SAD SHOPPING

 They say never grocery shop when you are hungry.  I have learned it is very expensive to grocery shop when you are feeling sad.

When I feel sorry for myself I spend $153.00 on things like:

1. Pate (2 kinds)
2. A nicely shaped pot I can put mosaic tile on even though I have 3 at home waiting to be similarly  adorned.
3.  Four sweet indulgences which I hope will last 2 weeks until I shop again - they won't.
4. Shrimp - because no shrimp packing plants are under siege - yet.
5. Three kinds of cheese even though I already have 2 kinds in the frig.
6. A $2.00 avocado - which will never be worth what I spent. 
7. Three kinds of berries not on mark down. 
8. Green onions to replace the 2 slimy bags of green onions I removed from the frig.

I also bought some ground lamb and chicken - because meat packing plants. Four greeting cards which I need to swear off because they are ridiculously expensive. I have been saying that for about 2 years now, it is an addiction.

I couldn't buy any Lipton Tea and a few other things on my actual list.  There were many more empty shelves throughout the store than I have seen before.  My cupboards and refrigerator are full - no more shopping just for something to do. 

Except for plants at the nursery...

GRIEF - ONE SIZE NEVER FITS ALL

Much has been studied and reported about grief.  We have all heard about the stages of grief and the requirement that one has to go through them to go forward emotionally.  The most frequent  statement is that we must express our grief or it can't be put to rest.

It is four months ago today that my husband died.  He was hospitalized for 22 days.  He went through a complete round of chemo during that time.  He struggled physically and emotionally.  He would say to the Palliative Care team that he looked at the disease as a "blessing - a new beginning".  He never talked that way.  The entire family engaged in eye rolling over that one.  But generally he was himself to the day he died.  Difficult, demanding, hard working, sentimental, loving.

I loved my husband of 35 years.  Our relationship was interdependent in many ways.  I am a nurturer by nature. As a lonely only child he sopped up all that I did for him with gratitude. He was my protector, provider and companion.  We have 3 amazing children.  We - all five of us - are independent people.  We agreed to let him go when it was clear he was not going to recover, we were at his bedside when he breathed his last breath.  We told stories and laughed and none of us thought he would go as quickly as he did because it was his way to put up a fight and drag things out.

I did not cry then - and have shed very few tears since.  We went home and started getting things organized the next day.  I did not take to my bed.  I did not feel that there was no reason to go on, or that my life was over. I recognized that my life had completely changed - but that I am still my whole self.

After the initial shock had worn off and many tasks had been taken care of and things around his death had slowed a bit - I started to wonder if there was something wrong with me.  I didn't feel I was denying any of my emotions but I wasn't distraught.  I felt pretty secure in the decisions I was making.  When I felt overwhelmed by things I took a step back.  I engaged in self care - went for walks, made sure I ate well. But still I wondered if I was "normal."

I went online and looked at information about grief.  I don't think I am repressing things - Brene Brown would say I was not being authentic, that I was denying my negative emotions and that suppression would bring more suffering.  I don't think so.  I am not denying who I truly am.  I am not fearful of being unlovable.

I had and still sometimes have a lot of anger toward my husband for the financial situation he left me in - but I also recognized immediately that he suffered knowing what was coming for me and I have, as best I can, forgiven him for it.  So I explored if that combination of being sad and mad was something others had experienced - and there is a bit out there about similar situations - but mostly it goes back to the "stages of grief" kind of anger.  So I was satisfied with the general sentiment that not everyone grieves the same way, on the same timeline - one size doesn't fit all understanding of grief.

Then I ran across some newer studies about resilience.   I am nothing if not resilient.  The Mrs. Brightside moniker is all about that. For me it isn't about glossing over or denying the negative - it is about finding your way through by focusing on what is possible, the positive, the light.

