Part 2 – How The ‘F’ Did I Get Here?
GRIEF is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go. – Jamie Anderson
This is my reality now. No matter how much I try to wish it away, I cannot. I had forgotten what GRIEF felt like. My mother and grandparents all died a long time ago. My mother in law died during the early days of COVID. Then losing my sister Debra hit me in the center of your soul. I now felt grief everywhere all the time. It had a grip on my soul and it wouldn’t let ago.
My sister and I hadn’t spoken in a few years and now it seems like eternity.
So when I heard she died, it was a shock. Plus the way she died was tragic; alone and on the floor of her apartment barely breathing. We found out afterwards that she was sick for a long time. She worked until she took a leave of absence. She had crappy health insurance through her employer. She fought for months to get approval for testing. She died trying. She died of cancer; metastatic lung cancer. My mother died of metastatic lung cancer too. My brother heard the news from my nephew, and then called me.
It was two days after our month stay in Paris. Mark and I both came home with the flu. We couldn’t attend the graveside funeral up in NY. We watched it virtually. It was almost too much to watch. A simple coffin being lowered in the ground, right next to my mother. Together again, forever.
I was numb the first few months after her passing. My brother and I grieved together. We have a small family. My dad was very sick at the time, and he couldn’t handle any talk or remembrance of his daughter. So I avoided the subject. It is hard to not talk about something this profound when you entire body is screaming in sadness.
I reached out to a local rabbi and got back into therapy. I read some new books on grief. I meditated. All helped just a little. The only thing that actually helped me was talking about her and the passage of time. Grief must be shared; otherwise it burns inside of you forever.
It’s been exhausting and challenging. I stopped taking on new clients. I had trouble sleeping. Prescription medications didn’t help. I had no energy. At times, I was too tired to get out of bed. All I wanted to do was sleep. I barely showed up for a few business/philanthropic events. I don’t think anyone noticed as I excel in putting on a brave face.
Her death coupled with both our dad’s failing health was too much. My husband and I are both parenting our dads in different ways. We are each trying our best; knowing our efforts will not change the outcomes.
There was death, illness and aging all around. My only uncle passed away recently as well; leaving another void in our small family.
All of this was in my face, every day, every single day. I am surrounded. I felt like I was adrift in the middle of the ocean; directionless with nothing to do but spend time with my thoughts. I felt stuck; ruminating and languishing in my psychological despair. I was a wreck; psychologically, emotionally and physically.
I gave up on myself. I was tired; oh so very tired. I decided I had to get myself evaluated by a pulmonologist, a neurologist and a cardiologist. Physically I am fine. Psychologically, I was depressed.
Approximately 3-4 months after my sister died, I began to obsess a bit about my own age. I felt ‘old and ‘tired’ and ‘out of shape’. I never really thought about my age in anything but a neutral way. It wasn’t positive or negative. It was a fact; plain and simple.
Living longer than my mother was a thought that was always in the back of my mind. She died at 55. I’m now 66; older than both my mother and sister will ever be. I know it is a gift to age; however for me it is a reminder of lives not fully lived.
I realized I had ageist views towards myself and others around me. These thoughts were abound at home and in my work. I let the external influences affect my well being and negatively impacted my own perspective on getting older. I noticed my own limiting beliefs about aging, self-worth, menopause and self-value. I noticed it in my movements. I tell myself I’m older, I’m slower and I don’t have the energy to do that anymore. Can I say bull shit?!
We have been living in an over 55 community for the past two years. I don’t like living in a community made up of only ‘old’ people. Did you catch that? I wrote ‘old’. Most of the people we have met are retired, and the social/lifestyle director arranges events geared to kindergartners. Having neighbors only in my age demographic, remind me each and everyday that I am old enough to live here. Plus I find it isolating, depressing and separate from what is going on in the world. I know it is perspective. This has been my perspective.
I had been feeding this narrative for most of my adult life. Whenever I was relocating and considering other places to live, I would always say the following – ‘You will never find me living in Florida especially in an over 55 community.’ How’s that for a reinforcing theme of negativity?
Mark is semi-retired and I work because I love what I do. I can’t stop those I love from dying. I can’t stop those that I love from getting ill. I can examine my own limiting beliefs and begin to change my internal dialogue about aging. This I can do.
With all of my intellectual prowess and years of introspection, I couldn’t help myself get out of my own room of grief, and thus questioning everything about my life. My negative self-talk which I excel at, has been in overdrive.
During these past 8 months, I have been living in the juxtaposition of my own aging, those of my immediate family members, and those in my housing community. This journey has been exhausting, challenging and lengthy. I haven’t given up and I keep trying my best everyday; even when my best is making my bed, brushing my teeth, swimming slowly, and napping.
The pretty cool thing about me is I always come back to try again. This has been hard and I have still have moments of doubt. Yet now they are moments, not hours or days of doubt. I am slowly able to catch myself, in the moment, breathe and release the fear, sadness and doubt.
I’m not done yet.
Part 3 – Shifting My Narrative And Behavior To Change My Well Being
COMING SOON
Who Stole My Estrogen? 