I heard from of few friends, that they were reluctant to call or talk, or even ask how I, or we, are doing. Yet, they also want to be sure I have not gone completely mad. (After reading this, you may think I have!). I think they (you?) are afraid to bring up anything that may set me back. I can understand how awkward they may feel, but I do not have a good answer on what is right to do. I hope this post will help address some of your concerns.
"How are you doing?"
We get asked this often. My answer to the question is usually the same, "I am doing ok" or, "some days better than others." But, that is really only the tip of the iceberg.
I cannot speak for the kids, entirely, but they feel the same way as I do, in varying degrees. When I first drafted this blog posting, I wrote "the kids are okay, and if they do have a hard time, they bounce back faster." They informed this was not necessarily true.
On some days, I am doing ok. That is if you define "OK" as I made it to work and back, the kids are fed, I made sure they do their school work, and we all got some sleep. Other days are not OK. In fact, they can be downright terrible. I have never faced anything this overwhelming! I have experienced fear and depression before, but nothing this debilitating, or unpredictable. I don't necessarily feel better if I cry, but I feel worse if I don't.
One book I read said grief is like waves on the ocean. I can usually see them coming, and may be able to step over the waves (of grief). But, if I ever turn my back on grief, a wave may completely wash over me. Then I wonder, "Wow, where did that come from?" As if I do not know. Like the ocean waves, grief's effects may not be apparent on any single day, but over months and years, it has life-altering effects.
"How are you doing?"
We get asked this often. My answer to the question is usually the same, "I am doing ok" or, "some days better than others." But, that is really only the tip of the iceberg.
I cannot speak for the kids, entirely, but they feel the same way as I do, in varying degrees. When I first drafted this blog posting, I wrote "the kids are okay, and if they do have a hard time, they bounce back faster." They informed this was not necessarily true.
On some days, I am doing ok. That is if you define "OK" as I made it to work and back, the kids are fed, I made sure they do their school work, and we all got some sleep. Other days are not OK. In fact, they can be downright terrible. I have never faced anything this overwhelming! I have experienced fear and depression before, but nothing this debilitating, or unpredictable. I don't necessarily feel better if I cry, but I feel worse if I don't.
One book I read said grief is like waves on the ocean. I can usually see them coming, and may be able to step over the waves (of grief). But, if I ever turn my back on grief, a wave may completely wash over me. Then I wonder, "Wow, where did that come from?" As if I do not know. Like the ocean waves, grief's effects may not be apparent on any single day, but over months and years, it has life-altering effects.
I never understood the "and the two shall become one" concept of marriage as much as I do now. I lost a part of me when Jeanne left. When I grieve, I also grieve the loss of "us."
Another thing I notice is how universally compassionate folks are about death. People who do not know me or Jeanne well, or who do know us, but are polar opposites in philosophy, religion, politics, or whatever, express their sincere sorrow and condolences. Birth seem to be one of the other events in life that is a great leveler of humankind.
I will be attending a grief group soon. I do so with trepidation, but also some eagerness! Eagerness? I guess I want to be around people that are going through the same thing. I am told this may help me feel more normal.
If you live locally, and want to visit Jeanne's gravesite, the marker, or headstone is there now. It is flat on the ground, so you will need to look for a few landmarks to find it. After you enter the Oak Lawn Cemetery, continue to drive straight ahead to the far side of the cemetery. After the road turns downhill, look for the the oak trees on the right. There is a stone bench next to one of the trees ( I think it is the fourth tree.) Jeanne's gravesite is a few steps from the bench. There are vases if you want to bring flowers.
Thank you all for your continued prayers and support!
Thank you,
Pat Hazleton
Another thing I notice is how universally compassionate folks are about death. People who do not know me or Jeanne well, or who do know us, but are polar opposites in philosophy, religion, politics, or whatever, express their sincere sorrow and condolences. Birth seem to be one of the other events in life that is a great leveler of humankind.
I will be attending a grief group soon. I do so with trepidation, but also some eagerness! Eagerness? I guess I want to be around people that are going through the same thing. I am told this may help me feel more normal.
If you live locally, and want to visit Jeanne's gravesite, the marker, or headstone is there now. It is flat on the ground, so you will need to look for a few landmarks to find it. After you enter the Oak Lawn Cemetery, continue to drive straight ahead to the far side of the cemetery. After the road turns downhill, look for the the oak trees on the right. There is a stone bench next to one of the trees ( I think it is the fourth tree.) Jeanne's gravesite is a few steps from the bench. There are vases if you want to bring flowers.
Thank you all for your continued prayers and support!
Thank you,
Pat Hazleton
3 comments:
Sooo... glad to get an update. Thanks for the honesty.
We continue to pray for you and the children.
Laurel :)
Thank you Pat for sharing your experiences. I find them deep and meaningful. A grief group sounds like a good place to be.
Dorry
Thank you Pat. The Shari's coffee and pie invitation is always there.
John
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