Space to grieve

I've noticed from the beginning that Will's grieving time frame always looked quite different from the way and time I grieved. I thought our time frames would sync back up after he regained his short term memory. It's been at least a year now that I feel like his short term memory is pretty much pre-stroke levels, and my hypothesis that we would sync up has fallen straight on it's face.

I'm sure this is not a surprise to many of our readers, but we all grieve differently. The other night something was really bothering Will. I threw in some assumptions about his sadness and then moved on to feel angry that he was sad-- I felt like, we don't have time to focus on the past, we have so much to do and need to move on. Well I was wrong. Will had already "grieved" over the loss of not becoming a doctor(for now). He was grieving about the new mess this solution has presented "who will take him in now?"It's really hard to get a job as a doctor, in another career field.

I guess my point is: First it is never OK for us to tell someone when they "should" be done grieving. We all need to move through our emotions in the timeframe that is right for us. Second, we should be aware of what is really bothering the said person. Problems and losses that we face are more complex than- "just get over it" or "just move on." We need to give people space to grieve so they can move on when the time is right for them. If that grieving process looks different than our own grief or lasts longer than our own grief than we need to be patient and understanding. I don't know if any of this information is earth shattering to you- but it was for me. It feels like something that is obvious but it is so hard to let people live and learn and not to step in. We all need space to grow. The best advice I can give myself is to "trust that the ones you love will make the right choices." As they are given that space to grow and experience loss and trial, they may have more self confidence because they "solved" their own problems. We can do hard things, and so can the people we love. Trust me ;)

Bringing hope

I've been thinking lately a lot about unfair stereotypes and judgements that keep people like Will from getting a job. I've had moments where I've wanted to take on all of the employers who have brushed past Will's resume.  I am convinced that we all have hidden insecurities that cause us to reject those less fortunate or less able. I wish I could wash that all away-- in fact I wish I could say that because my husband is at times unjustly judged, that I don't judge others unfairly.There is more need than ever to treat others fairly. Too many people live under a covering of misplaced labels and under-appreciated abilities. I know we can do better.  The next time you look the other way when you see hunger or misery- instead see value and bring hope. 

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Lost in the mix

There is the before and the after. Before Will did or was like this… after the stroke Will did or was like this… I admit that sometimes I obsess over what he was like before the stroke.

Will has always been an incredibly secure person. He never puts people down and he doesn't feel the need to boast about how he is better than any one. One day I was driving in the car with my honey and asked him-- have you ever had an identity crisis?  He laughed and said he didn't remember any growing up but that he was "having one now if that counts."  So much of who we are and how we treat one another stems from how we feel about ourselves. So much of what we feel about ourself can be influenced by how we perform in crowds, or scholastics, or sports, or you name it. So for someone like Will- who was a doctor and who now is not a doctor and not working in the medical field or any real field of worldly significance-- what must he feel? How must he feel? I  have to tell you my heart has broken more than once at some of the responses he has given me to this question. When I say this I'm not saying he hates himself or puts himself down-- but lets be honest sometimes he feels like he did something terribly wrong to deserve a stroke. Or sometimes he feels bad that he can't provide more for the family. So at the end of the day what really matters?

The more I live in this world -- with so many surprises and so many heartbreaks-- the more I realize that so many people feel very badly about themselves. The stroke, five years ago, could have been the beginning of a lot of anger and despair. I admit, unfortunately, it has caused some of that, but we are learning. Will is learning, to see his value in different ways than he saw it before. I think this takes courage. I hope that anyone reading this blog who feels torn down might learn to see themselves in a different way-- not in the way the world sees us, but the ways God sees us. We are wonderful. We are beautiful.  Stroke or no stroke, job or no job, single or married, married or divorced, content or depressed-- these things change us but they don't have to ruin us.  What really matters is you. Rise up to the challenge - and you'll see extraordinary things in your life.