Things that used to matter to me, no longer even seem interesting.
For instance, football. I have no desire to watch, talk about, listen to or contemplate the next football season. Adam is not playing so for the first season in 12 years, I will not be a football mom. That makes me sad in ways, but not in others. It's just weird. Just thinking about Bama football used to get me all charged up. Now, I feel nothing. Literally nothing. It's like my perspective has changed. Football is sport that one should enjoy, but not devour. I have been hung up on a lot of things in life that I now just want to let go of. Grief has taught me that. I should devour the things of God and simply experience the things he has put on this earth for us to enjoy.
Jewelry has always been a special thing for me. I have loved earrings and necklaces. Now, not so much. I bought my mother one of those lovely "Origami Owl" necklace and considered buying one for myself and then thought "Why"? What's the point? When they lay me in that casket, none of that will go with me. Oh they may decide to leave a necklace or bracelet on my body, but so what? I gave Angie a necklace for Christmas that she was buried in. When asked if I wanted it back, they could remove it before her burial, I said, "No". I gave it to HER. I picked it out for HER. Now she is gone. It's almost like even special jewelry means nothing. It's just a piece of metal with some beads. It's just stuff. Stuff that does not matter. And one day, people will be deciding who gets what of my stuff. So strange. STUFF. STUFF. STUFF. What joy does it bring? A brief moment of happiness when received, but it has no eternal value. It's just stuff.
The joy I have received in the past almost 18 weeks since her death is from God and people. Not stuff. I have gone to the monastery twice since her death and it was so altering. I felt like a dehydrated, sun scorched person in the desert crawling up to a cool fountain to drink deeply and soothe my withered body. What joy I found in the midst of God's most dedicated women with His presence so close I could almost touch him. Right there in the quiet midst of deep contemplative prayer is where joy lives. My heart opened and my heart's wounds were cared for in the overwhelming presence of my Father.
I've always wanted to minister to others. I want to serve. I want to be Jesus hands and feet. Point me in a direction, give me a task. Let me do something....I JUST WANT TO SERVE. But in grief, I've had to let go and let someone actually minister to me. Soak up the gifts of others and let them hold me up when I couldn't hold myself up. Relax in Him and let His people bring me joy and healing.
God has been leading me to this point in life with a very specific task in mind for me. He wants ME. He wants me to give myself completely over to HIM. It's just that simple. He doesn't care about all the stuff, the possessions and distractions of life. He wants me to give up everything and be with Him in the still, quiet places of my heart. He wants me to go to the closet of my soul and just be with Him so He can put a balm of healing on my broken heart. And I want to be with Him. That is comfort. That is joy.
On Sunday, May 19th, our entire family, both sides, was invited to our house for lunch and a celebration of Adam's graduation. About 50 or so were invited. I worked really hard to clean, prepare food and get everything just so. John was out of town for almost a month, so I did a lot of it by myself. I wanted it to be special for my wee boy, but I was exhausted when the day arrived. I briefly thought, I'll never be able to make it physically through this day. But when my house filled with all those beautiful people.....I felt joy. It oozed into my heart when I heard the laughter of my family as they relaxed and enjoyed each other. Most people stayed all day long so they could participate in our church's Graduation service that night. It was a long, long day of pure joy. Little kids running through the house, dropping food everywhere on my once clean floors. Big kids and little kids playing baseball in the backyard. Loved ones rocking on the back patio, talking about the "good ol' days" and telling stories. People napping on the couch and laying in the floor of the living room, while others were going back for seconds and thirds of the food. My beloved Jane and Aunt Rosene helping me clean the kitchen and we laughed until our sides hurt. Having Meredith ease up to me, wrapping her little arms around my legs and saying "I love you Kelley"...Dear God what LOVE and ultimate Joy. I felt love and joy even as my heart grieved for the fact that my friend wasn't with me to celebrate our children's lovely accomplishments.
I'm learning that it's not time that heals the wound of grief. It's quietness, love and joy, a little bit at a time, that begin to heal a deeply shattered heart. It's all about HIM and letting Him in.
