Category: stress

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When The Bough Really Does Break

The last 4 1/2 weeks or so have been crushing.  I didn’t fully understand the cumulative impact until this past Thursday.  And – because you will at some point encounter cumulative grief, I want to share my experience of the bough breaking.  If you have already experienced this, be on the lookout for it happening again in your own life, certainly, but pay attention to those around you who have not experienced it yet.  If it’s possible, be there for them. 

My breaking bough happened this past Wednesday night after my counseling class.  But before I explain what happened, here’s the timeline leading to that. 

On August 7th, I lost a dear woman that I used to sing with in choir and do bible study with in my former church in Missouri.  It was really difficult and heartbreaking that I could not travel back for the funeral.  The next one was particularly crushing. #1

On August 17th, I lost my best friend in the Air Force, a fellow Command Spouse, and heart of my heart in so many ways.  She was 4 years younger than me.  Oh – cancer, you are just so awful.  This one was and is very painful.  Sometimes it simply doesn’t seem real.  And yet – I was there for the visitation, the funeral, and the aftermath with the widower.  Heavy………..oh, so heavy. #2

Then September 6th, I lost a sweet gentleman that I used to sing with in choir and ensembles at my former church in Missouri.  UGH!!  Another choir member…………..  My heart broke and I grieved that loss……#3

September 7th, the husband of a co-worker at Altus AFB Chapel died from Covid.  He was a squadron member back when we were stationed in Altus.  53  Yeah………53.   #4

4. . . .count them, 4.  But that isn’t all that was happening.  

Afghanistan happened.  The mismanaged withdrawal happened.  Leaving Americans happened.  Loss of 13 servicemen happened.  Memories from the past 20 years……………….knowing they all/ we all made a difference……… but I’m upset and angry over how this has been executed.  It’s a different kind of grief….but grief nonetheless. And pre-grief – – for what this is setting in motion – terrorist events yet to be. 

Finally, there’s my biblical counseling class on Wednesday nights.  The section we have been covering is on marriage.  Honestly, for the most part it has been ok.  I’ve looked at it academically and keyed in on pivotal verses from scripture that not only show us how we are to live as husbands & wives, but as believers – Christ followers.  This past Wednesday night was the final module in the section.  

There was not specific trigger.  Nothing in particular was hard to hear.  But I believe the cumulative pile of grief was pushed over the edge with all the marriage do’s & don’ts talk.  About 3/4 through the class I felt it coming.  Eyes began to tear and the pain in my chest was becoming unbearable.  The bough was about to break. 

No, I told God.  Not here, not now.  Lord, help me hold it together till I can get out of here.  And He did.  God is so faithful.  He continues to rescue me from tangible as well as intangible.  

I made it to my car and then water started flowing out of my eyes.  My heart felt physical pain.  I was feeling crushed – completely crushed.  I drove all the way home………crying.  And it continued for awhile.  The bough broke.

Sleep didn’t come easy, even though the crying had stopped.  I wasn’t depressed.  My heart hurt and felt heavy.  Reading wasn’t easy either.  And I didn’t want to watch tv.  So I laid there and prayed, I poured out my heart to God and cried a bit more.  I’ve learned that in the arms of Jesus is the only truly safe place I can do this.  It is the only place I feel comfort.  He is my strong tower and I run to Him.  He would walk me through this intense grief and bring me out on the other side.  I’ve walked this before with Him.  I knew He was the only unchanging, faithful One who could get me through.  

And He did.  I finally fell asleep and woke up at my regular time without the alarm.  A short night.  I thought to myself, I will need to catch a power nap today.  But you know what?  I didn’t.  My heart wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t heavy anymore.  My thoughts were clearer and I was again walking in strength and confidence.  

This blog isn’t Christian faith focused, but I’m making an exception in this post.  My faith is the reason I have not only survived, but moved forward better than I ever thought possible.  My faith is the foundation upon which I stand.  And – statistics prove that a person of any kind of faith, meets life’s challenges & tragedies better than one with no faith, no hope.  I have faith.  I have hope – a know-so hope, not a hope-so hope. 

