Scheduled Grief

50-percent-gray.jpgI sat down last night to begin my writing for this week, and I had nothing.  No anecdotes, no significant events, not even any special lessons I learned this past week as it pertains to grief or mourning.  I stared at the screen for hours, adding a few paragraphs, reading over them, then deleting them.

Finally, as midnight drew near, I closed my laptop and went to bed.  I had no more energy to write, and the words weren’t flowing either way.  

Writing here for Soaring Spirits gives me the opportunity to share my perspectives and lessons learned with a wide audience.  Every Tuesday, I hope that something I’ve written helps at least one person through a tough time or is something they can relate to and say “me too”.

But sometimes, it is just not there.  The flip-side to writing every Tuesday is that, well, sometimes Tuesday isn’t when I’m emotional or grieving.  Tuesday isn’t always preceded by a week of memories, anniversaries, first-time-since-Megan events, or milestones in Shelby or I’s lives.  Sometimes, Tuesday is just Tuesday.  

I’m not always grieving.  In fact, it’s not often that I am in a heavy fog of grief.  There are periods of time where my mind is much more focused on work, Shelby, Sarah, home projects, or the upcoming weekend.  Megan crosses my mind at least once, daily, but not to the extent that I have to stop and take a moment.  Just as her birthday, or our anniversary fill me with emotion, so too does a random week bring no real poignant thoughts.

And so sometimes, it feels as if I need to “schedule” my grief.  I have to hope that when Monday evening rolls around, that something occurred in the past week or two that I can write about, and relate to people.  I write to an audience of primarily widows.  Writing about Shelby, Sarah and I’s upcoming camping trip wouldn’t be all that meaningful, given the context.   It has nothing to do with losing Megan, grief, mourning, or loss.  It’s just a camping trip, with no metaphors or lessons to be learned.  

Even more so, sharing about Sarah and I’s lives together brings a bit of guilt.  Yes, I’ve been told that it brings hope to people that feel they are ready to begin a second chapter, but just the same, I know there are widows and widowers out there that feel there is no hope, or have no desire to have another relationship.  It feels like bragging and/ or oversharing.

More often than not, I tend to sit down and stare at a blinking cursor for a while, trying to “write to the audience”.  Most of the time, it works out, and I remember an event that happened in the past few days that MEANS something.  There are instances though, such as this, where my mind is blank.  Where Megan is still gone...and that’s about it.  Where all I can write about is having nothing to write about, and keep it brief.

I suppose that’s a good thing.  


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  • Linda Tevebaugh Keeling
    commented 2016-08-17 20:20:34 -0700
    Mike…I too feel like you described….then I feel guilty…then feel guilty feeling guilty….I have learned that it is okay to be okay….thanks for sharing…Linda
  • Penny Sharman
    commented 2016-08-16 08:57:59 -0700
    That is absolutely a good thing Mike. This post completely contradicts your previous post about yours and Megan’s anniversary and isn’t that exactly what our widowed lives and the grieving process is like now. You never know from one day to the next. I used to feel guilty when I had a good day, now I take it for what it is – a good day! So this Tuesday, I read your post and said “Me too”, just as I said “Me too” to your previous post.