It's the end of February and my facebook memories have been flooded with posts from my husband's accident two years ago. 2016 was such a tough year. So much to heal from. In my last post, I shared a lot of the pain from losing my mom.
Lately I've been feeling like I'm waking up from a very long sleep. Grief has been so heavy. I'm finally starting to feel lighter. It's time to figure out life again.
I've been wanting to talk about healing. Healing within my family and in my own heart. Healing that has happened in the past two years.
I didn't talk much at all publicly about the hardships of my husband's accident. The after parts of it. His healing was overshadowed by my mother's illness. In Septmeber he had his last doctor's visit related to the accident. He has pain and swelling sometimes on his right side. This was where the worst of his injuries were, so it's not surprising, but absolutely frustrating. What we found out is that he has weakened adbominal wall muscles there and the swelling is excess fluid that develops if he stresses that area. He goes to the gym at least 4 times a week and regularly runs at least a mile and does heavy lifting, so it was swollen regularly. The doctor told him to avoid activities that would strech that particular area too much, such as golf or tennis, but other than that, to listen to his body. If he became swollen or sore after a certain activity, do it slower next time or avoid it all together. It's been a very big adjustment for him. He fears having to deal with this for the rest of his life. The risk is a hernia if he pushes himself too much. He's good at pushing himself too much. But he has been healing. He still gets sore, especially if he does something new, but he pushes through. He keeps going, then sits with ice packs when he gets home. He doesn't have as much swelling now. His pain levels are the same, but not worse. My prayer is that as he keeps going, those muscles can strengthen and the muscles around the area can strengthen and heal that area of his body. Another lasting effect is his lung capacity. Because there is scarring from his blood clot, he doesn't have full lung capacity anymore. He will get out of breath quicker and sometimes his chest gets tight. Another frustrating thing, but he pushes through that also. He doesn't let it stop him. He still works out and works out hard. He values his physical health, and I'm very proud of him! His mental and spiritual health are also healing. He had to face depression during his recovery time. He was never someone who felt weak or relied on others to do things he couldn't. Simple things like take out the trash. He wasn't allowed to lift anything over 10 pounds. He couldn't wrestle with Sam. He couldn't walk very far without having to stop to catch his breath. He had to sleep in a recliner because he wasn't able to sleep flat. If he laid down, it put too much pressure on his chest and he felt like he couldn't breath. If I moved next to him, he would tense up in anticipation of my bumping his side. He couldn't lay on his side because it was too painful. So he slept in a recliner for several months. With so many changes to life, he became depressed. He was distant and withdrew into himself. He felt hopeless. He felt nothing. He didn't care about anything. He wasn't able to. He became a master of self-loathing. I supported my husband however I could, but mostly I just understood. I have been through depression and was able to empathize with him and understand what he was going through. He had a support system. His younger brother completely changed his life to move in with us and help. He took over taking out the trash. He was able to start a life here in Lubbock because of all of that, but those first few months, his help meant everything. As my husband's physical healing happened, his mental and spiritual healing happened as well. The day he was cleared to start working out again was huge. It was so hard because he had so far to go to get back to where he was before the accident, but he's doing it. Two years later and he's back to running a mile in the same speed. He's lifting heavy weights again and he's lost the weight he put on during recovery. He wrestles with Sam. He takes out the trash. He further challenged himself with going though the academy and becoming a Deputy. He has worked so hard in the last two years. Harder than I've ever seen him work in his life. And it's finally paying off. He will be done with training in just a couple weeks. He is officially Deputy Recter. He looks amazing in his uniform. He cherishes the badge and what it means and the promise he has spoken. He is doing what he is meant to do in life, and doing it well.
During his recovery time and my pregnancy in 2016, I finally decided to step back from my responsibilities of taking care of my grandmother. Her health had continued to decline. She was completely bed-bound and her hands had closed almost completely, despite the medications, therapies, exercises and diet changes I tried to do. There is a mental and emotional demand caring completely for someone else that, bluntly, if you've never done it, you have no idea. Taking care of my husband and my son, worrying about my mother, and going through a difficult and high risk pregnancy was challenging in and of itself. My grandmother was often aggravated with me, but only me. In her times of confusion or hallucinations, I was the enemy. She became hostile towards me and nothing I tried to do to fix it helped. One time during a hallucination she believed I had killed a baby and put it in her lap and refused to take it away. Even when her home nurse got there and got her to calm down, she still believed that to be the truth. I battled guilt over not wanting to do it anymore. I had promised my grandfather before he died that I would take care of her. In the end, with my family's support, I realized that her health was also affected by being with me. After I started touring nursing homes, I saw how much better it would be for her also. They had equipment and facilities that I couldn't have. She was always in a better mood around outside people/help. I knew the importance of making that decision for my own little growing family and finally for her as well. It was a difficult decision, but it was another situation in my life I needed healing from. Caring for loved ones calls for a sacrifice and when it isn't appreciated and even the opposite, it hurts. There's a deep hurt there that is finally beginning to heal. I am outside of the situation now and am working on seeing the good in it. I spent 7 years caring for my grandparents and one day I know I will appreciate fully the life lessons I learned from it. I already appreciate the relationship I gained with my grandfather. Although he was difficult and we butted heads a lot, I've realized it's because of how much a like we were. I'm healing and learning how to see and appreciate the parts of them and that time in my life that I want to carry and pass on to my children.
