The birds are uncharacteristically quiet this morning. There are few cars on the distant freeway and aside from the occasional angry squirrel chatter, a golden silence fills the day. I love mornings like this. The coffee goes down a tad smoother and tight muscles slowly unwind in the morning air. God has blessed me once again with another day on “the right side of the roots” as my friend Railroad Charlie would say.
I try to soak up moments like these. They’ve been few and far between the last four-and-a-half months. The farm has been a lifesaver but there’s been a constant cloud of grief since Jeremy died. I still have difficulty with the word “died”. It reminds me of the finality of the whole situation. I usually talk about his “passing” rather than his “dying” as if to hold on to the opaque hope that this has all been a bad dream. The word choices don’t change reality though. Death is part of life so call it what it is.
I’m glad I get to work the farm. Work provides focus, but I always second guess myself and wonder if it’s a way to avoid dealing with the loss. We have many terrific volunteers that come out regularly to help, but I leave it to Stacey, our Volunteer Coordinator, to deal with them and pass out work assignments. I put my head down and try to stay as faraway as possible. I pray they don’t consider it unfriendly. Other folks are simply overwhelming right now.
The Kubler Ross Grief model names five stages of the grieving process – denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. I feel stuck in the depression stage these days. Honestly, the stages come and go daily – even acceptance – but depression is terrifying. Those who have suffered from depression know what I’m talking about.
I’m fortunate. I suffered from the chemical imbalance that causes depression. Medication worked for me. It wasn’t a quick fix. It took working with my doctor until I had the right dosage and medication to pull me out of the dark depths of depression. Now it seems to be taking over again – the irritability, the clouded thinking, the attention deficit, and sadness. This time it’s not something that can be fixed. I get that it’s situational – it’s not a quick fix, but a natural process – but that doesn’t make it any less frightening.
I’m blessed to have a circle of love and emotional support around me. I’m not confused – some people don’t have that. I have faith in a loving God who I know is carrying me through this. I don’t have to be afraid, but I am sometimes. I’m so grateful for the folks in my life, even if I tend to isolate lately. I’ve even been able to find gratitude in my world despite my loss. I know that one day I’ll look back and see the beautiful tapestry of life God is (and has always) woven for me.
I’m thankful I’ve been given the tools to work through this. I’m extremely grateful I haven’t had to make many amends for talking out the side of my neck. I’m grateful for the WordPress community – I’ve been able to begin reading (and comprehending!) again those of you I follow. Your writing has often done more for me than you know.
I’m finally able to begin writing thank you notes (without freezing up) to the many friends have been so kind and supportive to my family. Above all, I’ve been able to sit down and begin writing again. I may not do it well, but I’m able to have “Thoughts From the Porch” again.