Wisdom From Trauma

"Making your way in the world today
Takes everything you got
Taking a break from all your worries
It sure would help a lot
Wouldn't you like to get away?"

 

It's difficult finding my way through life without worries and especially sadness but that's a part of life, right?! We all deal with stress, worries and emotional turmoil from time to time.  I am so thankful that God uses these trials and worries to teach me something more lasting and something I can pass on to my children and maybe someone who is struggling with something I have weathered already. I'd like to think I have some modicum of wisdom somewhere in my pea brain. I don't always use that wisdom but it's in there somewhere and it does occasionally show up when I am in need of it.  At 48 I hope I have acquired some wisdom and that I have passed, at least, a tiny bit of it on to my 4 children.  The jury's still out on that. Time will tell.

For instance, I hope that I have taught each of them that the people we love can't and won't live forever but we can still keep pieces of them alive in our memories.  Also that death is not the end, it's just the beginning of the next chapter. Mama has been gone 6 months tomorrow but I am blessed to have many memories that I carry with me and anytime I want I can look back and remember the times I shared with her. Those memories help keep her alive in my mind. I also have the assurance that someday mama and I will be together again in heaven. To be honest I am a bit impatient to see and hug her but it's not my time yet, so in the meantime, I must be patient and wait.

 

I find myself dreaming of mama and how she died, it's disconcerting and heartbreaking.  I'd really rather never think of the way she died, but the mind is a funny thing and that memory is stamped indelibly in my memory bank.  I wake up many mornings with that memory shouting at me for attention and it makes for a very difficult way to start my day. I have to tell myself she didn't suffer much and that she went quickly but I'm not convinced and obviously my brain hasn't reconciled that thought either. I am trusting that it will eventually go quietly into the night and allow me some peace, someday. It's interesting how the mind works.  Mama died almost 6 months ago and I often think of calling her and talking to her, then shortly after I remember that I can't.  She has changed her last address to a new and better heavenly address. We are separated temporarily but I hope she can see me and is at peace with how things ended for her. I'm not sure if there is any wisdom to impart to my children or others in this situation, except maybe the lesson is to focus on the positive memories you made and to realize that your brain is still trying to find peace with the loss of someone so significant to you. Give yourself time to heal from the trauma, be patient and be kind to yourself. Allow your brain to adjust to this new reality. 

 I do understand that anyone who has lost someone they loved dearly knows how I feel,  but to me, it's as if I am the only one feeling this way. I can only assume that is normal, I don't know.  She was my best friend and such a beautiful presence and now she isn't.  Just like that, she isn't. You think it will never happen to you, until it does and then it's just over abruptly and there isn't time to say any last words or get one more hug, nothing! You're just left there trying to accept that your loved one is gone and you have no idea how to go on without them.  Your brain tries to adjust to this new world and it's a bit glitchy if I can be honest.  My brain still hasn't fully accepted she is gone, because sometimes a thought pops out and says I need to call mama and see how she is. Or, oh I want to share something with her, but I can't.  Does it take a year, two years to finally accept your loved one is gone or am I in for a lifetime of this? I suppose only time will tell.  Perhaps the lesson here is patience.  Don't rush it.  Allow yourself to take however long it takes to heal and move on in a positive and healthy way. I am trying to gently remind myself of this very thing.  

I had seriously different plans for mama and me.  She was semi-retired and we were going to see each other more often, go to the coast and take trips this summer, but that all changed suddenly.  Mama was so excited with her new lease on life, she was in remission from cancer and healthy and had such a lovely life ahead of her. I often wonder how God decided that mama's time was over. I have to trust he knows and sees the bigger picture and that this was for the best. I have to remember that someday it'll be made clear and I'll eventually understand. In the meantime, I must come to terms with her being gone. I am working on that. It will take time and it will take perseverance.  The wisdom here is, you can plan your future all you want but God has his own plans for you and they rarely line up perfectly with yours. Surrender and allow God to guide you. I am currently working on this one here.  It's not an easy thing to surrender and let someone else be in control, but it's a necessary thing with God. He sees the bigger picture and I believe he ultimately has our best interest at heart. 

 

 

I will continue to move forward and I truly hope that it will get easier with the passage of time.  I am incredibly blessed to have a large support system and a lot of soft shoulders to cry on. Blessings to you and yours as you go through the days ahead.

"Limitations only exist if you let them" Godspeed...this comes from the Middle English expression "God spede (you)", a wish for success and fortune for one setting out on an enterprise, voyage, adventure, or travels. It may also mean good luck. © 2019 Shannon M. King. This publication is the exclusive property of Shannon M. King and is protected under the US Copyright Act of 1976 and all other applicable international, federal, state and local laws. The contents of this post/story may not be reproduced as a whole or in part, by any means whatsoever, without consent of the author, Shannon M. King. All rights reserved.