When I first discussed writing a column for The Kewanee Voice, the idea was that maybe, by going through grief of my own, I might be able to help others. I would love it if that happened, though I didn’t want every piece to be a downer. Let’s face it, grief is a big, fat, hairy downer.
Today, I want to talk about what made me go wacky for several years, while acknowledging that, yes, I’m still a little wacky, but I’m much better now.
I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again: After Gary died, I lost my memory for a few days. Can’t get it back, and I’m done trying. But I did go down two giant black holes of depression. They were so deep that when I came back up, my decent health status was no more. And I’m still not where I need to be.
Mentally, I’m back up and running. Well, not running. I may never run again, and that’s okay. But when you’ve been living your life, going to work, shopping for groceries, taking day trips – heck, even doing laundry or cooking supper – and you get some devastating news, well, those of you who are going through this now know what I’m talking about.
Your regular life isn’t around anymore. You live minute by minute. Maybe you’ve had the one shoe drop, and now you’re waiting for the other one. Your appetite is gone, you can’t sleep, and you have that thousand-yard stare that usually means you’re lost inside your own mind wondering just who pulled the rug out. Or, maybe you’re eating too much and sleeping too much.
TV on or off? Music? Video games? Hang out with friends or stay home? Which friends stuck by you? Did family leave, never to return or check in on you?
Something I did twice: sit in a chair, in the dark, for days on end. I even had a police officer check on me because I wouldn’t answer my phone. When I finally did speak to a dispatcher, she begged me to let her send an ambulance. I refused and hung up on her.
Then, gently, God sent angels to me. All I wanted was to go to be with Gary. At that time, I didn’t know about Clint; I just assumed he was still alive and would come home someday. But Gary and I had spent 45 years together, and I just knew I couldn’t stay here without him.
So, here they came, those angels I spoke of. One friend, then another, then two more, then some I’d never met. More and more came, and I realized that while the sky was still as dark as midnight, I could see a sparkle here and there. Those were my friends.
It wasn’t the food they brought (and still bring) – the cookies, pies, cakes, tomatoes, meals. It was something far more valuable because it was their time. They gave and give time, a most precious possession, and they’re sharing that with someone who desperately needs it.
I personally know some folks in our community who are struggling with having their lives turned upside down and inside out. And I would venture to guess that what they appreciate more than any one thing that anyone could give them, is your time and friendship more than you could possibly know.
Yes, some friends and family will fade away, probably never to return. It happened to me. But, look at who showed up! It’s the true friend, the new friend, the stranger who you have never met but is praying for you every day.
Like I said, God sends angels to care for and about you.
My best friend was here the other day. I asked her to go into Clint’s room and bring down a stuffed Bugs Bunny. We both looked at Bugs and came to the same conclusion at almost the same time. “You need to clean him up,” she said. “Yup,” I said, “I really do.”
She left, then called a short time later. “Did you clean Bugs yet?” I told her I hadn’t. She was quiet for a beat, then said, “I wouldn’t. If Clint’s scent is on him, you don’t want to wash that away.” I cried, thankful I hadn’t washed Bugs.
Like I said, angels.
