Reminiscing on a Loss

The one year anniversary of my grandmother's death is approaching. I didn't realize it at first, but I think that explains the unexpected moments of weepiness I've been having this week. A year ago at this time, I was spending evenings and many days at a local nursing home, eating a lot of fast food dinners, crying and remembering with family and feeling the sadness of impending loss. I began 2013 with my grandma's death on the horizon. It was a difficult way to begin a year.

And yet, the year became one of hope, positive change, and possibilities. I'm hoping for a continuation of what's begun as 2014 rolls around.

But for tonight, I'd like to take a much needed moment and share some of my thoughts from a year ago at this time. I'm glad that I shared many of them on Facebook so I can look over them again now. So here are my previous and current thoughts.

"Some things worth mentioning: my grandma's health is failing quite dramatically. It's likely not long that she'll be with us. I'm having a difficult time processing the new year (newness, hope, openness, possibilities) with the inevitable loss of a loved one. I am still finding hope in my ever-present search for gratitude. I feel blessed being surrounded by family, sharing my life with my loving husband, when joining in laughter with friends, and receiving a kind and meaningful gift from a coworker. So far, a pensive 2013." Although this year clearly started out with difficulty, I'm thankful that I still made time for uncovering gratitude. I wish I had written down what the thoughtful gift was because I truly can't remember it. But I do remember feeling like care and compassion was coming at my family from all sides.

"Thank you all for your love and support. My grandma died peacefully earlier tonight. We feel very loved and cared for." I remember sharing this very soon after she died. I also remember that though I needed to share it with my friends, that it was too soon for some of my family to have everyone know. I became more conscious of sharing statuses that affected so many others.

"Wow. So many visitors and so much food at my mom's house. Wonderful to have so many loving and caring people in our world. Thank you!!" It was overwhelming. I'm a caregiver by career and my mom one by nature. We both had to step aside and allow ourselves to be loved, supported, and held up when we're used to doing that for others. Our helpless vulnerability became an opportunity to be recipients of love.

"On the night my grandma died, I sang old hymns to her. Then later my mom asked if I could say a prayer for her. She realized that a pastor had been out to visit with the family, but hadn't actually said a prayer with grandma. It was an emotional and touching moment to be able to pray for my grandma with my mom, my aunt, and my husband. She died less than an hour later. I will hold this as a treasured memory and I wanted to share it with my Facebook family." Of all my memories from a year ago, this is one of the most difficult for me to remember. It was so sacred; so beyond the mundane. It moves me to tears even now because it was a rare moment when all my "selves" combined. My Chaplain-self and my granddaughter/daughter/wife/niece-self joined to provide a spiritual need. I don't know if my grandma heard me singing to her. But my family did. And we held hands and cried together and felt deep feelings together. This is the moment I have been needing to remember, but it's also the one I've been dreading because of the depth of emotion stirred by remembering.

"Working on the draft for my grandma's service. Another way being a Hospice Chaplain has helped me. My brother and cousin are working on the words they want to read. I'm going to try to sing and read the letter to my grandma I wrote in my last blog. It'll be hard for all of us, but hopefully cathartic too." It was not my original intention to draft the service. But the process turned out to be very healing for me. And I did make it through both singing and speaking. I remember being much more nervous about the singing, because so many of my family members didn't even know I could sing. But in the end, speaking my own words was the much more trying task than singing those written by someone else. I remember having to take a moment, breathe through the knot in my throat, and continue on. After the service, I overheard one of my cousins talking on the phone to someone. He said the service was so sad! By his tone, however, he meant it as a compliment because he, and many others, thought that three of the grandchildren participating was very special. I think we would have made my grandma proud.

"We made it through my grandma's funeral service. It was beautiful and personal. So many family and friends gathered from all over the place! Thank you so much to everyone who came. You surrounded us all in love. Now we're spending time with family and enjoying great memories and yummy food." The same week as my grandma's service, I attended the funeral of a Roman Catholic patient of mine. My patient's service was almost entirely scripted from a Roman Catholic worship book. I think it was meaningful for the family, but the five minutes or so spent actually talking about the patient didn't feel like enough for me. I'm proud of the approach and time given to my grandma's service. It was certainly what we needed it to be.

"Thank you everyone for all the love and support. And especially thank you to Kody Kinsley, Kt Cassady, Robin Buzzeo, and Tracy Hawkins for the texts and calls. It's been wonderful to feel so loved." And I certainly did feel loved every day. I have some of the most wonderful friends ever. It's a gift to have them and another gift to be so aware of how deeply blessed I am. It's also wonderful that these friends are enduring souls in my life. They, along with Dan, have been sources of inspiration, laughter, support, silliness, and hope.

"I find that 'firsts' after someone dies are significant and sad. Even though it's been several weeks, I'm still seeing some people for the first time since my grandma died. They ask about her, I share, then I have to shed some tears to recover from another 'first.'" This post was brought on by someone at my work. We work for the same company, but not very closely. We ran into each other in the office and she very kindly asked, "How's your grandma?" It was at a time when I finally thought everyone knew she had died, so the question knocked the wind out of me and brought me up short for a moment. I had to go back to my desk and cry for a bit until I was able to temper my emotions.

"Making my grandma's soup tonight. Turns out my mom had the same idea and she made it tonight too!" We were surprised when we did this! I felt connected to my mom that we both thought to honor her mom the same night in the same way.

Here are some other ways my grandma was honored and remembered:

Right after Christmas, and right before grandma died, I printed a copy of the group photo of our family on my grandma's 87th birthday. I didn't know at the time quite how soon she was going to die, so these photos became extra special and well-timed.

