some hard words about grief (from a Christian perspective)

first, i am a Christian.  i believe in the divinity of Jesus Christ and i believe that i will spend eternity with him in heaven.  i believe the Holy Spirit lives inside me.  i believe God is my Father and wants a relationship with me.

second, i believe that grief HURTS and that doubt is okay.  i believe that pain is real and that anxiety is not an affliction of the weak. 

third, i believe that as Christians we are guilty of using trite, feel-good expressions of support that undermine the grief people feel when they lose a part of themselves. 

in august 2015 my father was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer.  he lived 8 months and left this earth on april 14, 2016.  a little background:  i’m 42, single, never married, a college graduate, a small business owner, an animal lover, a music lover, a book hoarder (i own a used book store) and a terrible guitar player.  i’m a loner, a near-hermit, i can go days (weeks) without other people and as long as i have my pets and my books i’m fine.  this blog is my clumsy way of working though some of the things in my life post-flood, post-PTSD diagnosis, post-learning to live life with sometimes crippling anxiety.

daddy was my all-time favorite person.  i’m southern and we southern girls are born and raised to worship our daddies.  he wasn’t perfect but he was sure wonderful. he had 4 kids and he lived his life so that he could be there for us whenever and however we needed him. 

when he died i felt, and feel, utterly lost.  this world, which makes little sense to me anyway, makes NO sense now.  i was in the process of opening my bookstore in the last months of his life.  he wanted to see me open.  he didn’t but he did get to see the space and be there as we painted and prepared.  he saw pictures and was so thrilled for me.  i postponed the opening but was open about 3 weeks after his death. 

i now work 3 jobs.  since he died, i spoke at his memorial service, opened the store, moved, filed bankruptcy and finally had a break down.  a couple of weeks ago i had numerous panic attacks in a 3 day span and couldn’t get out of bed let alone get to work.  i spent those 3 days crying in bed and avoiding everything and everybody i could.  when asked, i told people i missed daddy so much i was physically sick.  what i heard was:  "he’s in a better place", "he was a Christian", "he was in pain – you wouldn’t want him back in pain would you?", "he loved you", "you’ll see him again", etc, ad nauseam. 

i know all these things.  what i want acknowledged is this:  when someone precious dies the person left behind grieves in their own way.  what i want people to hear is that all these things (while true) DON’T HELP ME AT ALL.  see, his pain in over BUT MINE ISN’T.  he’s in heaven, BUT I’M STUCK HERE IN THIS COLD, HARD WORLD WITHOUT HIM.  my grief is for ME.  yes, there are times when i grieve for the things he will miss – seeing his grandchildren grow up, seeing the new peyton manning commercial, seeing hillary clinton wipe up the floor with donald trump in november – but what i really grieve is what i lost. 

if i ever do get married, he won’t be with me, when i’m sick he’s not here to take care of me, when one of our favorite M*A*S*H episode is on I CAN’T CALL HIM!  I DON’T WANT TO HEAR how selfish i am to grieve.  grieving is not selfish, it isn’t weak.   it isn’t something to be glossed over by saying things like “it gets better.”  maybe it gets better for others but right now i can’t guarantee it’ll get better for me.  he’s only been gone 5 months and i have every right to feel how i feel. 

again, if you don’t know what to say, just say, “i’m sorry.”

i will glory in seeing daddy in heaven but while i’m still on this hostile planet i will miss him every day.  i will grieve for what i lost. and i damn sure won’t apologize for it.

grace and peace and grief

watch your mouth

just can't help but write about an interaction i had with a lady in the bookstore today.  she was talking to her friend and me about a trip she took and the friend asked, "when?"  she responded, "the same time as the nashville flood.  when was that?"  i said, "may, 2010" and she looked at me like i had 2 heads.  i said, "i lost everything in that flood."  she then looked at me with pity and said, "at least you were able to rebuild." 

now, how she knew i was able to rebuild and why she thought it was okay to assume such a thing is baffling.  i said, "it's only stuff, right?"  she quickly agreed and then sensed i was being facetious and added, "i'm sure it's more involved than that."  i replied, "if only it were as easy as replacing things."  she quickly went on with her story and talked about a few books, etc.

after she left i realized i was angry.  i've mentioned ad nauseam that the physical things aren't the hard things to replace.  i've not mourned one tangible thing i lost in the flood.  the things i mourn are intangible:  my safety, my sanity, my very self. 

