Reflections Pt 2: Grief
I want to explore the grief component of my mosaic, and I’ll admit it feels funny to write about grief in this celebratory moment. A good friend cautioned me that grief might come back stronger with big life events, and this idea deeply resonates. It is also timely to talk about grief with recently moving through the 2 year anniversary of my dad’s passing (July 20th) as well as what would have been his 85th birthday (July 30th).
I see and feel him everywhere. In the morning after Patrick and I became engaged, I was reading by the river at our campsite. A hummingbird hovered very close to my face for about 30 seconds before zooming off. Shortly after, I was honored to see a family of mama and 8 baby ducklings doing swim practice. To echo my last post, love wins... and love and grief are deeply intertwined.
Grief can be all-consuming, wrenching, defeating, and makes it hard to relate. It comes in waves that overpower you without warning. With each wave, I sit in the experience, allow all the feelings and thoughts, and let it run its course. I’ve experienced how new grief compounds with the old. I’m still grieving the changes I’ve had to make due to my many head injuries, the many human and animal losses over the years - the most significant was losing my dad so quickly and unexpectedly 2 years ago - and now, all that this accident entails... not to mention the many things about the general state of the US and world.
I resonate with the idea that grief is like a shipwreck. We are hit by recurring and random waves of profuse heartbreak and longing, at times bringing clarity and at times tumultuous thought. All the areas of your life (identity, relationships, work, hobbies, how you show up in the world) are thrown into the ocean, and you have to fight for what you want to hold on to. It is also an opportunity to let some things go and make important changes, as you realize what you want to fight for. The waves become less frequent and less intense over time as we begin to heal and integrate, though I realize now it’s more like waiting for the next experience to come and reignite the choppy sea. In the new waves there is both an understanding of how to stay afloat, as we have done this before, and greater feelings of longing as the grief builds. Lately, I find comfort in the waves. I am moving through my recovery with the learnings from previous grief experiences, and those I have lost are riding the waves with me.
I increasingly recognize the complexity and layers of my grief. Much like my physical injuries, there are layers of mental/emotional/spiritual trauma that will take a long time to unravel, understand, and heal. My grief continues to evolve. I write more about this below and will continue to update my thoughts as I understand myself better.
What am I grieving specifically related to this accident?
Who I pictured I’d be now - growing in my consulting work, using my MPH training, more active in my community, going on adventures, soon having kids, traveling
Relationships - many have changed since the accident, in both good and hard ways
Activities I love and cannot currently do - walking/running with the dogs, volleyball, skiing, paddle boarding, hiking, DIY projects, house and yard work
Ability to have a full life, one that is not consumed with and driven by medical appointments and a lawsuit
The enjoyment of food - I am learning how to adapt and make food that is accessible to my current mouth and is yummy and at the same time I am not often excited to eat
My appearance - I know I am beautiful and still, when I look in the mirror I am frequently startled by what I see. There are many things that weren't initially apparent and I have come to realize that I miss about my appearance, like my smile and my facial freckles.
Intimacy in the way I used to know it - I can’t feel much of my face and lips, my body is a constant reminder of what happened
As I establish with NM surgeons and specialists, I grieve the loss of my CO surgeons who felt like family