The saddest and most uncomfortable thing I'm realizing in this journey is that people watch you as you grieve and judge. Isn't that strange? Some people think you should just whiz through the grief process and move on. Maybe some can. I applaud their quickness, but I don't seem to be one of those people. Just like most things in my life, I have to roll it around and think deeply about it. I have to mull "what ifs" and "how comes". Not because I question God, but because I question me. I want to learn from this horrible trial whatever it is that God wants me to learn. To whiz through the process acting like everything is A-O.K. would simply be a lie. Someone I don't know very well, actually told me to move on, stop crying and get on with life. What?
As God always does, He even provided me a friend who could help me through this. One of my dearest friends has suffered more loss and grief than one person should have to endure. She turned that suffering into ministering. She works with a grief group and ministers to others in their pain. She's been a constant friend and has texted me through some pretty rough spots. The most important thing she has given me is confidence that I'm not losing my mind, I'm just grieving. I praise God for my beloved Rhonda.
Here are the facts. My closest earthly friend is gone. Just like that....snap...gone. Never to return. She died from a hateful disease. She fought hard and lost the earthly battle, but won everlasting life from her Savior. While her victory brings me indescribable joy, the earthly loss has shattered me. There is a big Angie sized hole in my life that no one else will ever fill. I loved her for 35 years. We experienced more together than anyone else I can name. We didn't live together, but we LIVED together. Our friendship was a rare and special treasure to be cherished forever and ever. Someone said the other day, "You know, Angie wasn't really close to many people, but she was so close to you." And she was. We had a connection. We synced with each other's weirdness. As Paula said, "Angie understood Kelley and Kelley understood Angie." "WE" were rare. And now she is gone and there is no more "we" just me. And I have to learn to live with that.
I often wonder, if the story had gone the opposite direction and it was me that slipped away and her left behind, how would she react. The truth is it doesn't even matter. Each grief journey is different. There is no one who really understands my grief, just like I don't understand someone else's grief. The grief process is unique for each individual.
Sister Mary at the monastery said "The amount of grief equals the amount of love." Oh how I loved my friend and miss her every second of every day. It hurts in places in my soul that I didn't know I have. And the weird thing is, it's taking all my cells a long time to get the message that she is gone. I still hear her, I still see her, I still feel her.Parts of me don't get it yet. She's gone.
During the whole graduation process, I kept asking myself "What would Angie want me to do?" How can I help? Do I need to help? Do I need to back off? And then it hit. ANGIE HOW DARE YOU LEAVE ME WITH THIS! Yep, I hit the anger stage right in the middle of sorting pictures for the slideshows for church and school. Only the dogs know how loud I got in my anger. No one was hit, but lots of things got thrown in my office that day. I stayed, well there is no other way to say it, really pissed off for several days. Maybe even a couple of weeks. But even still, I kept it all together for graduation. Few tears in public. Lots of tears in private.
I went back to work at the United almost 3 months ago. Angie had been gone for 5 weeks went I got there. I know I must have been a sight when I walked in that office again. Grief stricken, lonesome and hollow. But in the work, I found life again. I found a place to serve my community and feel like I could contribute something good. I like the days that I work. Service is a great way to move through this part of my grief process. My job has been a true gift from God. It's likely the biggest part of me not having a nervous breakdown. It gave me a positive thing to focus on that had nothing to do with Angie. I actually screamed out loud at her the day I was having the "I'm really angry at you for leaving me" episode "Would you just leave me alone! Quit showing up everywhere I look. Stop leaving a paper trail of notes and lists and cards. Just leave me alone!" Well, if she heard me, she didn't listen. The paper trail kept showing up.
I shared my journey via this blog and facebook about having a friend with cancer. It helps me to write things out. So here you have it. This is my grief process. Agree with it or not, it's mine so don't judge. I will get through this, just as the rest of her family will. But each of us will walk this path differently. We will experience life without her in a unique personal way.
And that's ok.
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