On Trying to Live With Grief

So I've been going about the business of trying to live peaceably with grief in my life. I've noticed that the problem I've been running into is that when I'm grieving, I feel depressed. Anybody who's felt depressed could tell you that it's difficult to function normally under those conditions. So it's a bad circle because if you can't function normally it's tough to live your life peaceably.

But I've been trying. I've been going through days. In this process of trying to manage under the circumstances and trying to continue on while trying to find a new acceptable normal, I've uncovered a couple of problem areas. Now they've become nagging thoughts that plauge me and give me guilt.

One is that I feel bad for my husband. Not only am I grouchy (third trimester normalcy), but I feel like I'm a pretty big downer to be around and to live with. I mean, what a deal for him. Meet a nice, joking, fun, girl; date; get engaged; get married; only to find yourself with somebody completely different a few years down the road than who you started out with. I know that I miss the old me, imagine how he feels.

The other one is that I feel bad for my children. See above: grouchy. Only add a whole slew of other things like impatient, mean, ornery, ininterested, disconnected, sluggish.. And they never had the benefit of meeting me when I felt like a nice, loving person.

The thing that eats at me probably the most about that, though, is something I read in a Catholic Mothers Online post awhile back. One thing in particular stood out to me and stuck in my memory. The author bolded the suggestion to smile at your children because the most beautiful thing to a child is his mother's smile. (Funny to have to remind a mother to do this, eh?--well it stuck with me and I've reminded myself of it many times. It's true, they do like it. They smile back.)

Well when you're going through a difficult time; situational depression, my midwife tells me; it's tough to smile at all. Even out in public with strangers and especially at home with family where you're most honest, most yourself. But I suppose my family deserves the benefit of a little effort, huh? (I try. I do try. It's just not easy and it's not what I feel like doing. I wouldn't get out of bed in the morning if I did exactly what I felt like!)

And you know those people who, when you were in school, if you were having a crummy day they'd come up to you and look at you and say, "what's wrong?" all sympathetic and caring, and they were more than an acquaintence than a friend so it was hard to appreciate their caring or sincerity? And then you'd have to say something to them to satisfy their inquiry? That always annoyed me. [BUT, at the same time I've never been one to be able to (or try really hard to) mask what I'm feeling and/or censor how it comes across on my face or in my body language. So maybe it's my own fault.]

Well now I have a certain two-year-old boy that I live with who will, at regular intervals, come up to me, place himself in my direct line of sight, then either get really close or grab my face or both, and then he smiles as big as he possibly can and do it repeatedly until I reciprocate. Talk about a subtle reality check. Ugh. Not something I feel good about. A definite sign I'm failing at smiling at my children.

So not only are there repercussions for my husband and children, the new baby and I are showing some physical signs as well. Namely, gaining way too much weight this pregnancy due to overeating and inactivity, because when I feel crummy I eat crummy and when I feel crummy I rarely take the initiative to get up and get active. Bum deal. I know that I would probably feel much better if I would suck it up, get proactive, and do the right things (eat better/normally and exercise). I do sometimes, but it's in spurts: when I feel strong vs. when I feel weak, good days vs. bad days. So, all I can do is keep trying.

I suppose that's all that can be said, huh? There will be good days and bad days, days when I feel strong and days when I feel weak, but all that I can do is keep trying. Keep going through the days, one at a time, until eventually, maybe the good days will outnumber the bad days once again.

But In The Mean Time

In the mean time, though, this is where God has me. He has his reasons and I just have to live with it. (Probably because I have a lot more suffering to do before I could even come close to be fit to meet Him.)

Anyway, I know that the Lord isn't oblivious to or uncaring about how we feel or losses that we suffer. And although I do know that, yes, this is life, there are things that cause us pain and that we have to endure/suffer/learn to live with/offer up/etc., and I think it's okay (if not necessary) to acknowledge them in order to learn how to cope, to find a way to carry on, and to possibly find a little healing.

First, I'll tell you why this grief business has become such a big deal for me. Mainly because I've lost my two pillars. The two people who raised me. The two people who you have in your life that love you unconditionally, who you know will be there to support you, who want to listen to you and hear the things you have to say. The two people who know you the best and understand you not only because they've known you your whole life, but also because they are the reason you are the way you are. These are the people that you love and trust and look up to and know that you can depend on for absolutely anything.

My Mom and my Gramma.

