I hear what they say, but here’s how I’m trying to handle my grief

Grief isn’t easy, and so those of us grieving do well to acknowledge what others have learned about grief.

But I’ve heard three statements, two general and one that applies particularly to me, that I’m reconsidering as I anticipate the coming weeks.

The first year is difficult. Especially the holidays.

But our family’s situation is different for two reasons. For starters, no two holidays have been the same for us since our kids left the nest to make their own homes far away.

Sometimes they’ve come here. Sometimes we’ve gone to them. Sometimes we’ve met at a rental house somewhere in a scenic woods. Sometimes, because of someone’s work or family plans, we’ve waited till the day after to celebrate the holiday.

So, although this year will be different, it’s been different every year. There is no tradition Evelyn’s absence this year will force us to give up. Our only tradition is the commitment to get together. And that is continuing.

We’re eating our Thanksgiving dinner at a restaurant tomorrow. I’m going to my daughter’s place in Knoxville for Christmas. Both of these are firsts, and that’s fine.

One more factor. This is not the first year without Evelyn at our holiday table. That was last year when Evelyn was living at the memory care center. I realized she had lost all sense of calendars and holidays, so I felt OK about driving to my daughter’s home for the Thanksgiving weekend.

We were all together here at Christmas, and we took turns in twos and threes visiting her 30 minutes at a time during Christmas week. I really think that was more difficult than this year will be.

Don’t make any big changes soon after losing your spouse.

But here I am, busy pursuing a momentous change: dramatically downsizing and moving to senior living the second week in January.

I had made that decision weeks before Evelyn died, when I had no idea her death was coming soon. If I had waited till now to commit to a move, I probably wouldn’t have considered it.

Actually, I think handling all the duties and details surrounding this move has been good for me. To keep from being overwhelmed by it all, I tackle at least some project every day. I’ve carted carloads to Goodwill. I’ve given my Christmas tree and Ping-Pong table and potter’s bench to folks from church.

Two of our closest friends came this week and helped me sort through all my Christmas decorations and decide which I didn’t want. And they volunteered to store what I’m keeping till I can think about it all again next Christmas. What a gift!

Once I get moved, I’ll work on several furnishing decisions there. It’s pleasant to think about all new. It will keep me busy for weeks.

I’m aware of the danger that I could crash and burn when all the moving and holiday hubbub is behind me. I’m going to work on preventing that.

I hope you keep writing your blog.

A few have said that, even though the journey I set out to describe in this blog has finished. That’s nice to hear. But I’ve decided to take a hiatus, and I’m guessing the pause will turn out to be permanent.

Here’s why. I think I need the break.

I have lived with a weekly deadline for decades. I edited a weekly magazine and wrote a weekly column about 28 of my 40 years at Standard Publishing. Then I edited or helped write a couple of others’ blogs every week after I retired until I started posting here March 9, 2022.

Although these deadlines have given me an expressive outlet as well as structure to my weeks, I think I should rest from them—at least a while.

They say any subject is worth writing about; the key is the skill of the writer. But I’m not sure I have what it takes to make a chronicle of my grief worthwhile. I’m concerned it would turn into navel-gazing: boring for the reader, and not that helpful for me.

I think it’s time to stop while I’m ahead. I’d rather hear “Please keep writing” than discover most have quit reading.

Maybe in January I’ll feel different and decide I have something worth sharing.

I could start a new blog.
I could try to make a book out of what I’ve already written.
I could take this blog in a different direction.

But right now, I don’t have the energy or time to decide about any of that.

I’m planning to post a retrospective of sorts next week. After that “farewell,” we’ll see how I feel in the new year.

I’ll keep listening to what others are saying about grief, all while working to navigate my own grief realistically, individually, and with integrity.