The Orange Cup

I saw this on Facebook and wanted to share:

"Before I begin, this post is not seeking sympathy. It is merely trying to shed a little light on the total weirdness and unpredictability of grief. Those who have experienced deep loss already know. But for those who have not:

I washed the orange cup today.

'The orange cup' is not a metaphor. It's a small, plastic cup, one of several in a multicolored set. It is perfect for the bathroom sink. It's just big enough for a sip of water in the middle of the night, or to wash down daily meds. I had not washed it since before January 1st. Before you get too grossed out—I had not used it either. You see, that little orange cup is the last thing in the house that Mark's lips touched on January 1st, before he was loaded into an ambulance, never to return. I had picked up the orange cup several times before, thinking it was time to wash it and put it away. But each time it wasn't. I would hug that little cup, cry a little (or a lot), and return it to the counter next to the sink. It wasn't time to wash it—until today. Today, I washed the cup. When my mother died, her house coat (bath robe) was hanging on the back of the door in the bathroom. When my dad died 5 years later, it still hung in the same spot. He had given away or tossed a lot of Mom's items, but just not that house coat. Had he lived another 10 years, I think it may still have been there...or maybe not. Deep, profound grief is just weird. So, keep that in mind when you wonder why grieving people do (or don't do) what you think they should do, or what seems normal. Grief is really weird. They're just not ready to wash the cup."
-Amy Boardman Rejmer

This made me think about all the things that I have of Mom's. It's different than the woman above who lost her husband, I didn't live with Mom so there aren't things that she left in a spot that I haven't moved. But I have her extra frilly, girly lamp that she had on her bedside table, in my bedroom. I have her lapis lazuli rosary hanging on my bedside lamp, just like she had on one of her bedroom lamps. Neither of us were Catholic but she thought rosary beads were pretty and holy so I bought her one for a present years ago.

I have nearly all of her plants, a few pieces of her furniture and knicknacks, some of her jewelry, her Limoges china. Each piece is precious and I think of her watering those plants, dusting and arranging her furniture and knicknacks, wearing the jewelry, and using the Limoges each time I do the same. I miss her like crazy and feel sad and happy and close to her. All the feels :-) And it's good.

I have her entire wardrobe! I couldn't bear to part with it. My dad was starting to go through her clothes and was going to give whatever I didn't want to Goodwill. I loaded the entire closet's contents into my truck and took it home. Remember that crazy huge master closet that I couldn't even come close to filling here in the new house? Mom's clothes filled it full :-) I go in there every so often, step into all the hanging clothes and just breathe for a few minutes. They still smell like her. Recently I went in and filled a Goodwill bag of things I knew for sure I didn't want. It was okay. It felt like it was time.

And just now as I'm writing this, a bright red cardinal just came to perch outside my window ❤️ (Hi Mom!)

It seems lately I've had a lot of unexpected and extra grief and I was trying to figure out why when I realized that my birthday last year was the last time we all had a happy dinner together. And then everything went downhill from there. So, knowing that, I'm recognizing where all the other weird things are coming from now: like wanting to eat my weight in chocolate and feeling weepy at odd times. Ahhh...hello to a new piece of grief—or maybe: welcome to the last three months until the one year mark.

Ok, time to up the "self care" game. I saw this meme this week and thought it was useful, some of them I've not thought of before:

So, in an effort to give myself nutritious sweets before I cave and actually eat my weight in chocolate, I tried to make "good for you cookie bars" using a super ripe banana as the sugar and added dates and pecans and oats—kind of a good for you oatmeal cookie. Yummy, but fell apart. Last night I read about and bought date "sugar" which is just dried and ground up dates. Looks and acts like sugar. Amazing Amazon says it will be here tomorrow and I'll try making a chocolate oatmeal cookie next. We'll see. I'd never heard of dates as a sweetener before until I was at an art festival and this woman gave me a sample of her incredible chocolate bars. If you're a fan of dark chocolate but not a fan of all the physical symptoms that sugar can bring—check her out. I didn't have any physical aches and pains after eating her bars, wow! If you have no physical symptoms from sugar then I hate you and we can't be friends 😜

Anyway! I guess I just wanted to mention to all of you going through newer-than-a-year grief (for whatever reason) that the last few months before you hit the one year anniversary might be a little "extra" and to try to give yourself some compassion and be a little easier on yourself ❤️

THE MEMES:

I try to remember this for myself and for my Dad who doesn't often show his feelings to us:

Ah yes, the photo thing...👇🏽 I wrote about that here. Take all the photos and keep the ones that aren't perfect!

Like this one 😂

And here are a few memes that Mom would laugh about (and me too!):

If you're dealing with all of the grief-y feels, for whatever reason: a death, a move, a kid going off to college, divorce, death of a pet, estrangement, etc please call, text, or email me! Neurofeedback can help!

Read: How Neurofeedback Helps Grief