I’m not talking religion.  There are those who try to put me in a box and say I am “religious”.  I’m not religious, I’m faithful.  I have a relationship, not a religion.  The denomination where I attend is not the denomination I have always attended.  I’m a Christ-follower.  I adhere, for the most part, to a schedule for worship and participating at my church, but I’m not there every time they open the door.  I’m not checking off to-do boxes, I’m participating in corporate worship, private worship, and ministering to the body of Christ.  It is a lifestyle of faith. 

Why am I pointing this out?  Because I fully believe that when the bough broke Wednesday night, it was God’s grace.  He knew I needed a safety valve to open and vent off the overwhelming sadness and pain that was captured inside me.  Grief is work, and this was some work I needed to do.  The tears I cried are tears I won’t have to cry again.  The tears of the future are different. Their healing part is yet to happen. 

In addition, I want you to understand that on this side, I am thankful for the crushing break of the bough Wednesday night.  I want you to see that terrible pain can lead to wonderful healing and greater insight.  I believe it also gives you what you need not just for today, but for your future breaking boughs.  And – – – it puts you in a position to help someone you see whose bough is breaking.  You have credibility because you have been through it.  God doesn’t waste anything………….the comfort you have been given is to be passed on.  (2 Corinthians 1)

Take heart dear one.   You are not alone in the bough breaking moment.  If you have never reached out to the One who died for you, I encourage you to do it.  Give Jesus a chance.  In this life, He is the only One who will never, ever change and who will always & forever walk this with you.   

Peace & Blessings

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I’m Tired Of Being Brave

Bravery Fatigue – that’s what I have going on these days.  You too??

I’m not sure, but I think this bravery fatigue might be somewhat cumulative.  Then again, I believe it’s intensified because of the pandemic.  Goodness – this pandemic has fatigued everyone for one reason or another.  We are all tired. . . so tired. 

My story – 6 1/2 years long at this point. . .emphasis on the word long.  And even as I write that, I know there are others widowed that have walked this grief journey a lot longer.  I salute all of you !!

We, the widowed, have to make life decisions – decisions so very gigantic – we make them alone for the first time in our adult life.  I am ever grateful that God helped me remember the logistics of past life decisions my husband & I made over our 37 1/2 years together.  I’m also very thankful for the people with specific expertise along the way.  I believe God had us cross paths in order to add to my wisdom quotient.  Believe me, I needed it. 

This year is perhaps the straw that is breaking this camel’s back. 

In March, I moved from St. Louis, MO to Louisville, KY.  Mind you, that is after all the huge decisions & hurdles in 2019/early 2020 – deciding where to move, much downsizing, signing to begin building a home, deciding on a realtor, researching the market, vetting a mover, all the move prep – packing boxes, disassembling furniture, deciding what can go in my car/my friend’s car – oh and then the week of the physical move – physically exhausting. 

I get to Louisville and everything shuts down – everything. I can’t even see family for awhile.  

I’ve left my solid support system and am now living in the desert. 

Initially it didn’t bother me too much, but as things have dragged on with no end in sight. . . well, that wears on a person. 

Additional stress came after the physical move. . .selling my St. Louis home, closing out MO tax stuff for my business, starting up tax stuff in KY, and drivers license & plates (took    7 months). . .and much more.

And now, plowing into starting over, entering as a nobody – no one knows my history or anything I’ve done – not that I’m looking for any kind of fame – just credibility.

The worst part?  Not knowing what to do next.  God has been quite silent about this.  My head understands I can trust Him & that He has a plan.  My heart hasn’t caught up.  I like to say – I know God has a plan, I just don’t like this part. Truth. 

Please understand I don’t want to know the whole picture.  I’m just looking for direction for where to focus.  Maybe you are looking for that too.  Often on this journey, we find ourselves in the oddest of places, don’t we?

Focusing on the road before us as widows & widowers…and then  bravery fatigue.  We have been brave for so long.  We have stepped up, moved forward, made decisions. . .and we are tired. 

