Pause, Take a Breath
I’m preparing to launch myself into another big road trip in my camper. This one will last about two months, similar length to the one I took in 2023 when I followed my Larson ancestors on their 1938 epic family trip from Fredonia, New York to Bakersfield, California and back. For this trip I picked another theme, which gives me some structure to plan around. Sadie will be with me and I will follow the Lewis and Clark Corps of Discovery journey from St. Louis to the Pacific Ocean, then come back through Vancouver and the Canadian Rockies to Sault Ste. Marie and down into Michigan.
Of course, since the original Lewis and Clark trip in 1804, much has changed. Rivers have been dammed up. Roads have been built. Forests have been destroyed. Cities have arisen. But the route can still (roughly) be followed, and traverses a part of the country I have never visited, so it seems like a reasonable baseline for shaping a road trip. Lots to do to get ready!
I’m super excited about the trip and should be deep into the planning weeds since I am leaving on August 20. I’ve made some progress, but find myself spending more of my time thinking about the book I am working on and writing various passages for that. It is a memoir about my journey through Jay’s illness, the aftermath of losing him, and how I forged my path without him. Eventually my patchwork quilt of literary fragments will need to be stitched together into a coherent whole, but I’m not quite ready for that yet. Instead, I pick and choose different, disconnected, passages to write about based on how I’m feeling on a given day or week. Some of the writing evokes strong emotions and I can only work on them when I am in the right state of mind, while other pieces are less fraught and easier to spend time with.
Last week was one of the more difficult weeks because I was writing about the moment I learned that something was horrifically wrong with Jay. To do the piece justice I had to relive those moments while trying to convey the emotional experience on paper. Doing so brought back all the images and memories that live in my head from that time, along with the chaos and fear and surreal atmosphere of that first week in the hospital when we learned his diagnosis. I’m happy with the way the piece has turned out so far, and it gives me a good baseline from which to edit and refine, but it has left Jay’s absence closer to the surface of my daily life than usual.
The craft party I wrote about in the last blog post was a perfect end to that difficult week, and now you know where my thoughts on the importance of friendship rituals in my life came from. My soul was fed that day by those incredible people, and life continues.
Today I was cleaning off my desk and came across a small journal that apparently I started when I was attending a grief support group in 2018. I wrote some brief reflections based on a set of prompts that had been given to us, and decided to share portions of it here:
July 30, 2018 (Jay died on Feb 11, 2018 - this entry was written after Jay’s appreciation event in May, and after I returned from a two month “getting away from it all” international escape trip to Europe and Africa in June and July. After returning from that trip I hoped that the support group would help me adjust to living in my empty house. Conrad was in New York, adjusting to his first “real” job after graduating from college and then losing his dad)
What is life still expecting from me?
return to work
be there for Conrad
be there for my mother and rest of family as needed
joy
appreciation for what I still have
heal and move forward
fully engage with friends, family, colleagues
advocate for peace and justice
Thoughts that bring me comfort
Jay got to see Conrad launch
Jay achieved his goal of providing financial stability to family and he knew we were going to be ok
with all our ups and downs we had a good marriage
I have the ability to manage things without Jay and to build the support system I need
my family and friends are close by and ready to help
Things I am grateful for
unbelievable outpouring of support and assistance when Jay got sick and beyond
Conrad’s ability to manage his life and my closeness to him
I was able to tell Jay what I needed to say and apologized for harm I caused and thanked him for everything he did for us
my house and my health
my good friends who frequently check in on me and insist we get together on a regular basis
What I’ve learned through Grief
it’s a painful, unpredictable process
I need to take life one day at a time
“Life goes on” around me but also within me
I know I’ll get through it and heal but I’ll never be the same person I was before Jay got sick
Still rings true today. One more thing I’ve learned: Healing is a relative term. The grief may recede but is never gone. When it bubbles up to the surface, best to let the moment run its course.
Hold your loved ones close.