That might seem like a weird combination, but my parents got divorced when I was somewhere between two and four years old and my brother was just a baby. After that, as a single mother, my mom relied heavily on her parents. Hence, the close relationship to my grandparents. My gramma quickly became, next to my mom, the person I was closest to. We had such a special relationship; I depended on her for a lot, even after my mom got remarried (often, especially then) and well into my own adulthood and motherhood. She was my role model. And, I see now, my mom's right-hand man in raising my siblings and me.

Some mothers and daughters don't seem to have very good or close relationships, but for my mother and me that was not the case. I was the oldest child, the only girl (until my half-sister was born twelve years later), and my mom's helper. From a young age, for better or for worse, I was often my mother's confidante. She always said I "had to grow up fast." No wonder, right? I'm not upset about any of that, it just illustrates the history and the nature of our relationship. Close.

So those were my two people and now I don't have either of them any more. I lost my mother to breast cancer two weeks before my second son was born (4 1/2 years ago). She was 48. I lost my gramma to multiple myeloma less than five years later. She was 81 and I was 28 weeks pregnant.

Losing one of your pillars is bad, but when they are both gone the emptiness that you feel in the core of your being is terrifically difficult to withstand. (It's also aggrivated by the feeling that as a young mother of a growing family I could really benefit from them telling me what to do!)

So that is why I'm feeling that these losses are personally significant and why I feel like I'm being forced to turn so much of my attention to learning how to deal with grief (and how this relates to my faith life and my relationship with God).

c'est la vie

Yes, that's life.

Since talking with a good friend last week I've been pondering the truth of that statement. The suffering and loss we experience in this life should be expected and, I suppose, taken with a few grains of salt. This is because, as Christians, we realize that that is just the nature of this life. And also, that ultimately we don't belong here. This is not our home, we only cause ourselves problems by being mislead into forgetting this.

I suppose it's a combination of knowing this internally and the suffering involved in living life on earth that has given me a very differnt take on death than I'm sure a lot of people have. Most of the time I'm ready to go. I'd rather be in heaven than living my life on earth. Any day. I'm ready.

That's how I feel. I think it's a good thing. But, I've been suprised at some of the looks on people's faces that I've expressed this to. Even people who go to church. Their expression and demeanor changes and suddenly looks as though I'm talking crazy talk, like I'm a real wacko, or like I'm telling them the equivalent of, "I'd like to kill myself." (Which of course I would never do for the sake of my family and for the sake of my soul. It would not make sense at all since the goal is to get to heaven.)

I think living with the feeling that you'd much rather be in heaven is the way we're all supposed to be living.

The only problem is that this causes a certain tension. Living, being stuck here, and knowing it's not where you ultimately belong, where you really want to be. That, I don't know what to do with. Accept it? Ignore it? Use it as motivation to live out your {faith and works} to the best of your ability and never be a slacker? (probably.)

Oh, God, save us. For it is certainly true that our souls will be restless until they rest in You.

Honesty Is The Best Policy

There have been some highlights, yes, and some good and positive times, too. But the sum total of my mood and outlook and affect these past months and days has been depression. Heavy, lethargic, uninterested depression. It makes mothering three energetic little boys really challenging. Yeah, and being 32 weeks pregnant (in 90-some degree weather) doesn't really do much for the energy, sunshine, and smiles department either.

So I'm quite aware of all of this, painfully, in fact. Which makes it even worse because then I feel guilty for being the biggest drag and the worst mother ever on top of feeling like that in the first place.

Rotten.

But, I've decided that it could be constructive to explore my grief here. I've done it before, so I guess there's no reason to stop now. (Other than it's a terrible topic that probably nobody would choose to or enjoy reading about...)

I've been wondering some things about grief lately. Does it ever go away? Do people who experience great loss carry the emptiness and pain with them until they themselves die? Is it possible for people who feel such pain to recover the ability to feel like their old, carefree, whole selves again?

Are these experiences of grief tools God uses: To get people to fill the void with Him? To long to leave this insufferable earth and live in peace and completeness in Heaven with Him (and the lost loved ones)? As a cross for us to carry and a means for us to participate in suffering? As an opportunity through all these things to grow in holiness? I suspect the answer to all of the above in this group is yes, but at this point, I'm not so sure how I feel about being happy for this "opportunity." Honestly, I feel pretty crappy about having this particular opportunity for suffering and growth in holiness. Right now I'm ornery about it.

On Humility

Thank you, pregnancy, and six-year-old sons. The combination of you helps me keep my feet on the ground and my head out of the clouds.

Son (while rubbing and stroking my belly like an enormous crystal ball) : Mom, your belly is so big. It's like a big, big egg. It's such a big egg a mama chicken would fit in it!