Healing from grief has been the longest and most difficult healing I've experienced in life. I was no stranger to grief and death before I lost my mother, but there was nothing that prepared me for this. No other level of death or grief has even compared to the grief of losing her. For the first year after losing her, I had no idea how to live and function without her. So I barely did. I focused on necessities. I continued functioning daily to care for my family while fighting the urge to dig a giant hole to crawl down and lay in the bottom of. My healing in this has come from different things. God. People. Netflix. Moments. Peace in the knowledge that she's no longer suffering. Life has continued on around me and I have been allowed to stay in my little bubble. I have become so very aware of the people in my life who matter; Who love me and my husband and my children. I've surrounded myself with these good people and stepped back from the toxic. I am on facebook less and instagram more. I share my little life with choice people and stay away from the things that make me feel like this parenting thing is a competition. Well, really life in and of itself. I am learning to stop comparing my life to other people's lives. I love God more and more and value my relationship with Him like I never have. I'm cherishing listening to my son pray and the talks we have about Jesus and Heaven. I focus on the parts of my mom that I want to keep alive forever. I do her puzzles and find comfort in knowing that she touched each and every little piece. I listen to the music she loved and can remember the sounds of her singing along. My son talks about her more now and talks about things he remembers. I try to foster those memories and make it a priority to keep those memories alive for him. I focus on doing the things I wish she had done more, like writing more of my thoughts and taking more pictures of myself. People in my life have been helping me heal too. I have a friend who lost her mother also and we are a lot alike and it's been incredibly healing to be able to talk to her and know she understands me. I have my mom's sisters who regularly keep in contact with me. They send little gifts to my kids which seems small, but is huge. My mom loved to get little gifts for Sam. She would get him books and little things that she saw and made her think of him. She had even already gotten a few things for Joy, who wasn't here yet! My aunts have done amazing at taking over that, and they probably don't even realize it.
Lately I've been feeling like I'm waking up from a very long sleep. Grief has been so heavy. I'm finally starting to feel lighter. It's time to figure out life again.
I've been wanting to talk about healing. Healing within my family and in my own heart. Healing that has happened in the past two years.
I didn't talk much at all publicly about the hardships of my husband's accident. The after parts of it. His healing was overshadowed by my mother's illness. In Septmeber he had his last doctor's visit related to the accident. He has pain and swelling sometimes on his right side. This was where the worst of his injuries were, so it's not surprising, but absolutely frustrating. What we found out is that he has weakened adbominal wall muscles there and the swelling is excess fluid that develops if he stresses that area. He goes to the gym at least 4 times a week and regularly runs at least a mile and does heavy lifting, so it was swollen regularly. The doctor told him to avoid activities that would strech that particular area too much, such as golf or tennis, but other than that, to listen to his body. If he became swollen or sore after a certain activity, do it slower next time or avoid it all together. It's been a very big adjustment for him. He fears having to deal with this for the rest of his life. The risk is a hernia if he pushes himself too much. He's good at pushing himself too much. But he has been healing. He still gets sore, especially if he does something new, but he pushes through. He keeps going, then sits with ice packs when he gets home. He doesn't have as much swelling now. His pain levels are the same, but not worse. My prayer is that as he keeps going, those muscles can strengthen and the muscles around the area can strengthen and heal that area of his body. Another lasting effect is his lung capacity. Because there is scarring from his blood clot, he doesn't have full lung capacity anymore. He will get out of breath quicker and sometimes his chest gets tight. Another frustrating thing, but he pushes through that also. He doesn't let it stop him. He still works out and works out hard. He values his physical health, and I'm very proud of him! His mental and spiritual health are also healing. He had to face depression during his recovery time. He was never someone who felt weak or relied on others to do things he couldn't. Simple things like take out the trash. He wasn't allowed to lift anything over 10 pounds. He couldn't wrestle with Sam. He couldn't walk very far without having to stop to catch his breath. He had to sleep in a recliner because he wasn't able to sleep flat. If he laid down, it put too much pressure on his chest and he felt like he couldn't breath. If I moved next to him, he would tense up in anticipation of my bumping his side. He couldn't lay on his side because it was too painful. So he slept in a recliner for several months. With so many changes to life, he became depressed. He was distant and withdrew into himself. He felt hopeless. He felt nothing. He didn't care about anything. He wasn't able to. He became a master of self-loathing. I supported my husband however I could, but mostly I just understood. I have been through depression and was able to empathize with him and understand what he was going through. He had a support system. His younger brother completely changed his life to move in with us and help. He took