Yesterday I was in the produce section of the market, and noticed a child helping her mother. She was reaching up, trying to grab ahold of a plastic produce bag from the dispenser, but she just wasn’t quite tall enough. Even on tip toes, she missed by about 2″. I smiled at both her and her mom, and commented that she needed to grow just a little more. They smiled back, and I could tell by the girl’s reaction and her height that she had just finished fourth grade and would be entering fifth grade in the fall. I felt a stab of grief. Her face so perfectly expressed the common energy of 10/11 year olds, and I realized again how much I miss a classroom full of those faces, eagerly looking at me, waiting to laugh at my jokes, learn new things, and to let their minds blossom into abstract thinking that is a whole new way for them of looking at the world. They are just beginning to see the interconnection of different ideas, facts, and applications. And when their faces light up with excitement over understanding something new, it is one of the best highs in the world. Fifth graders are the best students on the planet to teach, and I still miss it. If my collapsed immune system hadn’t forced my early retirement, I would still be teaching for a few more years. I haven’t yet hit normal retirement age. It’s not that my current life isn’t joyous. It is. And there are new experiences that are open to me now. But when you have lost something you love, through no choice of your own, it hurts. Over time, the loss gets less intense, but it is always there. Sometimes it rises up inside, surprising you with its intensity, and you find that you have some more grieving to do.
11 thoughts on “A Stab of Grief”
Thanks and definitely check out my blog when you get a chance
Will do. 🙂
(Sorry for my english). Probably your energy is necessary to other people now. Think positive. Your early retirement will offer you the necessary time to write more about living with the disease. Maybe you will even write a book. I haven’t the time to read all your blog. Are there articles about living a whole day, on hours, with the desease? I think that this the kind of information that someone who has been diagnosed now with CVID or other desease is looking for. Just how to live with. Writing on my blog, I understood that nobody was interested about my feelings. The readers are looking for concrete advices, something to help them. They are interessed only about their life, about their story. Only few of them have the energy and time to read about someonelses feelings.When I understood this, I cut off some of my posts and I began to write very concentrate, strictly on what would be necesarry to someone who take care of an Alzheimer patient. I try to give them hope, but I tell them nothing about my feelings. So, would you, please, begin to write some articles about the daily living with CVID, from the begining of the day until the night?
Thank you so much for your thoughtful comment, Cecelia. I do write some about the daily struggles of living with CVID. You might check out my category of “Taking Care of Ourselves.” You can find the category list in the footer of my blog. You are absolutely correct, though, that people who are chronically ill often don’t have the time or the energy to read a lot of blogs. (Or anything else for that matter.) I try to write about the daily struggles, but also about other things so that people with serious medical conditions can see that there is hope for including some things in their life other than their illness. But I can see that some more posts on daily life would be helpful too. Thank you for the suggestion, and I will work on writing some of those.
You have a beautiful name. You are named after one of my favorite saints. Did you know that Saint Cecilia is the patron saint of musicians? Since I am a singer, she is one of my favorites. And your English is wonderful!!! Don’t apologize. Your English is light years better than my Romanian! (In English we often use “light years” to describe a really, really large distance.) I was able to read a little on your blog relying on my very, very basic French, a few words of Spanish, and some high school Latin. After trying to read several pages, though, I finally had to run it through a translation. The Google translator was terrible! Really really terrible. It just translated things word for word, rather than getting the overall meaning of a sentence. Have you ever thought of offering to translate on WordPress, now that your mother is in a full care facility? It sounds like a good one, by the way. I’m sure it must have been both very hard, and something of a relief, when you could no longer care for her, and had to find a place that would do a good job of caring for her. They seem kind, reading your posts. Please keep in touch, an continue to let me know your thoughts!
I will read the section Taking Care of Ourselves, thank you.
My mother has passed away a some weeks ago, in may, but I shall continue to write on the blog, it is necessary. I shall try to translate my articles. It will take time to do il well because I have a job, because I still feel like in a period of convalescence, there were terrible years for me.
Here, the caregivers do not receive any printed informative materials, this is why I made the blog. On the internet we can fiind a lot of theory, but theory do not teach you how to take care of someone who has Alzheimer, do not teach you even how to obtain the certificate. There are simple things that the family must know, about how to speak with him, about how to take care of him especially in the first years, when he looks normal but forgets his adress or eats soap, until the period when he begins to have hallucinations. I didnt fiind any information about it. It is a lack of information.
About my name. I know the whole story of Saint Cecilia and I hope to go someday to Rome, to visit the places where she lived. It is extraordinary that you sing and that it is more than a hobby.
I’m sorry that the last years of your mother’s life were so difficult for both of you. I know that your mourning is complicated by all that happened in her final years.
I wasn’t necessarily suggesting that you translate all of your articles. That would be a tremendous amount of work!! It was more a suggestion of translating, perhaps, a few of the ones you thought might be most helpful internationally, maybe just 3 or four. Please don’t think this is something you need to do. It was just a suggestion of something that I thought you might find helpful as you work through the difficult grief.
But it is a good ideea. The patients are not similars but the problems of the caregivers are the same. I shall try to translate some. Thank you.
Take care of you.
You’re welcome. Take care of yourself as well!