Completion

Five days ago, my last term towards my Bachelor's Degree ended and I officially completed all the requirements towards my degree.  On Monday I woke up in the midst of an identity crisis.  I had no school to do, no clients who needed me and I felt lost.  Here it is five days later and I don't know where the week has gone.  Although I do have a house that is cleaner than it has been in a long time.  ;-) 
I spent Monday printing out paperwork for my Washington State licensing requirements.  I took a required training and test and then started to get overwhelmed with all I had left to do.  I had promised myself some down time and time off, but I was immediately throwing myself into the next stage of this process for me.  By Tuesday I decided I needed to give myself some time to recuperate from the last two years and reflect on all that has occurred.

It has been a remarkable two years when I look back on it.  Two years ago, I had just taken the leap and started back to school.  Mom was doing reasonably well and I was adjusting to adding studies into my schedule.  Six weeks later, mom would be gone and my life was turned upside down.  I can't quite explain how much I wanted to quit school.  It seemed like too much.  But I completed my first term with two As and on the day of mom's cemetery service, I started my second term truly wondering if I would complete it.  But I did.  It's the only term I received anything lower than an A and that B+ still bugs me, but it is also a reminder of where my head truly was during those 8 weeks of that term.  I was grieving and powering through school and doula clients and teaching.  Those were my distractions.  They gave me the ability to push down that grief.  But that B+ reminds me that it was still there.  Nonetheless, I completed that term and ten more terms after that.  96 weeks out of the last 104 were spent in school.  I never gave up, I never slacked off.  I just received my feedback for one of my two last classes which was a simple elective.  I could have allowed myself to take it easy in that class...I just needed the credits...but my instructor informed me I received the highest grade in class receiving 624 out of 625 points. 

I look back and wonder how I did this.  When I started 2 years ago, my goal was to get all As and Bs, although I told myself that a C would be acceptable in Statistics.  And yet, here I am graduate with nearly a 3.98... Summa Cum Laude.  And truly...I believe it was my mom.  I did this for her.  Yes, I did it for me too...but every time I found myself frustrated and wanting to give up, it was as though I could hear her pushing me forward.  At times I think she held me up.  She kept me awake.  She gave me the words I couldn't find sometimes.  I knew how proud she was of me for going back to school.  I knew that was something that gave her great happiness in her final days.  And because of that, there was no option of quitting.  There was no option of giving up...even when I wanted to.  I often thought of this time...the time after I was done...and I knew I would feel exactly as I do.  I DID IT!  It is an enormous accomplishment for me.  I have learned so much about myself along the way and what I am capable of.  And I don't think there is any stopping me now.  No one can take my Bachelor's Degree away from me.  My dreams are coming true.  And there is a part of me that wonders how much of this would have happened if mom hadn't gotten sick.

I've shared so much of our relationship here, but it was tumultuous to say the least.  But when she got sick, I had a strong desire for her to be proud of me.  It was something I was always looking for and I could certainly diagnose myself psychologically speaking.  Nonetheless, I needed her to be proud of me when she left this world.  And I believe she was.  And I believe she is incredibly proud of me right now.  And that...that is what I miss.  I miss not being able to hear her tell me.  I physically miss that.  It hurts me so deeply that I can't hear the happiness in her voice.  Oh, I can hear it in my head.  But I would give almost anything to actually hear her reaction. 

But that won't come anywhere but in my head and I just have to believe that she is looking down smiling at the person I am today.  In the past two years, I have worked SO hard in addition to buying a house and getting married.  The past 6 years have been an incredible journey and although I'd prefer to not go through some of it ever again, there is quite a bit I am very proud of and I'm happy with the person I am today and I think mom would see that.

There is still much work to be done...my Masters program starts in 4 months.  But for now, I am enjoying the end of this part of my journey.  I wish mom was here to share it with me, but I do credit her for getting me to this place. 

On a different note: September is National Ovarian Cancer month.  A teal ribbon is in support of Ovarian Cancer.  And here's the link to the National Ovarian Cancer Coalition: http://www.ovarian.org/

 

Six Weeks, Two Days

I have two incredible clients who had babies on this day in years past. I started my day with seeing birthday posts from both of them and thinking about my history on this day.