George Bonanno's studies and book The Other Side of Sadness: What the New Science of Bereavement Tells About Life After Loss  is about "studies which followed bereaved people over long periods of time we always found tremendous variability in how people react to loss. We found a pattern we call "resilience" in between one third and two thirds of bereaved people. It looks like the term suggests. People who show a resilient outcome struggle initially with the pain of loss, as almost everyone does, but they manage to deal with the sadness and distress with equanimity. Their pain is acute, usually lasting most pointedly for a few days to a few weeks but then begins to subside. It is not that they don't grieve, or that they didn't care; far from it. Rather, they are able to put the pain aside when they need to and they continue to meet the demands of their life. They even laugh and experience moments of joy. They accept the loss, readjust their sense of what is, and move on."

I don't report this as in "I am of superior mental health" than people who are traumatized and grieve for years and years.  I am well aware that sudden, violent loss or the loss of a child is much different and creates more of a PTSD response.  I am just comforted by the approach that lets me know I am not a cold, unfeeling or suppressed person for experiencing my grief in my way.

THE REVEAL

Tom and I had certainly not foreseen that this would happen so soon in our lives - we expected a good 10 years before major health issues might occur.  We lived a healthy lifestyle and had no medical issues.  We had, however, spent time discussing things like quality of life and how far we would or would not allow medical intervention for each other.

I served as his advocate and was respected by the medical staff in that role.  His mental capacity was compromised and he had trouble speaking on and off during his hospitalization.  When he was lucid and could communicate well, he had many things he felt strongly about telling me.  He was extremely focused on his work, he made sure his clients had been taken care of.  He repeatedly told me about financial stuff like passwords and when bills were due that he handled. Even when he was delirious or sleepy, he insisted on holding his phone and having his blue tooth in his ear - during the nights I would wake up to him talking away as if he was conducting business.

It was clear to the family that in the last days he was asking for our help, asking to be let go. Things had deteriorated so significantly that much of his day was spent undergoing care that was painful and intrusive and not creating any gains.  We were all in agreement about stopping treatment and the staff handled the end very well with great respect and consideration.  He knew we were all there and the last word he said was "love".

The entire family retreated to our house to sleep.  In the morning we started making lists of things that needed to be done - divided it up and got to work.  We are a family of "doers".  Each of us in our own state of shock/grief/bewilderment we set about our tasks.  As the day went on, it became clear that there was a big problem.  I knew that I would not be able to afford the big house we had just rented, but the financial situation was significantly more dire than I had ever imagined. 

He would be very angry that I am even revealing this to others, but I think it is very important not to gloss over things - not just because this is the grim reality of my life now, but because it should serve as a warning.  I am not one of those old fashioned women who left everything up to my spouse.  I knew we had tax debt because I signed the taxes and payment plans every year.  I argued with him about his refusal to pay his quarterly estimated taxes as a self employed person.  He always argued back that if he had bad months back to back he might not be able to pay the rent or his bills to keep his practice going.  I know he lived in constant stress about his business month to month. 

Going through the finances, notifying creditors of his death, determining what accounts had to be paid or closed was significantly aided by the fact that he had created a comprehensive list with all his accounts and passwords.  What going through that revealed was gut wrenching.  Long story short (sorry, I guess this is not so short) he had massive consumer debt in his name that I did not know about and he had gotten behind on the tax payment plans and the IRS was after us. Big time.

Not only is finding I would have to deal with all this another kick in the gut, the kids were all exposed to this information and, quite frankly, we are all really pissed off about it.  Yes, he had no idea he was going to get sick and die.  Yes, he clearly was upset and obsessed with this throughout his illness and confinement in the hospital. Yes, he was trying to shield me with the belief he was somehow going to get it taken care of over time - but he didn't end up with time. 

I feel such pain knowing how worried he was all during his illness, he knew this hammer was out there and if he didn't survive it was going to come down on me. 

On the other hand - REALLY?  Keeping all this from me for years? Not being honest?  Pretending like we could actually purchase a house again?  Agreeing I could retire?

This reveal was only the beginning - much more to follow.