April 14, 2024
In the midst of my grief, trying to work a full-time job as a school librarian, and helping run a household, I find that service work keeps me sane, especially when I end up feeling stuck or down. It is not surprising that I have felt adrift in the past nearly nine months since my eldest son died of a fentanyl overdose. Alex and Andrew have been an enormous part of my life for decades and I have known for ages that they were my central life’s purpose. Sure, as a teacher and librarian I have helped other people’s children learn skills that will improve their lives as adults. I would even hazard to guess there have been some grown-ups and community members I have influenced with my example or just by being a friend.
But it has been my sons who have been my main motivation to work hard, save money for their education and to guide them through their life choices. At times I have needed to help them with medical or emotional crises. Much of the time my role has been to listen and let them figure things out on their own. Loving Alex and Andrew unconditionally has come easily, and I wouldn’t trade the relationships I have had with them for anything. Nonetheless, there is a gaping hole where Alex once existed in my world. I am extremely grateful that Andrew came home to live with us in the interim between college and graduate school. None of us knew his brother would die when Andrew made this decision; I am sure we all thought Alex would find recovery again. One of the many hidden blessings in this challenging time has been that Nick, Andrew and I are under one roof, eat dinner together most nights and get to share a lot of extra hugs.
When I don’t feel like I have the energy to do big service projects, I endeavor to keep doing the next right thing. I can call a friend who is struggling, make a meal for someone or go on a walk with a friend and listen attentively as they talk about their own struggles. For at least a short while, I get out of my head and think about someone else. This Fall and through Spring I got involved in a big ecological restoration project at a small historic cemetery near my house. With the blessing of the officers of our “Friends” group, I wrote a grant proposal, got the grant, bought soil and native plants, organized 6 workdays, and 116 volunteers to help repair a badly eroded hillside. We completed the work last weekend and I feel great about the community turnout and the improved landscape. The outward healing of the land provided an opportunity for my internal healing, too. Being outside for hours, in the woods and doing physical labor grounded me deeply.
So now what? I have finally settled Alex’s estate and filed the 3 tax returns needed to account for my son’s final taxes, his estate, and my personal taxes. It is time for me to sit and reflect before I pick my next project. I know myself well enough to realize that I often try to fill my sense of emptiness with busyness or new projects. For now, I am going to resist diving into something new and just allow myself to sit with my emotions. I am pretty sure there is a legacy project in my future to help addicts in the Richmond area. I am pretty sure that I know which organization I want to support. Today, I will pause to let myself heal. I will slowly gather facts and listen to the leadings that come out of prayer and meditation. I will keep on practicing yoga each morning, going for walks in the afternoon and attending support groups and counseling. I don’t expect to get better overnight, nor do I expect the Alex sized gap in my life will suddenly go away. What I do believe is that one day I will grow around my grief. I will find a new direction and a new purpose that will include service to others.
Mindful Musings 