So I’m talking to me as much as I am to you. We get each other.  We understand where others outside of our walk do not. 

Find strength in calling it what it is.  This really does help.  And then lay down your sword for a few – a few minutes, hours, days.  Then pick it back up and take a step forward.  Even when we don’t know what’s next we can do what we know – right here, right now. 

Me?  I’m going to focus on my writing.  While I do that, I’ll keep listening for God’s voice – His prompting.  I’m going to trust – believe – hope. 

That’s what I offer to you friend. 

Lay down your sword – rest – pick it back up – take a step – do what you know – listen for God’s prompting. 

My dear fellow grief travelers. . .I’m sending you peace & blessings.

 

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Do The Next Right Thing

Currently I’m attending a local Griefshare group at my church.  It’s a wonderful small group that is a safe place.  How important it is to have a safe place to question, vent, share, and listen.  

The Griefshare ministry is video driven with a workbook that is done during the week.  It is thoughtfully laid out and even has scripture written out right there on the page, which helps so much.  Another thing I appreciate is the larger font they have used.  It’s not so much an age thing as it is a bereavement thing.  I don’t know about you, but I like a little larger font when I’m a bit bleary eyed.

In a recent video, one of the folks sharing about their grief journey spoke about how when we are overwhelmed with all that needs to be done, that it’s helpful to just do the next right thing.  I love that!!  And this is why I’m writing today’s post.  I want to share that great thought with you.  

Coincidentally, there is a podcast I listen to called, The Next Right Thing by Emily P. Freeman. I mention that in case you may have heard of it.  Great podcast, by the way, and I’ve found it helpful on my grief journey.  Just know that it’s for everyone and not focused on bereavement.  Emily is so good at helping us simplify our every day, our thoughts etc.  And as you have probably realized, that helps when grieving.  

But on to the reason for this post. 

When grieving, we get overwhelmed, upset, stuck, and so many other things.  It is this particular subject that the Griefshare video was addressing.  Sometimes we come to a place where we don’t know what to do, what step to take.  That’s when I think it’s important to do the thing right in front of you – do the next right thing. When we do just that one thing, it can help us feel ready to do the next thing, and the next, and the next. 

Sounds so simple, but as you know, when we are grieving – it’s NOT!  Taking that next step requires an act of the will.  You won’t want to do it, but once you take that one step forward, you will see significant benefits – sometimes right away, and sometimes once you have completed that next thing.   

It’s a feeling of accomplishment.  It’s one less thing on the long list of things to do.  And once it’s done, go ahead and take pride in it.  If you are a list maker like me, getting that one thing done will help you feel just a bit better.  Note – I’m sorry for using the word better, but it’s the word in the English language that describes it best.  We both know that better takes awhile, so please understand that I’m not rushing you.  

So dear friend on this grief journey with me – take heart, take a deep breath – and do the next right thing.

I know I’m stepping out on a limb here, but I sincerely believe you will be glad you did.

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Permission to rest. . . . . .

If you read the previous posts, you know that I moved from MO to KY – 4 months ago.  It was certainly challenging, but I did it.  

Truth is, it’s been challenging and stressful for a year & a half.  It was even more crazy stressful the last 4 months.

As an Air Force wife for 23 years, I learned to cope with change and whatever difficulties came along.  I focused on what to do, and did it.  Maybe that’s how you tend to deal with challenges too.   

Well, I’ve realized that if the stress is prolonged, it can pile up……………snowball to levels hard to circumvent.  And that’s where I found myself about a week ago. 

I would like to say when I heard the doctor tell me I needed to apply some de-stressing tools and take a step back to rest, that it was the first time I had heard that.  But it’s not.

Honestly, dear friends had either said I needed to rest just as plain as that, or they had sweetly said they couldn’t imagine all I had been through so relaxing was indeed earned.  And I heard them, I really did.  But I didn’t take it to heart.  I just plugged on, resting here and there, but not really stopping the  motion and engaging in an extended rest. Well…………..I am now. 

