I am going to be perfectly honest… This summer has been awful. I do my best to not wish time away, but Summer 2023 cannot come to an end quick enough. Chris will begin a new journey as a high school EMS instructor this month but until then, May, June and July had been fraught with a lot of emotional and financial turmoil.
On July 12th, I was on the phone with my mom and I was catching her up about some new developments with Bowen. I was venting some and we’d been on the phone for a while, when she interrupted me and said, “Hang on Sara, Susan keeps calling me”. Susan, being my Aunt. I knew then, that something was wrong. It was either my Uncle Barry, or cousins Ben or Mike. Susan never called- let alone repeatedly. Mom got back on the phone with me and tearfully stated that Barry had died. “What?!” I said… this wasn’t real. What the heck was going on? She said he didn’t have many details, only that he’d had surgery Monday and then hadn’t been feeling well that morning of the 12th. Mom said she was headed over to Susan’s and I asked if I could come, even though I had the boys with me. She said yes, we hung up and I quickly got the boys ready to go.
Now, let me pause, and give some detail as to my familial relationships- Susan is my mom’s sister and growing up, I was very close with my 2 older cousins, Ben and Mike. Ben is 6 years older than I am and Mike is 2. At a young age, I was introduced to Nirvana and Smashing Pumpkins, Tony Hawk, and gruesome skateboarding injuries courtesy of my “super cool” cousins. Flannel was in and girlie frills and pink were WAAAYYY out. We spent summers doing all kinds of fun activities with my aunt, uncle and cousins.
It wasn’t until I became an adult, and had kids, that I got closer with my Uncle Barry. He was always a bit scary- with his white beard and towering presence. He was a Harley riding badass who was soft spoken. As kids, him and his boys didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye. He worked a lot, from what I remember when I was young. But the thing about Uncle Barry was- he loved hockey. And I loved hockey. And we both loved the Avs. We’d text back and forth during the games and talk shop at family holidays. The Broncos were also a fun topic- although they’ve been so bad in recent years, that there wasn’t much to say.
Uncle Barry told fun stories and loved seeing my boys. But then, he was gone. Just like that. Suddenly, as much as this summer was tough, it suddenly became a bit more tough. As a few weeks have since passed, I still find myself with intense pangs of sadness and prickles of tears behind my eyes.
It is in those moments that I realize I am not only mourning my Uncle, but I am also mourning a summer lost with my boys. I am mourning my poor decisions as my sons baseball coach, where I reprimanded and scolded more than I praised and encouraged. If my boys suddenly decide they don’t want to play baseball, it will be my fault. I am mourning the fact that we barely did anything fun this summer, because I felt like we we hanging on by a thread. It is then realize that when it comes to mourning and grief, there is no “right way” to do it.
When I think back, I think I’ve been grieving in various capacities for what feels like my whole life. Even as an adolescent, I remember grieving various parts of myself as I grew up. At the time, no one talked about emotions or mental health. I always felt alone in deep, intense feelings I would experience. Each milestone was met with both emotions of joy but also of loss. Not only did I grieve my grandparents deaths when I was younger, but I grieved high school ending, college beginning and then each and every relationship that I went through in high school and college as well. As much as I struggled with who I was in college, I struggled even more coming to terms with who I was as an adult.
Fast forward many years, and I have grieved a life as a “normal mom” and instead, God signed me up for a life as a medical mom. No matter what, I think anyone would grieve what they thought would be “normal” for their child. Grief comes in many forms, and while psychology can provide a general grieving process and definitions for us- it cannot assign what stage of grief we will be in at any given time, nor for how long. Grief can be messy because of this and humans aren’t very good at messy.
Our nature dictates that we need structure, routine and sameness to feel safe. Have you ever been on vacation, and had a blast, but then felt so exhausted when you got home that you just wanted to sleep for days? It’s because our brain took a break from the routine- and while the this feeds the right side of our brain, the left side says “Please! get us back to normal! I am panicking here!” These are the same brain signals that combat veterans, police, EMS and fire and also MEDICAL PARENTS experience too. Our brains are in such states of “chaos” because the normal is so abnormal, that we literally cannot calm down. What does this have to do with grief? Well, having our brains in a state of chaos from grief can lead to the same outcomes as those who are experiencing stress from being a first responder and military veteran. Diagnoses of depression, anxiety and PTSD among these populations are higher than regular society. While a great emphasis has been placed on the mental health of our first responders and military veterans, the same type of treatment and mental health services need to be available for parents who experience medical trauma. The same type of treatment needs to be available for those experiencing grief as well. Grief can alter our brain in similar ways that extreme stress can.
The messiness of grief is exactly why it is impossible to predict how, when and in what way someone will grieve. There is no “right” way to grieve. And that can make it hard to support someone in the midst of grief. Being there for someone who is grieving takes a great amount of empathy, patience and compassion. It can be hard sometimes, because our patience may wane. And that’s ok too.
As someone who sometimes feels in a perpetual state of grief, I can say that the best way to support someone who is struggling would be to try to find ways to take them out of that grief. Try not to talk about it all the time, but be available when they want to talk about it. Check in and ask for updates when you can. They will have good days and bad, just like anyone. Some of those bad days may feel a little heavier. And for medical families, the grief process can restart multiple times as they go through the processes of diagnosis and treatments. Understand this isn’t by choice but rather, the healthiest way for us to process what is going on with our child. By grieving the difficult news and by family and friends allowing us to experience our feelings without judgement, we can return to a state of homeostasis in our brains much faster.
No matter how grief presents itself, know that it doesn’t really matter what it looks like to you or to anyone else. It is your own journey and I hope you have people in your life who can honor that journey. Most importantly, honor it in yourself and be gentle as you process whatever you are going through.
Somewhere In Between 