Expectations

If I were to choose one word to describe the grieving process, it would have to be unexpected. .

When Steve passed away, it was unexpected. When he was hospitalized and put on a ventilator, we knew losing him was a possibility. But when it came right down to it, no one truly expected him to die.

While my dad was very ill and suffering, losing him the week after Steve passed away was yet another unexpected event. I knew that he did not have the quality of life he wanted and that he was very sick, but my dad had survived a stroke and had been living with Parkinson’s for many years.

How was it possible that he lost his battle so closely to Steve losing his? His death added another layer of grief to my already overflowing plate. It was expected, yet unexpected.

I am fairly certain that is true for most people who lose a loved one. I may be wrong, but I bet even people who are given a poor prognosis, still do not expect to die.

I think it is only human nature to hold onto hope and when someone passes away, it is never truly expected, whether it be in a horrific accident, illness or due to a debilitating disease.

So, death can probably always be defined as unexpected.

I had never really lost a close family member until I lost Steve and my dad. I guess I am blessed in that I got all the way to 52 without a ton of experience with grief. Everything about the grieving process was truly unexpected for me.

I tried to read books on grief so that I knew what to expect but I would literally read a few pages and then need to put the book down. I didn’t want to read about it because I was living it.

I spent the first few months after Steve got ill thinking I didn’t need to eat and I could survive solely on water.

I had plenty of visitors and food was sent on a regular basis, but what I didn’t expect was my inability to actually eat.

Eating was so hard. I tried to set a good example for my kids but eating just wasn’t an option for me.

Unfortunately, this unexpected behavior landed me in the ER, dehydrated and needing fluids. Being rolled out of my home on a stretcher in front of my children, family and friends was unexpected. But that visit to the ER, alone (Covid protocol) and afraid, opened my eyes to the consequences of my behavior.

I knew I had to make a change.

I will tell anyone who is new to grieving, you must eat. I know it may be difficult, but it is a necessity. If you have a family member or friend who is grieving and not eating, understand just how difficult it is.

Having to complete so many home repairs has been one of my biggest unexpected hurdles. I knew our house needed a lot of work, but I didn’t really expect to have to do it all on my own.

In the last 9 months, I have realized we need a new roof, gutters, and downspouts.

I have had to waterproof the basement and rebuild our chimney.

I have had wasps invade my home and sting my dog (yes, you read that correctly) and I am currently dealing with a mouse infestation (we have never seen a single mouse in our home until now).

These are, obviously, all unexpected events. But these unexpected events have opened my eyes to the fact that I am a very capable and independent woman.

I now know I can handle almost anything thrown my way.

I now know to expect problems with our home.

Another difficult aspect of loss is returning to life.

While work has been cathartic for me, social events contain all sorts of unexpected moments.

No matter how much I mentally prepare for an event, something unexpected always occurs.

People you haven’t seen in awhile truly don’t know how to react when they see you. Since Steve and my dad passed away while everyone was still quarantining, many people haven’t seen me in over 9 months.

Each time someone approaches me and the loss is brought to the surface, I need to take a moment to bring myself back to the present.

I have worked hard to get where I am.

I hope people know that when I respond to their condolences, it is done with purpose and self preservation.

As time has progressed, I find myself laughing and enjoying life more often.

Finding happiness again was definitely unexpected and guilt ridden.

When I caught myself laughing or smiling, I would stop for a moment and look around wondering if those around me were judging me because I was demonstrating happiness.

I have since learned that people WANT me to be happy.

One of my colleagues told me a story the other day that made this point inherently clear. I had made a joke which may have been a little on the inappropriate side (for those of you that truly know me, I’m sure you can only imagine what I said). The colleague I shared the joke with, then shared the joke with our office staff. (It was a good joke!)

One of the women in the office replied with, “I think we have our Marci back.”

That one small comment, brought a huge smile to my face.

I am learning to expect the unexpected and to live each day as it is presented.

In spite of all of the unexpected events that have occurred, I am expecting to be Marci again.