Change

While sitting on my lawn tractor this evening (having what I otherwise call "noodle time"), I reflected on what's been happening over the last 3 or 4 months. This led to further reflection over the last 3 years since Mom's death - something I've been doing a lot of lately.

It's been an eventful time - both good and bad. In no particular order - Mom's passing, MIL's passing, one of my sisters-in-law passing, the son of one niece (-in-law) passing late in the third trimester, the son of another niece(-in-law) born and now a happy little boy, a number of awesome events with family and our church's high school youth at various activities and mission trips, and Dad going on to dialysis, moving out here to be closer to us, and flourishing and rediscovering himself in many ways. Those were some of the biggest events from the last blog post until the new year of 2011.

Change.

So far in 2011 we have seen (again in no particular order) - the completion of our duties as youth leaders with our high-school youth at church, The Legacy's graduation from high school and moving into the college dorms in exactly one month, the marriage of yet another niece(-in-law) in a wonderful (if warm) ceremony, the first extended vacation for my Bride and I since the Legacy's birth (to celebrate 25 years of matrimony, and in Europe no less!), the death of my Aunt (Mom's sister), and the recent decline in Dad's health that has had him consider discontinuing dialysis and the certain outcome that will come after that.

Change.

Much to be proud of, and much to celebrate. However, the death of my Aunt has led me down a dark path. As I grieved her passing and some of what I might have been able to do differently, it has made me realize that I never fully nor appopriately grieved Mom. In focusing on Dad and his needs for the best possible quality of life for him, (and trying to be a good Dad myself, providing for the needs of my family at many levels) - there just wasn't time.

That realization came creashing down in the weeks after my Aunt's death. It's like it swept over me and, at times, enveloped my soul as if in a blanket. Nothing in, nothing out. Just pain, loneliness, and longing. Pain in grief, a form of loneliness which contributed to significant depression, and a longing to find a way out.

Profound change.

So, for deep within that trench, I looked for light and asked for help. Getting medicated, getting some counseling, and reading about and reflecting on the grief and its sources, I felt I had made some progress towards climbing out of this hole - perhaps a glimmer at the end fo the cliched tunnel.

Then, two weeks ago, Dad was hospitalized with some minor chest pain and needing to be dialyzed in-hospital and off-schedule due to widespread power outages in our area that included his normal dialysis center.

When Dad got back from hospital, he confided in my that he was extremely fatigued, had been having trouble sleeping, and had been considering whether it was time to end this fight and go home. That statement came a bit unexpectedly, and the floor I thought was being rebuilt in my trench was immediately destroyed and I was back in the bottom of that trench.

Change.

I subsequently kept a previously-scheduled appointment with one of my counselors, which lasted all of 20 minutes and didn't go anything as I expected. In addition, I have been unimpressed with the second counselor, as the resource provided seemed to suggest that compartmentalization and separation from those "bad" feelings according to some "new-agey" strategy was a good thing - something already proven false in my case.

In the mean time, I identified the book "On Grief and Grieving" by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross and David Kessler. This resourse is organized to provide a framework of what grief might look like to some folks, and where you might want to look in your grief for underlying causes - and perhaps even some resolutions. Much more satisfying to my analytical brain.

But there was still a hole in this approach - what to do with those thoughts and feelings that pour out as this process continues. So, on the mower tonight, I was reminded that expressing some of that in writing and getting in out on this blog might be useful and cathartic. It has worked in the past in completely unrelated circumstances, so maybe it'll work now.

We shall see.