You will survive and you will find purpose in the chaos. Moving on doesn't mean letting go.
Over the past year or so my husband and I have seen a trend of people reaching out when they are going through a scary time with a parent, or someone's experiencing a very fresh loss. I think you try and find meaning in your own tragedy, and we think that helping others through loss may be ours. We went through it much sooner than most, and we seem to be able to calm people when they are in the midst of the storm.
I read this quote at the top of the post and instantly thought of a dear friend that just reached out to me this weekend. Her and her husband had been taking care of their Nana full time and she sadly had just passed away. Her lungs just finally gave out on her.
I'll tell you time does not heal, but it allows you to tuck away the rawest of experiences, to enable you to function again. The only problem with those moments being put into storage, is that when someone recants their experience, those memories all come jumping out of that bin like they just happened. I don't view this as a bad thing. I really do believe that part of my journey, for the rest of my life, is helping friends navigate these experiences and offering them as much support as I can.
This friend has not just been a caregiver to her Nana, she's been a caregiver for everyone, for her whole life. She has cared for her children, her grandchildren, my children, pretty much any person that would reach out to her in need, she would open her doors up with welcoming arms, a warm meal, and a listening ear. This woman is truly selfless, and for the first time in a long time, feels lost without a purpose. She was downloading her experiences towards the end and doing what most people do. She started playing "what if". The part that hit me the hardest was when she said, she doesn't know what to do now, because her life was dictated by a clock. For anyone who has cared for a loved one in the throws of intense treatment you know that your life is consumed by the clock. "Every 4 hours take this pill, injections every 6 hours, flush the line at 6PM and place the TPN bag on for 2 hours". Her pain, loss, and lack of purpose, hit me like a ton of bricks and brought me right back to my parents treatment time.
After my mom's passing my husband had to take my phone away during the evenings. I probably had some form of PTSD. I had to field so many calls from family and doctors, that every time the phone rang, or I recieved a text, I would flench. I had to learn what normal was again and had to detatch myself for a while from my phone. It got better. I don't panic anymore when we get a late night call or text. Life gets better.
My friend is going to have to work through all the emotions of loss. She has one of the biggest hearts i've ever had the privilege of knowing. But I want her to know, she will survive and she will find purpose in the chaos, and that moving on doesn't mean that she's letting go!
I read this quote at the top of the post and instantly thought of a dear friend that just reached out to me this weekend. Her and her husband had been taking care of their Nana full time and she sadly had just passed away. Her lungs just finally gave out on her.
I'll tell you time does not heal, but it allows you to tuck away the rawest of experiences, to enable you to function again. The only problem with those moments being put into storage, is that when someone recants their experience, those memories all come jumping out of that bin like they just happened. I don't view this as a bad thing. I really do believe that part of my journey, for the rest of my life, is helping friends navigate these experiences and offering them as much support as I can.
This friend has not just been a caregiver to her Nana, she's been a caregiver for everyone, for her whole life. She has cared for her children, her grandchildren, my children, pretty much any person that would reach out to her in need, she would open her doors up with welcoming arms, a warm meal, and a listening ear. This woman is truly selfless, and for the first time in a long time, feels lost without a purpose. She was downloading her experiences towards the end and doing what most people do. She started playing "what if". The part that hit me the hardest was when she said, she doesn't know what to do now, because her life was dictated by a clock. For anyone who has cared for a loved one in the throws of intense treatment you know that your life is consumed by the clock. "Every 4 hours take this pill, injections every 6 hours, flush the line at 6PM and place the TPN bag on for 2 hours". Her pain, loss, and lack of purpose, hit me like a ton of bricks and brought me right back to my parents treatment time.
After my mom's passing my husband had to take my phone away during the evenings. I probably had some form of PTSD. I had to field so many calls from family and doctors, that every time the phone rang, or I recieved a text, I would flench. I had to learn what normal was again and had to detatch myself for a while from my phone. It got better. I don't panic anymore when we get a late night call or text. Life gets better.
My friend is going to have to work through all the emotions of loss. She has one of the biggest hearts i've ever had the privilege of knowing. But I want her to know, she will survive and she will find purpose in the chaos, and that moving on doesn't mean that she's letting go!
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