the point of this post is a reminder that words matter!  please, if someone you know is going through something: something big, something small, something you've endured, something you find unimportant, please think before you speak!  the clichés:  "i know how you feel", "it's only stuff", "it'll get better", "you'll be fine", "they're in a better place" are unnecessary, unfeeling and sometimes downright untrue. 

if you don't know what to say, say, "i'm sorry."  simple.  say, "i don't know what to say, but i'm here for you."  perfect. 

more on words about grief tomorrow.

grace and peace

bankrupt

today was the "meeting of creditors" for my bankruptcy.  it took about 30 seconds.  i did have to watch a 12 minute video, answer about 6 "yes" or "no" questions and pay $7.00 for parking.  i only have a couple of creditors and no one expects to have a creditor show up.  none of mine did.  it's simple, really.

i have no embarrassment.  i only wish i had done it sooner.  i wish i knew the statistics (there really aren't any) about the number of natural disaster victims who file bankruptcy.  there appears to always be a spike in areas affected by disaster but because the filings take place over such a long period of time it's hard to quantify.  it took me more than 6 years. 

i bought the house in 2005.  in 2010 i had a good job, i didn't make a lot of money but i made enough.  the flood came and i lost it all:  job, car, house and everything in it.  i got some FEMA money but it just scratched the surface.  i did not live in flood zone so i had no flood insurance.  home owner's insurance not only denied a claim but cancelled my policy. 

i spent upwards of $65,000 (most of which was borrowed) to rebuild a house i despised.  i had nowhere else to go so i did what i had to do.  i got a lot of help from family, church and friends but it was just a drop in the bucket. 

i worked 12-16 hours a day for 5 months to rebuild.  i was diagnosed with PTSD and suffered from debilitating agoraphobia (i was terrified to leave the very house that i hated.)  something that still rears it's ugly head more often that i like to talk about.  i was out of work for more than 2 years.

when i went back to work i made less than half my pre-flood salary.  now, i work 3 jobs and make less still.  for the last 4 years i have been spending more than 50% of my income on the mortgage.  when daddy died i decided to quit.  i filed bankruptcy shortly thereafter and left that house behind. 

i'm blessed enough to have access to a family home that was sitting empty afer it was left to my mother by her aunt.  i live here now and while it's hard to get over the feeling that i live in somebody else's house it's far and away an improvement.  i live far away from all 3 jobs so i spend a lot of time in the car and a lot of money on gas but, right now, it's worth it. 

i still have school loans that i will owe the rest of my natural life (those, of course, aren't dischargeable.)  other than that i have a clean slate.  the mortgage company will apparently give the option to sign over the deed to avoid a foreclosure.  i will take them up on it.  i can't wait for the day i can honestly say that i no longer "own" that awful house.  for the time being it's still mine but i'm under no obligation to pay anything.  i've officially "surrendered" the property.

i wish daddy were here to talk to about this.

grace and peace

catching up

haven't felt like writing for a while.  life is exponentially different these days. 

my wonderful daddy died in april.  for so long my life has been defined by "before the flood" and "after the flood" but now it's "before daddy got sick" and "after daddy got sick."  he was the most important person in my life.  having him gone has opened a whole in my heart that can't be closed. 

he went to the ER on august 20, 2015 and was diagnosed with lung cancer before that day was done.  he lived 8 months.  they were a hard but wonderful 8 months.  i miss him every minute of every day! 

since then i've undergone many a change.  i opened a business (a used bookstore) i moved, i filed bankruptcy, i started a new job, i asked God to let me go to heaven to be with daddy, i asked him to have my business succeed, i asked him to show me how to live a life without daddy on this earth.  i seem to ask him something new everyday but as long as i'm talking to him i have faith that he will provide.

i don't know what life is supposed to be.  is it supposed to be a series of traumas to survive?  is it supposed to be a choice between the lesser of two evils?  is it supposed to be pain on top of pain?  i don't know.  i know that scripture tells us that hard times WILL come.  we aren't supposed to go through life pampered and pain-free.  the pain that comes is supposed to test us and make us rely on God.  i hope that i've done that. 

i know my faith is strong.  i know my daddy would want me to keep going.  i know that i will.

grace and peace.

good riddance

tonight is the last night i will sleep in this house.  i’m moving to a house my great-aunt left to my mother in 2013.  it’s not where i want to live but it’s infinitely better than living here.  in hindsight i wish i had not rebuilt the blasted thing after the flood. 

