Getting Through It

Do you know the bear hunt song? I’m guessing if you currently have or have ever had little kids, or just a decent memory, it’s somewhere in your brain. It’s a fun little sort of game/song where you pretend to go on a “bear hunt” and you encounter all sorts of obstacles. For each one, you say “Can’t go over it. Can’t go around it. Can’t go under it. Better go (or swim or whatever you need to do to surmount it) through it.”

That’s where I’m at with Mom’s death. I can’t do anything but go through it. There’s no shortcut on this one. And in the last two weeks I’ve learned more about sadness and grief than I ever wanted to. The initial parts were so shock filled and all-consuming. Later, I was better able to keep it together, but I’d crack when I could … like at night in bed or in the shower. Now I’m more even keeled except when “things” come up – Mom’s last paycheck, a pair of sandals that she gave me that are almost worn out, or choosing a different emergency contact for Tabby’s Spanish class – that make me tear up. I’m guessing it will be like this for a long time and I’m guessing I’ll have some even bigger ups and downs.

The thing that’s helping me the most right now is routine, or as much of it as I can handle. I’ve been at work all week, successfully even, and doing stuff with the kids. They have lots of lessons and activities that keep us busy. TV doesn’t hold much interest for me, but housework is an OK distraction. I haven’t been to the gym or gone running in a while, mostly, I think, because being somewhat depressed is making me tired. I want to get back to it soon, but I don’t know when it will feel right. Being around people is nice and I enjoy seeing our friends and family. We’re going camping this weekend.

I don’t want to think about holidays or big “life events.” It’s too painful right now. I feel very lucky that I spent so much time with Mom and that she knew how much we all loved her, and I’m trying not to let regrets or whatifs cloud her nice memory, but they keep trying to crop up and that’s hard. My mom’s oldest sister bugged us about not being with her at the hospital the last night. It seems unlikely that would have changed anything and based on the information at hand it seemed totally unnecessary, but it does feel like something of a failing. I also hate that we’d been more busy this summer with work and camping. We’d still seen my mom and everyone a lot, but maybe not quite as much as “normal.” And then I kick myself about not recognizing signs that seems somewhat more clear in hind sight, but of course that’s hind sight.

I know that all I can do is go forward in the best way I know how, in a way that honors and preserves her memory. It’s easier some days than others though.