over taking out the trash. He was able to start a life here in Lubbock because of all of that, but those first few months, his help meant everything. As my husband's physical healing happened, his mental and spiritual healing happened as well. The day he was cleared to start working out again was huge. It was so hard because he had so far to go to get back to where he was before the accident, but he's doing it. Two years later and he's back to running a mile in the same speed. He's lifting heavy weights again and he's lost the weight he put on during recovery. He wrestles with Sam. He takes out the trash. He further challenged himself with going though the academy and becoming a Deputy. He has worked so hard in the last two years. Harder than I've ever seen him work in his life. And it's finally paying off. He will be done with training in just a couple weeks. He is officially Deputy Recter. He looks amazing in his uniform. He cherishes the badge and what it means and the promise he has spoken. He is doing what he is meant to do in life, and doing it well.
During his recovery time and my pregnancy in 2016, I finally decided to step back from my responsibilities of taking care of my grandmother. Her health had continued to decline. She was completely bed-bound and her hands had closed almost completely, despite the medications, therapies, exercises and diet changes I tried to do. There is a mental and emotional demand caring completely for someone else that, bluntly, if you've never done it, you have no idea. Taking care of my husband and my son, worrying about my mother, and going through a difficult and high risk pregnancy was challenging in and of itself. My grandmother was often aggravated with me, but only me. In her times of confusion or hallucinations, I was the enemy. She became hostile towards me and nothing I tried to do to fix it helped. One time during a hallucination she believed I had killed a baby and put it in her lap and refused to take it away. Even when her home nurse got there and got her to calm down, she still believed that to be the truth. I battled guilt over not wanting to do it anymore. I had promised my grandfather before he died that I would take care of her. In the end, with my family's support, I realized that her health was also affected by being with me. After I started touring nursing homes, I saw how much better it would be for her also. They had equipment and facilities that I couldn't have. She was always in a better mood around outside people/help. I knew the importance of making that decision for my own little growing family and finally for her as well. It was a difficult decision, but it was another situation in my life I needed healing from. Caring for loved ones calls for a sacrifice and when it isn't appreciated and even the opposite, it hurts. There's a deep hurt there that is finally beginning to heal. I am outside of the situation now and am working on seeing the good in it. I spent 7 years caring for my grandparents and one day I know I will appreciate fully the life lessons I learned from it. I already appreciate the relationship I gained with my grandfather. Although he was difficult and we butted heads a lot, I've realized it's because of how much a like we were. I'm healing and learning how to see and appreciate the parts of them and that time in my life that I want to carry and pass on to my children.
Healing from grief has been the longest and most difficult healing I've experienced in life. I was no stranger to grief and death before I lost my mother, but there was nothing that prepared me for this. No other level of death or grief has even compared to the grief of losing her. For the first year after losing her, I had no idea how to live and function without her. So I barely did. I focused on necessities. I continued functioning daily to care for my family while fighting the urge to dig a giant hole to crawl down and lay in the bottom of. My healing in this has come from different things. God. People. Netflix. Moments. Peace in the knowledge that she's no longer suffering. Life has continued on around me and I have been allowed to stay in my little bubble. I have become so very aware of the people in my life who matter; Who love me and my husband and my children. I've surrounded myself with these good people and stepped back from the toxic. I am on facebook less and instagram more. I share my little life with choice people and stay away from the things that make me feel like this parenting thing is a competition. Well, really life in and of itself. I am learning to stop comparing my life to other people's lives. I love God more and more and value my relationship with Him like I never have. I'm cherishing listening to my son pray and the talks we have about Jesus and Heaven. I focus on the parts of my mom that I want to keep alive forever. I do her puzzles and find comfort in knowing that she touched each and every little piece. I listen to the music she loved and can remember the sounds of her singing along. My son talks about her more now and talks about things he remembers. I try to foster those memories and make it a priority to keep those memories alive for him. I focus on doing the things I wish she had done more, like writing more of my thoughts and taking more pictures of myself. People in my life have been helping me heal too. I have a friend who lost her mother also and we are a lot alike and it's been incredibly healing to be able to talk to her and know she understands me. I have my mom's sisters who regularly keep in contact with me. They send little gifts to my kids which seems small, but is huge. My mom loved to get little gifts for Sam. She would get him books and little things that she saw and made her think of him. She had even already gotten a few things for Joy, who wasn't here yet! My aunts have done amazing at taking over that, and they probably don't even realize it.