At A Loss

It was two weeks ago on Sunday that my Gramma passed away while I was sitting at her side praying for her. It was what the Church would call a "happy death." So that's good. The only problem is that now that she's gone I'm not happy about it.

running behind

Catholic Mothers Online is going to kick me out pretty soon if I don't get my act together enough to post at least once a month!

But, that's pretty much my scene these days: running behind and trying to catch up! I'm sure it's a combination of weather, low affect, grief, and growing belly that are some of my biggest challenges to productivity and effectiveness these days.

On the plus side, about 90% of the garden is planted. Today I spent a lot of time reading to my boys, and we actually ate a supper that involved some cooking and it was even eaten at the dining room table with everyone present.

I feel like I'm getting to the point where it is time to minimize expectations in order to 1-be realistic (and eliminate the negative everything that accomodates not measuring up to my made-up ideals) and 2- be able to actually recognize having accomplished the simple things as successes. It is my brain and my habit of list making (and the addiction to crossing things off the list) that causes the resistance when I get to this stage.

I'm thinking that a more prayerful approach to our days (again) would help a lot. BUT, admittedly, since we got done with the lessons for Kindergarten our Rule pretty much fell to the wayside since so much of our day was built around them. I haven't really liked the resulting aimlessness of our mornings that has developed since then.

So one of the things that has been on my to-do list for the last several weeks has been to develop a lesson-free/summer-time Rule to guide our days. I'm bumping it up a few notches. Do you have any suggestions to help me along?

As I Was Saying

This was taken this morning, April 1, out my back door. This brings the snow-covers-the-grass-after-it's-already-melted-the-first-time count to FIVE. Five. Five times our grass has been covered again by snow after emerging from winter's cover. Five times our hopes of Spring Lasting have been dashed. If anyone ever calls me a cynic, I'll say "Spring" made me this way.

Optimism

I'm not really sure what difference it will make, but when I noticed that today was the last day of the month it made me really happy. Whenever I have something going on that I'd like to get over with (grieving, cold weather, etc.) I erroneously equate the passing of time on the calendar with the end of whatever it is that's bugging me. Yes, it's true that the more days that go by the more the seasons transition from one to the next, but it's foolishness (where we live anyway) to believe that on April first we will have arrived at warm, sunny, guaranteed-snow-free weather. As much as I L.O.V.E our state, this time of the year makes me flirt with thoughts of going south and freeing ourselves of cabin fever and winter coats and all of their accompaniments two months sooner. Oh, Lord, take me away! (Or else give me the patience necessary for Spring in Wisconsin!)

A Great Giveaway

I just thought I'd let you know that Ginny at Small Things is hosting a giveaway this weekend. It's a great basket full of healthy, earth-friendly art supplies. Hurry, it ends on Monday!

Yarn Along

These are all of my knitting accomplishments from the last several weeks.

The baby hat is a version of a free drops pattern I found on ravelry. I'm just happy that it fits him, considering I did just about everything differently than how they said to do it. The pattern also calls for a crocheted border to be added on at the very end. But, since I don't know how to crochet and also because a friend who does informed me that it would be slightly scallopy, I decided to leave it off in hopes of having it seem more boyish.

In the background you'll see two pairs of I-corded mittens, one for each of the older boys. I love having the mittens on that cord! They were so smart in the olden days. The mittens do not get lost, but there also isn't any hunting for each child's mitts before we can go anywhere or having to help with getting the right one on the right hand, etc. I love it.

There are a couple of things I didn't expect to happen with the mitten project, though. One, is that the I-cords really stretch a lot. I thought they probably would a little bit and pulled on it as I was making and measuring them, but they still stretched even more than that. So in the future I will knock a few inches off the wrist-to-wrist measurement.

The other unexpected occurrence with these mittens is that because I didn't use a superwash and they're 100% wool, with the boys wearing them out in the snow and back in the house, they're felting themselves! I'm quite pleased with this, though, because in the beginning I was worried that they wouldn't be as warm or as airtight as some store-bought counterpart and now I think they are. (Although I think a little bit of the length on each of the mittens was sacrificed to the felting. Something to keep in mind for next time.)

I now have on the needles (for the second time--had to start over last night) a matching blue stocking hat for Honeybun, as his brother has his green mitten and hat set (you know how these things go).

Sadly, I don't have any books to rave about today. I'm waiting on a couple from the library that I have pretty high hopes for and I just returned a bunch of planting and recipe books last night. So hopefully by next time I'll have more interesting book news for you!