I’ve started doing my yoga, which is amazingly helpful.  Just 24 minutes and I am seriously a different woman.  I’ve also stopped setting my alarm to get up in the morning, except for a day or two when I can’t.  I’ve intentionally spent more time praying and in my quiet time in the morning.  Days still have a list of a few things to do, but there’s no rush and I remind myself of that – – -often.  There is book reading………….I’m working on 3 books currently.  I’m going  through a Griefshare workbook with DVDs and getting a view of that program. I’ve also been better at walking & exercising which is great for lowering cortisol levels & pumping up endorphins.  Plus – and this one is so awesome –  I have been sitting on the back porch in the evening sipping an ice cold drink listening to the night things in the woods, looking at the sky……………sometimes thinking……………sometimes not.  Talk about unwinding!!  Sometimes I hate going inside to go to bed. 

This won’t be my life permanently, but my body was giving me clues that it had just about had enough.  My mind. . . my heart. . . I needed peace.  And maybe that’s where you find yourself too.  If you have been eyeball deep in grief for an extended period of time, dealing with so many decisions alone, or going through a major change like me, try to figure out a way you can at least jump off the merry-go-round for portions of time.  

I realize that not everyone can do this to the extent I’m able.  Sometimes life just has to move on and you may have family members with you that prevent you from truly coming away, but somehow you need to steal away to completely relax and replenish.  We were never meant to carry the loads given to us after our loved one’s death with no respite.  We have the heavy responsibilities once carried by two, now carried by one.  Most of the time we just roll, but don’t let yourself roll into a valley.  Leave the heavy stuff in the valley and walk up the mountain where the air is clear and you can breathe. Come up out of the fog and contaminated air where you can get the oxygen you need to think clearly. . . . where you can stop doing and just be.  We forget that who we are is  more important than what we do.  On the mountain you will remember. 

That doctor has no idea how pivotal his comments were to me.  It was the “ah-ha” moment that I needed.  He gave me permission to rest……………..he gave  me permission to be happy again – a different sort of happy than before my husband’s death, but happy.  I’ve never lost my deep down joy, but I most definitely lost my happy – and I know you have too.  

So I’m here as an outside voice, like my doctor was, telling you that I officially give you permission to rest – to really rest.  I’m not a doctor, but I have stayed at a Holiday Inn Express – – – – hahahahaha.  Anyway – as a pretend-doctor I prescribe a walk up the mountain for you.  Get the heck outta the valley and breathe some cool clean air.  Leave the to-do list behind, take a drink of your choice with you and just be………………….simply be.  Enjoy the silence, voice positive self-talk, read, nap, breathe……………..oh yes, breathe.  

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Unexpected stuff. . .think Bermuda Triangle.

What an ominous title, right?  

So continuing on the “moving” theme, let me share some unexpected stuff that has happened and is still happening.  Don’t let this discourage you !!!!  Not at all !!!   

I’m baring my heart to you, knowing that even in other circumstances & scenarios, someone widowed out there will understand.  This is also to give you a heads up.  I want to let you in on this so when it happens to you, you will think – hmm, Debbie went through something similar – and it’s going to be OK.

Let me state this again – – – – don’t be discouraged !!!  You will get through it and be ok.  I believe that we will all get through whatever this grief journey throws at us and we will actually be stronger. 

But in the meantime, here’s what I’ve been experiencing.  

As I wrote before, I moved from St. Louis to Louisville mid-March,  right at the very beginning of Covid.  And again – I don’t recommend moving during a pandemic.  But that’s where I’m coming from here. . .

The Bermuda Triangle idea didn’t happen right away.  First of all I spent 10 days unpacking, breaking down boxes and putting things away.  I was putting in 10 hour days and sleeping pretty long at night, which is a huge blessing for me.  Yes – at the beginning, I had lots to do, and emotionally I was happy to be in my new home.

