

I’m hoping this is a jump start to a return to writing after nearly 7 months of silence. Silence may not be the best word maybe it’s better to say I’ve felt without the words and emotions to express where I am in this journey.

Sad

Indifferent

Brokenhearted

Crushed

Hopeless

Empty

Angry

Hurt

Anxious

These words are just a short list of my current feelings. These probably don't fully communicate all that I have bottled up, but these words are the ones that bubble to the surface. I wrestle with them. I stuff them. I try to put a sunny face on them, but in doing so, that leaves me just on the brink of a full-on crying spell. So I continue. Not fully expressing my thoughts/feelings and internalizing all of it. Sometimes in stuffing them, I lash out at the things that show me the most compassion, but like a container under pressure, the angst has to go somewhere, often to the people/spaces that gives me the most expansive room.

We live in a world that, for the most part, does not want to acknowledge any of the above emotions along with failure, remorse, being tired, depressed, or just unable to “do it”. "You're so strong" or "you're so brave" isn't something we are, but it's an expectation that we honestly don't want. We face each challenge and conflict with resistance and anxiety just like the rest; we just chose to move forward with fortitude because we must.

2020/21 has been emotionally fragile, resurrecting my already monumental grief, anxiety, hurt, and sorrow. I want to return to a gentler time when people loved each other when I could rely on those closest to me to see through the strength and nurture my soul. Trying to navigate my feelings and emotions and in that I’m praying for the Lord to bring a sense of calm and nearness that has been absent.

These trials will show that your faith is genuine. It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold—though your faith is far more precious than mere gold. So when your faith remains strong through many trials, it will bring you much praise and glory and honor on the day when Jesus Christ is revealed to the whole world. 1 Peter 1:7 NLT