Oh, This Road....

long, dusty road
Photo from here.
As you know from my last post, my sweet step-dad passed away last week.  The funeral was moving, the eulogies were spot on, and I couldn't believe how many people attended the funeral.  Hal, my step-dad, was loved.  Oh, was he is loved.  Still is loved, I believe.

Strategically, I scheduled a coaching session with Sue after flying back to Maryland from the funeral.  During the funeral and the days that followed, I wanted to be so strong for my mom, my family and for all the visitors who came to offer their condolences and Hal-isms.   Being strong meant that my true feelings didn't have a chance to emerge.  I was grieving.  Actually, I was hidden grieving.  

My conversation with Sue (you know we do all our coaching by phone, right?) soon came to the question, how was I feeling?  Feeling?  Me?  Sad.  Sue, however, has hundreds of tricks up her sleeve. She must have realized that sad wasn't quite enough to capture how I really felt.

Sue asked me what "it" looked like - what the landscape looked like.  The landscape?  My feelings landscape?  To me, my landscape then (and now) looks like a long dusty road.  The road is flanked on both sides by farm land that is dusty and unattended.  It isn't the kind of place you want to stop and take photos (like the gorgeous photo above), but instead it looks hot, dirty, dusty, and lacking life's luster.  

That's how I really feel.  I feel like I am walking down a hot, dusty road surrounded by brown, dry fields.  Sue was right to be onto me.  Sad didn't do justice to how I really felt (or feel).

Sue then asked me to sit down on my road and just be.  I  followed and cried and cried and cried and cried.  I cried so much that I asked Sue to call me back in a few minutes (which she did).  I think that was the first time I really mourned the loss of Hal, our family's new life changes, let out my true feelings and could just be.  Though I don't like the hot dusty road very much, it felt good then (and now) to just sit on the road and be. Hold on a minute....I need to excuse myself and sit down on the road again and cry.

OK...I'm back :)  By the way, I am in a coffee shop right now writing this.  I cried in the bathroom as to not scare the other patrons.

Sue asked if there was anything at the end of the road.  In my mind there is.  The end of the road is green and plush.  It is thick with vegetation and with life.  The end of the road is lovely.

Soooo....

That's where I am.  I am walking ever-so-slowly down my long, hot, dusty, dry road.  I can't sprint as I don't have the energy to do so.  There are times I need to sit down and just be.  There are times I sit and cry.  There are times I imagine I am sitting alone under a beautiful tree engulfed in shade.  There are times I envision others walking down the road with me, holding my hands, one on each side.

Thanks for listening.

Thanks for caring.

Thanks for reaching out your hand to me if you did.  Thanks for not rushing me.

With love.
Jen


10 comments:

  1. you are very inspiring. and, although your journey down that long, hot, dry road will not be pleasant, thank you for sharing it with us. it will help shape us (your readers, friends, students, peers, family, whoever we may be)as it re-shapes you....

    xoxo

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    1. Thanks, Kim. I am definitely getting a reshape.

      Maybe I needed one....

      Jen

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  2. I cry in the shower...

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    Replies
    1. Shelane - I do, too, sometimes. When I want to be alone :)

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  3. What a beautifully written and wonderfully vulnerable post. Thank you for letting us in.

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    1. Unknown - You are welcome. I like letting you all in.... strength in numbers, perhaps.

      Jen

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  4. Love you. Glad you get some R & R and quality family time soon!

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    Replies
    1. Yay, for quality family time. Yay, summer, too.

      Jen

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  5. beautifully written! hugs to you!

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    Replies
    1. Thanks, Lori. Hugs back to your family.

      Jen

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