Long time no talk. At least not talk in the sense that you read my ramblings instead of the pointed and meaningful memes that I post on The Final Fifty FB page. Here is your disclaimer for today: This post contains some sad content. It may speak to you on a different level than just the "I feel fat" level. There will be some hints of the same old sarcastic humor sprinkled throughout, but it will mostly involve real life feelings.
I know I have mentioned a few times on here about my grandmother (I call her Gram) battling cancer for the second time in her life this past year. It relates to health and weight loss in few ways and we'll get into that in a minute. Gram lost her battle in the wee hours of the morning on May 20th, just over a week ago. She passed away in her home. My mom was with her. At that point we were taking "nursing" shifts and I was at home struggling to get some sleep. A pointless task. I regret not being at her side when she crossed over, but I think in the big scheme of things she knew that I had been there all along.
This past week has been filled with all kinds of activity for me. As Gram's POA (Power of Attorney, some of you may have known what those letters stood for, they were new to me when this whole started) and executor, I have had some big decisions to make in the past couple weeks and I'm sure more to come. To say my stress level was getting a little high might be a gross understatement. I had to make life and death decisions for another person. Let me tell you, that puts some things into perspective. I don't know how long my new found priorities will last, but I hope the lessons that I take from Gram's life and her death stay with me for a good long while.
Last night was her Celebration of Life BBQ. She didn't want a funeral service. This didn't surprise me, it just wasn't her style. But she did love to see my Mom and I entertain people and feed them good food. So, that is exactly what we did. It was an impeccable spread, even by our standards, if I do say so myself. The people that came and showed their love and support for us and for her were amazing. You find out who truly cares for you in times of turmoil, and last night we were blessed to be surrounded by some A-MAZING people. Strong people. Giving people. And they all show it a little bit differently. I am so grateful for EACH and EVERY one of them.
I have been worried about the process of grief this past week. I'm the type of person that has a schedule and keeps to it because that is how I survive. I keep myself extremely busy because I operate better that way, but that means that I have to stay organized about life. So what is the schedule for grief?? Shouldn't I be crying more? Shouldn't I be more angry? Shouldn't I be stress eating my way through every day? I have been worried that because I haven't cried much at all that I don't feel bad about Gram's death. Part of me doesn't feel bad. Bare with me here. At the end, the cancer had taken away her mind and her ability to communicate. The only sounds that came from her were those of pain, no words, just painful moans. Do I feel bad that she is no longer in that pain? Hell no. As much as I would love to have her on this Earth with me, I don't want it if she has to be the condition she was in at her passing. I know in my heart that she is in a better place, and for that I am thankful. I don't feel bad about that. I also don't feel bad that my Mom and I are not watching her go through that anymore. I am glad that I was here and that I was able to care for her in her last days, and for the last year for that matter. But, it is taxing on a person to watch and help a loved one through something like that. She suffered from a condition called hepatic encephalopathy at the end. Basically your liver stops filtering ammonia and the build up is essentially poison that makes your brain go crazy. You say and do things that you have no control over. The last words that she ever spoke to me were hateful because that was the trick that her brain was playing on her. She no longer wanted to take her medicine, and she was determined to fight me on it. I have to believe that she did NOT feel that way about me and it was just an ugly side effect of what she was going through. But, I wonder if that is connected to why I haven't cried very much? Am I hurt on some level about that? Last night I stood up when it was time to serve dessert and said a few words to the people that joined us in Gram's celebration. I welled up. I felt the love. It may not be that I haven't wanted to cry, I just might not be there yet. I haven't gotten to that part of my process. Maybe I just haven't let myself. Handling all the things I have been handling hasn't necessarily given me the time to stop and let go at all. Maybe that is one of the lessons that I need to learn. Grief doesn't have a schedule. It is different for everyone. My grief might not look like my Mom's. It might not look like anyone else's. It is mine and it will happen on its own sweet time.
So, let's tie this in to our theme. My ability to cope through the past couple of weeks has stemmed on two things:
1) The support of my friends and family. And friends that I consider to be family. Without some of them to tell me I was doing ok, that I was doing the right things, and to offer up just to be there for me, there is good chance I would have lost my shit. Sorry for the profanity, but that is the truth. There were a couple in particular that were quick to remind me that my strength came from trusting God and HIS plan and HIS timing. I have to say that they could not have been more right. We were so blessed that Gram didn't have to suffer any longer than she did. We were so blessed that several things have worked out the way that they have. Right down to the funeral home that I selected being a PERFECT fit for us. God is good. And he was good enough to send me some special messengers.
2) Running. If I ever felt myself losing my grip on reality, I went for a run. I didn't grab the closest thing I could eat. I didn't drink to dullness with the rest of my family. I found an appropriate space in time and I let my feet hit the pavement repeatedly until I firmly had a grip on reality again. Running is my sanctuary now. Running is when I clear my head and talk to God. Running pumps my blood, works my lungs, and fills my heart. At the end of a run I feel the best I ever feel. I am so very grateful for finding a coping mechanism that builds me up instead of destroying my body and my mind. Hello healthy! It is my new way to deal with life. The day after Gram passed I ran my fastest half marathon to date. I was drained physically and emotionally before the race even started but all the training I have done carried me through. One of my best friends on the planet has always told me "there is no substitute for time." How right he is. He is usually talking about training horses, but as it turns out, cowboy logic is applicable to all faucets of life.
For now, I am going to proceed forward one day and one thing at a time. I am going to keep tackling things as they come. I am going to keep eating clean and running. I am going to indulge when it is warranted. I am going to do my best to take care of myself... And my Mom... And my friends... Because that is who I am and no amount of grief should stop any of that. I will go get my nails done tomorrow. And meet a bride at her venue to plan her wedding pictures. And travel to Canada for a mini-vacation on Wednesday. Because life goes on regardless of grief. Life is for the living, and I plan to live. I dearly hope that Gram enjoys watching from above.