Visit Ginny to see all of the great reads and projects everyone else has going on!

The Simple Woman's Daybook, Vol. 4

FOR TODAY, Tuesday, March 1

Outside my window... It's dark and back down below freezing now. Although the ground is still white and buried with at least a foot of snow, we got to see the sun and enjoy 40 degree weather today!

I am thinking... I would really like to know the origin/reason why knitters say they "frogged" something to mean that they had to rip it all out and start over. I don't get it! I have two guesses. Either it's because "ripped it (out)" kindof sounds like "ribbit" or it's an acronym for all of the swear words circling the mind when all of the undoing is taking place. My vote is for the second.

I am thankful for... the basics that are easily overlooked: home, food, health, income, safety.

From the learning rooms... Technically, we're on break after finishing the Kindergarten curriculum a couple of weeks ago. So we've been enjoying the departure from the books lately, but today we enjoyed some naptime-cuddletime-read aloud from his old reading books-time. I think this should find its way into the majority of our days.

From the kitchen... nothing too special. I've lost my great-ideas-for-supper groove, so it's been pretty simple lately.

I am wearing... layers.

I am creating... a homemade (handknit) hat for Honeybun (which, yes, was frogged this evening and begun again).

I am going... to see the midwife next week.

I am reading... FitPregnancy.

I am hoping... to make it through the transition to (actual) Spring without losing all semblance of sanity.

I am hearing... Captain Janeway bossing people around (No, I am not the one watching it nor am I the one with a shred of interest in it.).

Around the house... the need for a purging of the toys has been lurking in my mind and is only becoming ever more annoying and evident.

One of my favorite things... eating food. Any and all food, really, but especially food that I'm feeling particularly drawn to at any given moment.

A few plans for the rest of the week: getting out when we can and taking advantage of the weather if/when it's nice. Also, I'm hoping to visit my grandparents at some point this week, but other than that, we'll just be enjoying daily life.

Here is picture for thought I am sharing..

Visit Peggy for more Simple Women!

This Split Second

Originally I planned to join Soulemama for This Moment last Friday after capturing this series of photos that morning. I laughed at myself at the time about it because I've never linked up with that before and on the first time I'd've been breaking the rules. Three photos and probably some words (can I never not have words? come on.). But then, technically, these three pictures were taken within probably a second, so they would still all meet the "moment" criteria.

Alas, all of this was for naught because, ultimately, it never happened. But I still kept thinking about posting the series regardless, so here we are today. (And also I've had a couple of bits and pieces I thought worth posting about, so this was a good excuse for that.)

First of all, my ferments are on the rocks. Well, not technically. Initially I thought that freezing my kombucha scoby and the kefir and water kefir grains might be okay in order to take a bit of a break from all of the upkeep (since I have piima culture in the freezer and that's okay). But, I'm glad I looked into it because freezing them is definitely not recommended. It turns out that (from my research, anyway) dehydrating the grains (dairy and water kefir) is the most desirable form of storage with the best possible chances for revitalization in the future.

Since I've had these poor creatures being neglected in my fridge for weeks (and I've been feeling terribly awful and guilty everytime I open the door and glimpse them in there), I finally took the plunge on Sunday. I emptied them all out, washed them all off, and prepared a safe place for them to dry. It was a very weird day and a little sad, too. (I really have no idea what I'm doing and hope that they'll come through it all right in the end. One more experiment, right? And hopefully a new level of success and mastery with the crazy stuff, right??)

Anyway, so they seem to be doing fine for the time being, just getting drier by the day.

The kombucha is an exception, though. It seems as though you can store them in your fridge in sweetened tea and just open it up for air and/or fresh food occasionally. At first I thought I might get rid of my scoby entirely and either get one from a friend later or try growing another one like I did the first time. BUT, I had a change of heart because I thought the poor thing was probably starving and also we have friends coming this weekend who may still be in need of one (I have two). So I gave them fresh food and put them in the fridge and we'll see how that goes.

And I still have my back-up (and now only) piima cream culture in the freezer in storage. And I also dumped out all of my sourdough starter that I had been storing in the fridge. I felt really sad and wasteful about that, but honestly I didn't really care for the taste of the bread when I made it. :( (and I hadn't yet gotten around to experimenting with making other sourdough stuff: crackers, pancakes, etc., probably for lack of confidence in the taste of the result.)