because i’ve recently opened my own business and because daddy died in april and because my money has run out i’m done paying for this place.  since the flood i’ve spent more than 50% of my salary on my mortgage (before utilities) i can no longer afford it and i’m past ready to be out of here.

i’d like to think that some of my anxiety will lessen when i no longer have to come home to the place where my trauma happened.  i expect to always experience some anxiety, as PTSD never goes away completely, but i think being away from here can only help.

i’m faced with the possibility of bankruptcy and having to get a “real” job while somehow still keeping the bookstore open (with the help of my mother who works for me a day or 2 a week for free!) but i think i can avoid foreclosure by letting the bank sell the house through a short sale.  since the flood the house has lost so much of its value that i owe a good deal more than it’s worth so the possibility of me selling it is nil.

i’m outta here tomorrow with the pets and then my brother and i will move the big stuff (bed, dresser, dining room table) later this week.  the rest of the stuff:  all the other furniture, dishes, small appliances will go in the front yard for a yard sale when i can manage it.)  the large appliances—only 6 years old, like everything else I own—will live in my brother’s barn until i need them.

i hope i feel relief.  i can’t imagine what that must feel like.  i know i won’t feel any regret about leaving here!

i wish i weren’t having to do this without daddy!  he would know what to say to make it feel better (at least for minute.) 

grace and peace and goodbye!

6 years and counting

today is the 6th anniversary of the flood.  the day that changed my life beyond compare.  the day that i morphed into a jumpy, scared, fundamentally anxious ball of nerves.

today is worse in that daddy isn't here to comfort me.  i haven't been able to blog about the loss of my dear, sweet father - he's been gone less than 3 weeks.

i'm 2 days away from opening my own business, the dream of my lifetime, and he's not here to share that day either.  he was able to see the store and participate in the planning and the preparation.  last may 2 he came to my work to visit and check on me.  i faced today without him and it HURTS!

i'm tired and anxious and weepy.  i have lots of last minute things to do tomorrow and i just want to hide.  i want to stop, to shut down to hibernate. 

i want my daddy!

bone tired

because i sleep so little my body finally has to tell me when to stop.  i have no choice because it does the stopping for me.  for a solid week i've been so tired i'm unable to think, read or do much of anything at all. 

i go to work (where it's very slow this time of year) and make it through the day but that's all the energy i have.  today is my day off and i've hardly moved.  i need 6 months of sleep.  at least.  i should have done a handful of things today both inside and outside the house but i didn't. 

life of a chronic insomniac.  it's no fun.

grace and peace

mourning david bowie

when i was young, 7 or 8, my older brother and i spent a lot of time listening to the beatles, the beach boys, jan and dean.  we loved music.  we both still do.

as i became a teenager and things at our house became harder and scarier we took refuge in music often, if not always.  we listened to all kinds.  i particularly took to prince, the stones and led zeppelin.  i can say with absolute certainty that led zeppelin saved my life on numerous occasions.  in high school and college it was U2, pearl jam and a lot of the beatles (always a mainstay).  i still love all these bands. 

after the flood, in the early days of PTSD and exhaustion, i had no TV and no internet.  all i did was listen to music.  the first cd i replaced after the flood was david bowie.  i was listening to all kinds of people along with those listed above, among them:  carole king, blondie, queen, sam cooke, sinatra, elvis, adele, springsteen.  but i listened to bowie EVERY DAY.  every single day.  

on the days that i was too terrified to even open the front door, let alone go out to walk the dog, i played bowie on the turntable.  on the few days i was confident enough to take a long walk i listened to bowie on my ipod.  on the days i was able to go somewhere i listened to bowie in the car. 

bowie saved my life.  when i heard about his death on monday i was crushed.  not having known he was sick it was such a blow.  i ache for his family.  i mourn for a world without him.  selfishly, i mourn for a man i didn't know but that saved me.

RIP starman!

empathy and sympathy

when i was a teenager my house was not a happy one.  i relied on friends for a lot.  one friend in particular who lived fairly close by.  her father was the chief of police in our small town.  i spent an awful lot of time in her house.  they fed me when there wasn't food in my house, they were kind to me when there was no kindness in my house, they treated me like i was one of them when there was no place for belonging in my house.

i mourn with my friend today.  her daddy died of cancer today. 

watching my own daddy go through all he's been through in the last 4 1/2 months with cancer makes it hit even closer to home.

thank you, dean, for everything.  RIP