Reinvestment

From the last paragraph of The Medicine Woman of Galveston by Amanda Skenandore:

The storm's ravages had not only opened her eyes, but her heart and mind as well. What mattered was the present moment. The people she was with. She may never be fully free from he past, and the future might bring more struggle. But the here and now wasn't a place to hide. It was hers to live.

Recently I''ve had a couple of markers: days that told me something about the life I'm currently living. I realize that much happens and I don't get to this blog to share it. But after yesterday, I felt it was really necessary to make that time today.

Getting back to some semblance of a writing life has not been easy, but I'm progressing, even if it's a snails pace. When I find a piece of writing I have done on one of my many blogs or elsewhere, I'm always so glad I had taken the time to write it down. Most often it is because I'm talking about something I've long forgotten, and I'm pleasantly surprised to hear the story again.

I've been a bit remiss on keeping up with changes in how I'm feeling and progressing. Today I correct that!

The first marker was October 7th, which was the one year anniversary of Jim's transition. I truly did not know how I would feel on that day, and I was dreading it a little bit. I was planning on keeping the day open, but then I signed up for a month of fitness classes and the first one (gentle yoga) was that morning. I went and it was wonderful. And the whole day was just fine as well. 

What I came to realize was the day was a marker for me. It was, Okay, Helen, you've made it a year now. I was sad on our birthdays and our anniversary because those were days to celebrate. But his death day isn't a celebration. It's a private remembrance and a reminder that I need to keep moving forward. 

This is important because over the past year I've given myself a lot of grace and time, saying to myself "just a year." Of course, I will continue to take any time I need. But honestly, I want to get on with things. And that's a new feeling.

The next step was my feelings about my Hope Hospice Bereavement Group. They have been a mainstay of my healing, a group of friends who "get it," and we can talk about literally anything with each other (and do.) I loved how they help me, and I love helping them. 

Yet, I was feeling it might be time to move on. I would feel it, then doubt it. I finally said, well, just go through the end of October. I gave myself a deadline so I could think on it.

Then yesterday morning came. I had spent nearly 12 hours on Tuesday working with students and teachers to put on the Cypress Lake Middle School Talent Show (which was grand!), and boy, I was tired come Wednesday morning. I didn't feel like going to my group. But I didn't know if it was because I was tired or if I just didn't need to go anymore.

I decided to go with this question in mind: Do I need to come back?

We had a large group, by no newbies. This allowed our counselor Renee to shake things up a bit. She had a graphic called The Journey of Grief.  It was a drawing of a nature scene with flowers, trees, and a valley. Underneath were six words with descriptors, representing the path we take through grief:

Loss

Protest

Searching

Despair

Reorganization

Reinvestment

Renee asked us to look at the graphic and decide where we were in the process. It took me barely a minute to identify the final word: REINVESTMENT.

I waited through the 1-1/2 hour meeting as all the other participants spoke. I found myself impatient, which I didn't want to be, so I tried to tamp that down. Finally it was my turn. I gave the reasons I thought REINVESTMENT was my word. I have had a more stabilizing sense of self as I've gained strength and a clearer mind. I feel a new identity emerging. I am giving back. I talked about the time spent on the Talent Show and how this one boy, Lincoln (who dances a mean Michael Jackson style) asked me this question: What is your art? What makes your heart sing? 

Creative writing.

REINVESTMENT is about where I put my time. I have been saying I want to move back to more dedicated writing time, but I need to MAKE that time. My impatience with sitting in the meeting, even though I know how vital it is for all involved, is that I've come to a place where I need to spend my time in the right places. I can't just say, Give it a year anymore. It is a new year, a new time, a new threshold. I need to honor that. And I hope all of them will do the same when their time comes.

Through good times and bad

Impermanence is our friend

 When we know, we know

Our time is now here

To reinvest in ourselves.