In February 2009 I had a car accident. I remember before the accident looking at the highway sign and knowing where I was when it happened. About nine months later while in a therapy session, my doctor knew I had not driven on that piece of highway. The answer was no. It was a sunny fall day, much like today and he told me that I should go and drive on that stretch of road.

I didn’t tell anyone, but off I went. Drove up to Stouffville and just as I was about to get on the 404 Black Eyed Peas I’ve got a feeling came on the radio. Feel good song seemed to work with the timing. As I drove on the highway I passed the sign I looked back in the rear view mirror. I remember thinking literally and figuratively that this part of the story is now behind me. In my rear view. It did take time to mentally recover from the accident, but actually doing the drive put some real distance between the event and the process towards moving forward.

Heath lived in a very small town in rural Oklahoma. For someone who has always lived in a big city, Wanette Oklahoma is as far away from a big city as you can get. But Heath loved it and was proud of his home town. It is about an hours drive from the city to his town. Most nights we would spend his drive home on the phone. Conversation consisted of mundane things mostly about what we did during the day, work, etc. Because he had to drive to any given town in his area to get anything done it usually involved places on the road between here and there.

After the weekend in Oklahoma city we were on the road back to Dallas to come home. I was sitting in the front seat and as we drove by the highway signs, we passed all the familiar places, Ada, Norman, Pauls Valley and more. I was quietly thinking about all the conversations we had about living where Heath lived. As each town sign passed by me I was very aware that this would most likely be the last time I am in this area. There was a finality to the car ride, the weekend and part of my grief process.

When I arrived at Dallas airport and said goodbye to my friends I went inside to check in and it really hit me. This is part of the closure process. It was true. When I booked my ticket to go I had four weeks. Then three, then it was here. Then it was done.

Much like my car accident, celebrating Heath’s birthday and life is now part of my rear view mirror. It took a couple of weeks to get back to the healing place I was in before I left for Oklahoma. Checking in your rear view mirror gives you perspective while driving, keeping you safe and making sure you are taking care while driving. Same thing applies during grief, you can reference your past and the memories and experiences you shared with your loved one, all the while helping you work through what you need to be safe and taking care of while you heal.

Keep checking your rear view mirror,

Live your best life,

Lisa

To say that the last couple of months have been a challenge for me would be an understatement. More than a couple of months, since May actually. Since May up to two weeks ago, there have been seven deaths that have affected me and the friends and family around me. Yeah, I know, that is a lot.

While I appreciate that some of the folks were my parents generation, which I do not consider ‘older’.  The age ranges are as diverse as the people who are no longer with us. All of them had medical issues. I think that is something to take a pause. There are obvious medical issues, perhaps being in hospital and then there are the invisible medical issues, that you can’t see, but are lying there, just under the surface, but equally as fatal. The end is the same, no matter how the game is played.

My mom reached out to one of her friends whose husband passed away. I think she phoned once and then sent an email. The friend replied that she wasn’t talking to people on the phone just yet. This happened in mid July. Within a few weeks I understood what she meant on a whole other level.

As I have discussed in previous posts, I am struggling with the concept of time. I know that every 24 hours I am another day through this process, but there are parts of every day where it feels like I am frozen and cannot figure out how to navigate the pathway forward.

A friend sent me a message today, and it started with “Hello my dear friend….how are you doing”. It is such a hard question to answer. The words no longer flow with ease. Every sentence is a process to ensure that I can answer without getting emotional. Thankfully this question was asked via message so I can type the words. It is hard to speak the words.

I answered in this message that grief is lonely. It is exactly that. I told my mom the other day that when I am in my apartment, puttering around, listening to music or the white noise of the tv in the background I am okay. That I understood why her friend isn’t ready to talk.

I will tell you, even when the words are hard to find, there is something wonderful in the people that check in on you. A simple text, email or private message really helps the long days. I know that not everyone knows what to say.  I know that makes it hard to pick up the phone or send the texts or private Facebook message.  If you are thinking should I or shouldn’t I, I would ALWAYS say, you should. Even if you don’t know what to say. Heck, I don’t even know what to say. It sucks in every way possible.

And it going to suck, for a very very long time.

Those are all the words I have for now.

Live your best life,

Lisa

In my life, I am blessed to have friends from many different walks of life. Many of my friends are Jewish which we loving refer to as the MOT (Members of the tribe) and many are not. I am often asked about our ‘rules’, customs, traditions. I am always open to sharing what I know and when I don’t I try to find out. Heath and I talked a lot about our different traditions, the Mitzvah’s. Our most fun discussion was always food, and our food ‘restrictions’. I will save this for another time.

Arriving at this week I am very aware of the fact that is now more than 30 days (Sheloshim) since Heath passed. It is the period of time in Judaism where a mourner will start to go ‘back to normal’ life, professional and social activities with some limitations.

Very wise men long before our time put these principles of mourning in place for a reason. I struggle with Shiva, but understand its necessity as part of the process. Three days after Heath passed a friend came over to spend some time armed with shopping bags of fresh fruit, veggies, cheesecake (and wine). She knew I probably hadn’t been eating, which she would have been right. You need people to be around you. You can’t find the light through the darkness.

I had plans with friends for a day in Niagara for lunch, wine tasting and celebrations. Birthday, Anniversary and retirement. My friend lives in Vineland and I basically handed the plans to her and told her I would be driving our friends, but have no capacity to do any planning. She took care of all of it, and it was a great day. Food, wine, friendship, love and support. Who could ask for anything more.

This week it is back to work. Half days have now been moved back into full days. I am different. I am quieter. Like many of the millennials in my office, I spent the week with my ear buds in with my music doing my work. Even at our staff conference this week, I sat on my own, just being in my own space. Shared when I chose to, quiet when I didn’t.

I work at home on Fridays so I am in my space today, working and listening to music. made it through another week.

I want to reiterate again that where I work is a very special place on so many levels as I continue to discover. One department head who I have only met through email was introduced to me on Wednesday. He was so gracious as I helped him last year to get home to Atlanta in time for his father’s heart operation after he suffered a heart attack. (Irony not lost on me as I typed that). He was so kind and caring and asked if he could check in with me in a few days to see how I was doing. He did that today.

He also sent this poem. He said it helps him when he is struggling.

Refuse to Fall down

Refuse to fall down
If you cannot refuse to fall down,
refuse to stay down.

If you cannot refuse to stay down,
lift your heart toward heaven,

and like a hungry beggar,
ask that it be filled.

You may be pushed down.

You may be kept from rising.

But no one can keep you from lifting your heart
toward heaven only you.

It is in the middle of misery
that so much becomes clear.

The one who says nothing good
came of this, is not yet listening.

Clarissa Pinkola Estés, The Faithful Gardener: A Wise Tale About That Which Can Never Die

I wrote him back and said that the last lines are where I am right now.

The one who says nothing good
came of this, is not yet listening.

I am not yet listening, because I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that someone who was so good is gone.

Those are my lessons for today.

Live your best life,

Lisa