Loss

Death seems to have hit my life in a spider-webby sort of way.  Or it has this summer, anyway.  I lost a member of my family of origin, the first member of that family to pass, and the closest person to me who has died. In addition to that death, I am aware that 4 people I know, 3 very well and 1 as an acquaintance, have lost dear animal companions.  Further, an online friend lost her mother suddenly.  My mom reports that Monica's husband's aunt passed last week.  (Monica is my dear sister who now guards me as an angel and began that job on 7/12/15.)  And yesterday, my brand new friend told me that she was visited by the police and a pastor who informed her that her mother had been found on the floor in her Florida condo.  She couldn't reach her mom on the phone on Thursday and started to get worried.  And for good reason.  Her mother had indeed died alone in her bedroom.    So, if we are arranging these angels now, we have 4 people and 4 animals in the span of about 3 weeks.  For me, that is a lot of loss.  Now, obviously I will not grieve for the folks I never met, nor the animals, but it does make my heart hurt a little.  And my heart is very beaten up from the loss of my baby sister.  I actually wish that I didn't care quite so much about anyone else's loss, the tangential ones but, I do.  And that is part of me.  I know how sad those people are.  I know how frustrated they feel and how unfair the situation became.  And I feel it.  Some of it is quite close to me.  I find myself praying for comfort so often that I have begun feeling selfish during my "prayer conversations".  I force myself to focus on some issues or events or people eliciting my gratitude.  I can do that, fairly easily, after I instruct myself.  But, forcing it is unusual for me.  I love being mainly thankful and not so wanting from our Lord.  I won't beat myself up too much about it, remembering that I have to walk through this grieving valley and He wants to comfort me, its not a special treat or something.  It is wrapped up in the combo package that is His love for me.  But, it does feel uncomfortable.  And in a few days, I will physically face everyone in the world who loved my sister, all of us grieving our individual lost relationships with her.  I feel stable at home here now, writing about her and reflecting.  But, when I see the pain on the faces of my parents, that is when I know I will need the Lord the most.  It is easy to sit here and tell myself that she simply finished her journey.  But, it will take some time before I can look at a photograph of her and not weep.



Grateful that she was loaned to a family in which I belonged.

Wow, what a fog

Now, under what's considered normal circumstances for me, fog is something that I adapt to without much hardship anymore.  In the beginning,  the mental fogginess of fibro was truly scary because I remember wondering if I'd had a stroke or something.  But now, I just know to take necessary measures to keep myself safe from injury and I try to minimize whatever stimulation I can so as to not get even more confused.  It no longer really alarms me, it just is what it is.  It is debilitating so much at times that I did give up driving.  So, that's a lot.

Here is how yesterday's fog compares to my regular fog fare.  First, know that I am grieving right now.  I am losing a sibling.  She is not yet gone from this world, but I have said goodbye and I find myself sobbing spontaneously wherever I am, doing whatever activity I happen to be engaged with.  The loss of her will be the closest person to me to be lost and it does feel surreal.   Yesterday, I left my stove on for 4 hours.  Yup.  No, not a gas stove, so no flame.  Just burned up a teapot. ( I have a kind that doesn't whistle.)  I would say that in regular fog I sort of swim through brownie-like batter (might as well have yummy descriptions, right?) mentally.  So, ok imagine that.  Now, I find myself sludging through a pot of yesterdays breakfast oatmeal still in the pot on the stove.  There is a whisper of moisture for me to try to grab on and swim/push myself through but, really, after only one step, I'm so exhausted that I could literally sleep.  Oh, and also, in the brand new spot, I now have no idea why I'm there nor how to navigate anywhere else.

I was speaking with a woman at our insurance company the other day, and for maybe only the second or third time in my 10 years with this, Tim came over and just gently took the phone from me and took care of the conversation and issue.  I simply could not be understood, not by the woman on the other end, nor even by him, and he even speaks Marie-fog (well, he doesn't speak it so much as he is fluent in understanding it).

Do you see the problem?  It does not bode well for one's safety when one is so stuck, so surrounded by the inability to even recognize the familiar.  No, it is more the lack of understanding outside stimuli in any sequential way.  Puzzle pieces do not fit.  None of them.  At all.  In fact, I've got about 10 pieces each from about 50 different puzzles to try to get some coherent understanding of my immediate future from.  I can do something tangible.  I can physically crochet.  But I cannot talk about what I'm making or why.    I can physically get food out of the refrigerator.  But I cannot figure out what to eat among that food.  There are just random containers of stuff sitting on the counter.
I can call a loved one with a specific fact in mind to convey, and I am only successful if I write it down on paper and read it.  Yesterday's oatmeal is just not a place you want to find yourself.

I'm a pretty decisive personality.  Historically sometimes, too much so.  I decide to act, and then there is no going gently, I act.  I am used to that kind of behavior and I'm good at it.  Now, I find myself  walking, and then standing in a room with no idea why and still unable to decide what to do about it.  I stand there just looking around that room for who knows how long.  Should I stay there?  Leave?  What's up with this room?  Anything good going on in here?  Why does it even exist?

I know fog during grief is common.  I also know that for me, fog is one of my regular fibro symptoms.  But, for the measure of grief I now bear, the fog will be deeper and darker than ever before.  And I predict it will last a long time.  I will miss my sister for the rest of my days, even though she is not yet quite gone.