My mom and I shared a special day together celebrating Mother's Day - her first since her mom died. We got dressed up and went to the Wilmington Tea Room. Without planning ahead, we wore our matching dogwood necklaces. Hers belonged to her mom. I found mine in the NC mountains very likely made by the same designer. Now, when we get together for mother-daughter dates, we often wear them.

Most recently, I made special ornaments for Christmas for my mom and aunt. Below are photos of my mom and aunt opening their gift and then a closer photo of the ornaments themselves.

We've made it through many firsts this year. I'm hopeful about 2014. And I'm grateful for all the love I have in my life. If you've made it to the end of my blog, thank you so much for sticking with me. Please feel free to leave me comments and thoughts.

With love,

Kelley

The "Storyteller" Assignment

Today's chapter with Ms. Cameron was short and to the point. Stop straining so hard to make a story up! Settle down, chill out, and listen for the story that's ready to be told through you. I've heard this described on many occasions in various expressions, but usually it sounds something like this, "It was as though the story was already formed and I was just there to write it down." The image I have here is a tornado of words and images swirling high above a receptive writer. I picture myself flying down headfirst with their stories in a furious spiral toward the writer, eventually crashing with their pen as it flies across the page! It's all rather adventurous!

Frankly, I've been skeptical of this concept. The story as an almost separate being simply out to find the right conduit? Or perhaps envious is more accurate. Either way, I have not experienced this personally. If it really is a true experience and really does exist for some people, why not me? Julia Cameron suggests it's because I'm trying too hard to create impressive words all on my own rather than listening to what's around me. I'm going to give this a shot. Maybe I'll carve out some time this weekend to just...be...and listen. We'll see what comes from it. She suggests letting go so the creative process can work in and through you. I shall try. As Barney, from "How I Met Your Mother" might say, "Challenge accepted!"

The writing assignment from this chapter is as follows: "Pretend that you are sitting under a large tree with your back resting on its trunk. On the other side of the tree, a Storyteller sits also resting against the tree trunk. Take a sheet of paper and number from one to five. Tell the Storyteller five things you'd like to hear stories about." I've decided to type my list here rather than write them in my notebook. So here they are:

1. I'd like to hear a story about the diligent and hard-working person who is hopeful about a life filled with more meaning. I want to hear a story about how opportunity finally knocked for them and new hope was born as they skipped along toward their happy ending.

2. I'd like to hear a story about the committed and loving couple who, having longed for a child for years, finally have their dreams realized in a sweet, healthy addition to their family.

3. I'd like to hear a story about an adventurous woman who traveled the world in search of new experiences and opportunities to bring love and peace into a hurting world.

4. I'd like to hear a story about a child who opened the hearts of adults by being loving, kind, and unwilling to accept the boundaries and walls we create in adulthood.

5. I'd like to hear a story about the family that loves each other no matter what and that, rather than avoiding the difficulties of life, face them together through love, support, and encouragement.

Okay, so one thing is for sure from my list. I like my happy endings. As a friend just wrote today, "I don't need art to imitate life. I want a movie with a damn happy ending....tied up neatly." Well apparently, so do I. it also seems to be a theme that I don't necessarily need the whole story to be sugarcoated. But I am a fan of love, peace, hard work, hopefulness, and positivity winning out in the end.

I also see that none of the stories I want told are entirely new. I can think of several stories already out there that would fit into one of more of these categories. But still, it was a cathartic and energizing process to write them down for myself. Maybe I'll settle more into these ideas when I sit back this weekend and allow the process of creativity to lead me where it chooses.

More to come!

Blessed be,
Kelley

Being Someone's "Angel"

Recently, I was sitting with one of my hospice patients who told me she wanted to spend our time together watching "The Price is Right." Works for me! She made a specific request, and I got to fulfill her wish. This particular episode was entirely for nurses. Every person in the audience was a nurse. Most of you out there probably know that Drew Carey is now the host. As each person who became a contestant came down he would ask them what type of nursing they were in. One of the ladies said she was a hospice nurse. It was the first response to which he showed more than a little interest and he responded with something like, "Aw. My mom was on hospice and was taken care of by people like you. You guys are angels."

There it is. "You guys are angels."

Then another day recently, I saw a homeless man on the side of the road. My heart breaks every time this happens. I don't know what put this person there, but I'm more likely to assume it's systemic in its cause. So I bought him dinner and brought it to him. His name was Tom and he thanked me deeply and sincerely. Then he added, "I was praying God would send me an angel and then you showed up."

There it was again. Being someone's angel.

Today, I was visiting a patient I hadn't seen for several weeks. We sang old hymns together and I read to her from verses of the Bible she requested. She told me stories from her life and I sat there, trying to make out her words which are often soft and difficult to understand. As I was about to leave she held my hand, squeezed it with her fading strength and said, "You're my angel." It choked me up.

To her, I was her angel.

A phrase that I used to just brush aside with an embarrassed "thank you" has now stuck with me and has made me wonder: what are the qualities that make someone an "angel" to someone else?

I think kindness and compassion are two of the largest pieces. To be gentle, caring, and willing to sit and listen. To hold someone's hand who's feeling lonely or afraid. To make someone smile and laugh. To share yourself with them and make a deep, abiding connection. To give out of love and compassion. Maybe these are some of the characteristics of a modern-day angel. They seem to be what has brought forth this sweet description lately. I appreciate things that help me embrace the simple/deep/wonderful connections that I find the most valuable. I will continue to think about what it means to be someone's angel. But I will choose not to overthink it and lose the beauty and sweetness of the compliment.

I want to close out this entry with one of my favorite quotes. I think it's another worthy reminder of what is good, and lovely, and true:

“To laugh often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson


Blessings,
Kelley