| One of my aunts made a beautiful quilt out of my mom's jeans for Sam. He sleeps with it every night. Sometimes we sit under it together. It's the closest thing to a hug from her I can imagine. She also made a piece for Joy with pictures of her. It's so special she included her. Joy didn't get to know my mom personally, but I hope that she feels like she does know her from the memories we can all share with her. |
Another aunt carried some of my mother's ashes home and spread them in the garden my mother helped her in. The other aunt texts me hearts and smiles and thoughtful little encouragements and they always seem to arrive on the days I need them most. My dad and brother have helped in sharing memories and little special things about her.
My husband has been amazing.
Even in his own grief of losing her, he has been here for me in ways I didn't even know I needed. He has allowed me to grieve however I needed to. One very particular memory was a time I was struggling over feeling guilt about something with her and he said, "if she was here right now, she would say "Malissa"." The face he made and tone of voice he used as he said my name sounded e x a c t l y like her. She would say my name like that when I was worried about something silly or feeling guilty about something I shouldn't. She would furrow her eyebrows and have this kind of smirk. Her way of communicating "Really?" or "seriously?". But she would only say my name. I could hear her in his voice. It pierced my heart with a flood of pain and joy at the same time. And he was right and I needed to hear it. Nobody else would ever be able to communicate that to me the same way. I wouldn't react the same way. Anyone else trying that with me would make me instantly mad and defensive. But she spoke to my heart with that look and saying only my name. Sometimes it was small silly things but there were important big times too. I will forever miss hearing her say my name like that. My husband has also helped with not only acknowledging how important her memories are to me, but also for himself. He wants to honor her memory in his life. He wants to care for me and our children the best that he can out of respect for her. I love when he says things like "she would've loved that" or "that's just like her!". He helps with cherishing things like her birthday and Christmas and keeping her traditions alive. I love that those things are important to him also.
As the next chapter of our life begins, I am pushing myself to keep looking forward. No more looking back. I will carry the precious pieces of the past with me, but I have to keep looking forward now. I want to be as good of a mom for my children as my mom was for me.
Proverbs 16:24 Gracious words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.
Thank you for the gracious words so many of you have spoken.
Love,
Mal
My husband has been amazing.
Even in his own grief of losing her, he has been here for me in ways I didn't even know I needed. He has allowed me to grieve however I needed to. One very particular memory was a time I was struggling over feeling guilt about something with her and he said, "if she was here right now, she would say "Malissa"." The face he made and tone of voice he used as he said my name sounded e x a c t l y like her. She would say my name like that when I was worried about something silly or feeling guilty about something I shouldn't. She would furrow her eyebrows and have this kind of smirk. Her way of communicating "Really?" or "seriously?". But she would only say my name. I could hear her in his voice. It pierced my heart with a flood of pain and joy at the same time. And he was right and I needed to hear it. Nobody else would ever be able to communicate that to me the same way. I wouldn't react the same way. Anyone else trying that with me would make me instantly mad and defensive. But she spoke to my heart with that look and saying only my name. Sometimes it was small silly things but there were important big times too. I will forever miss hearing her say my name like that. My husband has also helped with not only acknowledging how important her memories are to me, but also for himself. He wants to honor her memory in his life. He wants to care for me and our children the best that he can out of respect for her. I love when he says things like "she would've loved that" or "that's just like her!". He helps with cherishing things like her birthday and Christmas and keeping her traditions alive. I love that those things are important to him also.
As the next chapter of our life begins, I am pushing myself to keep looking forward. No more looking back. I will carry the precious pieces of the past with me, but I have to keep looking forward now. I want to be as good of a mom for my children as my mom was for me.
Proverbs 16:24 Gracious words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.
Thank you for the gracious words so many of you have spoken.
Love,
Mal