However – – – as time went on, there were so many things that weighed heavily on me.  I was working with my realtor on selling my St. Louis house – during Covid – oh boy, not a fan.  I was spending hours & hours online researching house things to buy – rugs, shower curtains, bar stools, back porch furniture, front porch bench etc. etc.   I was dealing with the sadness of missing my previous home, neighborhood, church, friends. . . .   Also – I was experiencing deep grief over leaving my previous life behind – the one with my husband.  And – leaving him buried in the national cemetery in St. Louis.  Plus, how ironic!  I moved to be near family, but we couldn’t be together – because of Covid.  No hugs, no spending time together, and seeing my grandchildren only in my driveway with them buckled in their seats.  Heartbreaking. 

You see – it’s all the tangible and intangible things.  And they occasionally intersect in one common place……my Bermuda Triangle. 

There have been mornings that I sat in my glider rocker sobbing and pouring out my heart to God.  Any of the things going on in my Bermuda Triangle individually were not overwhelming.   Pile them all together – overwhelming.  

How grateful I am that this hasn’t happened a whole lot nor frequently.  But friend, can I just be honest here?  When it happens. . .oh my goodness, how awful.  Truly awful.  And crushing. . . 

One of the things each of us has experienced is crushing from grief.  Even though I’m 6+ years out from my husband’s death, I still have my moments.  Gosh I hope that’s not discouraging for you.  We all hope & pray that grief diminishes over time and isn’t so crushing.  I can say that it is indeed better, even though better isn’t the best word.  

Maybe in a strange sort of way, this post will be encouraging to you in this way.  You will know that someone else experiences this crushing from time to time.  It means you are normal !  Totally normal.  And from my perspective, that is so helpful.  I’m going. . .you are going. . . where we have never been before.  It’s meaningful to talk to someone who is further down the road.  Hopefully I can be that someone for you.  

As I write this, my St. Louis home is close to closing – Hallelujah !!!  But I’m still dealing with emails or phone calls where the realtor or person at the title company needs some sort of documentation etc. etc. etc. – so much etc. etc. etc.  And I’m still experiencing the grief of leaving a place that was home for 11 1/2 years, dear friends and the familiarity of so much.  It really does cause pain in my spirit to close this door, not only the physical move, but the door on my first life.  

I must also add that there is future uncertainty that feels daunting & just way too vague.  How do I figure out what I’m supposed to do in this next chapter?  I’m very much asking the question – what am I going be when I grow up?  Do I want to get a part time job?  And where in the world would I want to work?  I’m in a new city where I’m not connected yet. Or do I focus on writing, working at my online writing course and my blogs?  

As I look at all I just wrote, maybe the hardest part to it all is that nothing in my life, or anyone’s life, is normal right now.  Covid has really messed with normal ! I’m so thankful things are opening up and we are ramping back up, but the truth is, we are still in the thick of this pandemic where life is most definitely not normal.  

Gosh, I really need to land this plane.  And I’m sure you are hoping that I have some magical solution.  Alas, I do not.  

What I do have is a simple suggestion I read in a book somewhere that said it was greatly beneficial to write down positive things even in the midst of negative circumstances like my Bermuda Triangle.  

I have not written them down at this point, but I have taken the time to list them mentally.  It actually helps !  I remember an old hymn that says – Count Your Many Blessings, Name Them One by One.  That’s the whole idea – instead of focusing on the stress, the negative, the uncertainty – focus on the positive, the blessings, the good – the really good things that we all can list.  

Our loss doesn’t define us, yet it is part of who we are now.  But so many good things are happening even in Covid.  Let’s grab ahold of those wonderfully good things.  Let me help you just a bit by giving you a peek at a tiny part of my list. 

I’m thankful for:  family – near & far that I connect with in person but especially through use of technology,  Face Time  & Zoom calls,  a lovely new home,  selling my St. Louis house in less than a month,  dear friends that connect with me in several ways though not geographically close,  and time…………the spaciousness of time, which I have never had before – to figure things out, to sit quietly and ponder, to read books that I’ve had stacked for a long time, to try new recipes and get used to working in my new kitchen etc. etc. etc.  

Let’s try to do this – list the good and let that encourage your heart.  Then turn and battle the stressful and not so good.  

We can do this dear ones.  We really can.  We really will. . . . . . Hugs to every one of you.  Big virtual hug !!!!