March 26, 2019

Dear friend,

Thank you for your card.  Your family has come into my mind in the last few months and responding to your card gives me an excuse to write to you.  Although I have had plenty of people willing to listen to me work through my thoughts in my life lately, there are some topics that only seem to make sense to moms who have lost a child.

Back in January, a few trusted friends suggested that our family should take part in a grief support group program.  We waited until there was an opening in a group where families had also lost a child/sibling and have only participated in two of the sessions so far.  I don’t know how familiar you are with these kinds of groups, but in this one we come together for a meal as families first.  Then the kids head down to a separate space where they have an opening (with a carefully selected question), free time in one of the rooms that are staged with grieving kids in mind, and come together for a closing time.  The adults gather together with a facilitator and have a topic for the evening, or can bring up specific issues as they see fit.

Although no one in our family particularly enjoys sitting in a group and talking about our feelings, I think this will be a good experience for us.  At the very least, it gives us the space and excuse to think about some difficult topics.  I have a feeling that the best part of these sessions will be the 20 minute drive home when Matt and I can talk with Kate and Ethan about the topics covered.

Being with some of these other moms has made me feel less alone in my journey, too.  Even though there should be fewer of us in this particular club, I am comforted to know that I am not the only one.

One of the thoughts I’ve had that I can’t seem to get across to Matt very effectively has to do with my heart.  A month ago or so, I started thinking about building up my emotional stamina.  I do a lot better when I have the time and space to think and feel what I want, without others around.  However, I couldn’t stay in my protective bubble forever. 

So, I started slowly with church activities … first attending church (we started that part of life as a family in mid-January), then helping with Sunday School like I had been doing, followed by helping to facilitate the confirmation program on Wednesday evenings.

I also had to find some good daytime friends to take walks with me.  Anna’s life took up a lot of my time and mental energy, so I found myself having to redefine who I was and how I would spend my time.

As my energy and attitude continued to increase, I cleaned out many parts of our home that hadn’t been sorted through in several years.  Some of it was hard for my heart, but it all needed to be done.

About that time, we also rejoined activities for our 4H club.  Again, small steps with plenty of knowns.  Unstructured social events were the most difficult for me in January and February.

The next big jump was to begin substitute teaching again.  As a family we had decided that substitute teaching in our district would be a good fit for us starting this school year.  In November and December, I took a few different positions as substitute aides, so I had already begun to develop some relationships by Christmas.

My first position this spring was a half-day one at the high school.  I foolishly thought that I would be able to remain fairly anonymous and just slip in to do my job for a few hours.  Without going into all of the details, I was anything but anonymous that afternoon and ran into more people than I had at any previous time in the high school.  I learned that 4 hours was about all my heart could handle that week.  The following week, I took a full day job at the high school, which went much more smoothly than the previous one.

With my confidence growing, I took a position the next week at the intermediate school where Kate attends and Anna attended for the last three years (although not this school year; she had moved on to the middle school).  Most everyone would know who I was the moment they saw me.  As the day approached, another position was posted for the same employee for the next day, so I took that one, too.  I managed those days just fine until about lunchtime on the second day.  Then, if I had been given the choice, I would have loved to just go home and curl up in bed.  My heart wanted to be done, but I plugged through until the end of the school day.

Sometimes I can feel the sadness as a tightness in my chest.  It’s different than the deep hurt of the first few days and weeks after Anna’s passing.  It’s not overwhelming, but it makes me want to curl up and hide when I feel it.  If I’m around others and I need to keep going, then the tightness slowly spreads to my face and eyes.  I don’t know what it looks like to others, but to me it feels like I’m trying to smile with my mouth and yet that smile can’t quite penetrate the rest of my face … especially my eyes.

I feel like I’m in a delicate balance with my heart.  I don’t want to push myself too much now and get used to building these walls around my heart.  I have seen others be forced to go through that experience and have witnessed how it can create a bitterness and callousness in their life that clouds their perceptions of everything.  I still want to feel things.  I want to see the difficultly in the lives of others so that I can (hopefully) find a way to make it easier for them.  But my heart can only take so much.

Balance.  Our life has always been about balance.  Balancing the needs of our kids based on their ages and abilities.  Helping Matt find a balance between work and family.  Balancing my own needs with those of the rest of the family.  Now it’s about balancing how much pain I can see before it’s too much for me.

But, as Matt reminded me when I tried to explain this to him, stretching helps us grow.  I learned last week that two days in a row of subbing was maybe too much at that time.  But it may not be too much next time.

I hope your family is doing well.  Perhaps our lives will continue to connect.

Sara