So that's the current status on all of my fermenting adventures. I also feel a little bit bad about it, though, because without the kefir/buttermilk/whey products I really haven't been soaking any of my flour or grains, etc, via the Nourishing Traditions method/theory. Personally, I'm not totally committed to having to do it 100% of the time, but I loved the pancakes it made and some of the other recipes, too, so it's quite a bummer in that regard. And I also liked that I had already had a headstart on meal prep in one little step which eliminated last-minute (or all day) panic about what to make for a meal!

On the other hand, though, I've been thinking about trying the yogurt making again now that my load is a little lighter (and begin making bread again, too. really, I've been bigtime slacking.) which would probably yield some whey. And couldn't you soak with plain yogurt, too?----I'd like to try reproducing the culture in Activia (bifidus regularis) because I like how it works but I don't like all the sugar in it and am opposed to ingesting the *light* version. Plus, it's expensive and there's a lot of packaging waste involved. Do you think that's possible? If I used some of the Activia as my starter? It's my hypothesis, anyway.

Twice Is Nice!

There seems to be a variety of opinions about leftovers.

Some people refuse them. Some people wouldn't choose to eat them but do anyway because it's being served and they don't have a choice. Still other people like leftovers and feel quite fondly towards them.

That's me.

Especially when the leftovers are from a lovely evening of coffee, paninis,

conversation(=Mom's Night) and I get to live it over again in my head the next day!

Life Lessons

Chatterduck is a book that I owned as a child and was reclaimed by me a couple of years ago when going through boxes of Mom's stuff. I brought it home to read to my children, and, in doing so, I thought it was surprisingly harsh for a children's book (it's old). But they liked it, so we've kept it in our collection and have continued to read it.

The premise of the book is that Chatterduck is a little duck that "says quack, quack, quack all day long." All the other animals on the farm grow quite tired of this and eventually the other ducks throw him out of the duck house and "poor chatterduck cries himself to sleep on a stump." He's back at it the next day, though, and so everyone on the farm and even some people from town conspire together to scare him quiet with a big "BOO!" It works and the book concludes by saying that from then on if Chatterduck has "something really important to say he just says, 'Quack.'"

I'm beginning to conclude that that was a moral that I took to heart as a child and that evidence of this is manifesting itself on my blog.....

An Advent Miracle

Before Christmas I vented about feeling nuts and pressured in regards to everyone's idea of and expecation for being READY for Christmas. At the time, I was anticipating going to Confession. Due to sick children and a snowstorm, however, I missed the opportunity. I was pretty worried that I'd missed out altogether, but thankfully I was able to find another parish in the area that was offering the Sacrament several evenings the week before Christmas.

So the next day, I still had 90% of my shopping left to do and everything else was still the same, too, but I set out that evening. I left the children at home with their father and went straight to the church to be sure I wouldn't miss out again.

I was so ready and so thankful for the opportunity, and praise to God and his mercy, I was able to have a wonderful Confession and a nice time of reflection and prayer afterward. Then when I went to leave, I walked out the door and down the steps to my car to begin the shopping. All of a sudden, right in that moment, I was struck. It hit me, "Now I'm ready. Now I am ready for Christmas."

Yarn Along

This particular pair of mittens was made in record time for a very special lady in my life. My soulmate, my Gramma, hinted about having a nice pair of handmade mitts after seeing the blue pair that I gifted to my sister for Christmas.

I got to work straight away as soon as the yarn came in the mail. (I even ventured to shop online for the first time to find just the right thing for her--a slightly unnerving experience for someone who loves to examine colors and feel textures of the wool.)

Knowing my Gramma well, I modified the mitty pattern so that it was just a little snug on me and then I crossed my fingers hoping that it would be just right.

It only took me two days to finish this project and when I finally got to present them to her two days later they fit perfectly! It felt great when she commented (because it's a rarity with her thin hands), "They even fit!" *Proud!*

My Grampa called me this afternoon especially to tell me that once she was resting in bed this afternoon she requested to have her mittens to wear and that she was even wearing them in bed last night, too. (Their house isn't cold, it's just her cold hands.)

The stack of books: Redeeming Love is a retelling of a biblical story set in the 1800's. It was recommended by a friend who had it recommended to her by a priest. It's well written, but it's heavy. I've stopped it for now because it's so awful and I can't take reading it. We've been reading Plum Creek for months now, it seems. And the others are nice knitting books. I'm currently working mitties for the boys from a pattern in Knitting For Baby. They're getting fiddled with, though, because the pattern size is "up to 24 mos."

Be sure to visit Ginny for all of the Yarn Along entries!