Lessons of a Miserable Year

This has truly been a horrible year for me and for my mother. First of all, my father became very ill in February and he died in April. I never understood just how awful that would be. I thought I was prepared for anything, but I was very wrong. Not only was there the amazing grief, but all the hassles with banking and accounts and notifications, etc. were just overwhelming. Each accomplishment led to two set-backs.

I learned a lot in a hurry about how to railroad my way through red tape. In the beginning, I spent about four hours a day on the phone trying to untie all that red tape for my mother. In the end, I found the railroad technique was the only one that had a chance of working. And I really don't like having to take that route.

Going through the grieving process is painful. I don't doubt that my dad is much better off in the presence of the Lord, but I miss him, and my mom does, too. She thought life was tough juggling all the doctor and therapy appointments (I had to call and cancel twleve appointments the morning after my dad died), but she discovered it was worse not having them to do.

We've made progress, but occasionally, I have several days in a row of the deepest depression I've ever experienced. Those times come less frequently now, and usually don't last very long, but they are paralyzing for the duration.

Last week was the worst week since April. One of my mother's sisters died on Monday. Their brother died on Tuesday and the deceased sister's ex-son-in-law died on Tuesday also. They were all in another part of the country, and we did not go in person, but our hearts were there all week. I know they had it worse attending the funerals than we did, but we were alone. That's difficult, too.

So what have I learned? Even when it feels like we're overwhelmed, God does provide the ability to persevere through the trials. At a time when I didn't know I was capable of rational thought, I was able to make lists and calls and do the things that had to be done - sometimes almost in a state of numbness.

Things are just not that important. My father was a terrible pack rat and it took us days to clean out all the things he wouldn't let us clean out before. Those things he thought were so important held no value to the rest of us. Now, not all things were discarded - we each got something special and my mother used the time to go ahead and clean out her own things, too. My daughter especially reaped great kitchen tools from her.

I learned that my children will come through for me when I need them too. They went with me to see my mom and helped with that cleaning process. My son crawled in the attic and retrieved everything up there so that it would not have to be done later. That was a huge, messy chore. Best line of the experience - in his drollest voice, my son commented, "When I get to heaven, we're going to have a talk - about the attic."

I learned that one is never prepared for a death - not when it is unexpected and not when it is expected. I learned that knowing how much better off the departed is doesn't stop the flow of tears.

I learned that the military honors at a funeral are some of the most precious tributes we can ever give to our veterans. My dad served in the military during World War II - long before he met my mother. We never knew him as a sailor (or in his marine uniform either), but the honor guard made us feel as though we did know him in those days. That folded flag that will never again be unfolded is a testament to my father's walking toward danger to treat wounded marines all over the South Pacific. The son of one of my closest friends serves in a Navy Honor Guard these days. I hope he knows how much his service means to families. I can't find the words to make it clear, but I hope he knows.

Finally, I learned that we need to say to those we admire and respect everything that we want to say while we still can. My dad knew I was proud of his service because of the album we made together commemorating that time in his life. But the note I sent to my uncle to thank him for his service and to tell him I admired him for never saying anything bad about anyone didn't arrive before his death. I waited too long to send that note. If you have something to say to someone, say it today. And if you do that, this year might actually be worth the pain I've endured. Because then you will have benefited from the lessons of my miserable year.