But today I spent the day driving up north to see my best friend who contacted me last night to tell me she was in the hospital with kidney failure. Kidney failure at 42! My best friend! My only friend from high school. The person who has been by my side through thick and thin for the past 25 years. Today is 6 weeks, 2 days into my LAST 8 weeks of school. 6 weeks, 2 days into my FIRST 8 weeks of school, my mom died. The symbolism was not lost on me this morning as I drove back to the hospital where I spent so much time with my mom. The hospital where so much of my life was reviewed and questioned and answered and altered. Driving up to that parking garage took my breath away.

The new wing is done at the hospital...they had been working on it when mom was in the hospital. It's beautiful, but I felt numb even walking through the new hallways. I didn't expect to be back there so quickly...certainly not for my best friend. She looked good, but her blood pressure was up and she was on a strict diet for kidney issues. And she still has 2-4 more days at the hospital which tells me she is still sick. And I instantly found myself wanting to ask questions and get answers because no one seemed to be giving any to her. It's interesting how I go into "Doula mode" upon walking into a hospital.

Tonight I sit trying to catch up on school. I am stressed. My life is changing in so many ways. And my best friend is sitting in the hospital. She is the one I call when I need support. If mom was still here I would call her to talk to her right now. But now I sit and mull over everything in my head. And the two most important women in my life are unavailable to talk to. I'm learning to handle things on my own. I can only dump so much on Olly. But I have a lot of questions right now and not a lot of answers. And I hate not having answers...even when I know there are none to be had.

It's the Jaderlund family reunion this weekend. I know some of you read this blog, so please just take this as my musings...but as the day approaches, so does my apprehension. I haven't been to the reunion in years. The last time I went, I was in the throes of postpartum depression and in a terrible marriage and trying to play off both of those things like they weren't happening. It didn't go well. And I haven't been back, mainly because I've been on-call ever since. This is the first year I'm not. And I feel like I need to represent mom's part of the family. Dad is going to go...but I'm the next generation and then my children comprise the generation after me. But I'm apprehensive. I'm realizing the whole day may be harder than I anticipated. And I'm finding myself doing a lot of slow breathing when thinking about it all.

Add that to the fact that I'm down to 12 days of school. 12 DAYS! And out of those 12 days I really only have 3 full days to get stuff done. The rest of the days are filled with work or other events that only leave me 1/2 days or no time at all. And that is overwhelming. I know I'll get it done and I'll survive but right this moment, life is incredibly overwhelming. And today has pushed me over the edge a bit.

And so I breathe.

And believe my best friend will be okay, because I don't believe that in any decent and just world, I could lose her. And I'm determined to believe that I live in a decent and just world...regardless of what parts of my brain may try to tell me sometimes.

Longer and Longer

It's been 4 & 1/2 months since my last post. As I said back in February, I struggle with coming here. My days continue on without my mom. It's been 20 months. I recently survived my 2nd birthday and Mother's Day without my mom and what would have been her 75th birthday just passed earlier this month. Mother's Day is still very hard and I anticipate it will be for some time. It's almost surreal to watch people looking for Mother's Day cards and knowing I have no mother to buy one for anymore.

Outside of the above dates, there have been several moments this year that have been momentous for me. I bought a house in March. Boy did I work hard to get to this place. I know mom would be so happy for me. Olly and I were married in April. And I am approaching graduation. I recently received feedback on my rough draft of my senior project. This is the culmination of the last two years of hard work for me. The work that began six weeks before mom died. The feedback began, "Kelli, this is one of the best papers I have read in a very long time..." As I read through the rest of my advisor's feedback, I found myself in tears. I have wanted to talk to my mom over the past 20 months at various times, but as I was reading that feedback it was the first time I so desperately wanted to pick up the phone and call my mom. I needed to talk to her. I KNOW she would be so incredibly proud of me. The kind of proud only a mother has for her children. How I wanted to hear that. I am very proud of myself, but how I wanted to share this incredible accomplishment with my mom. I did talk to dad and he expressed to me how proud he is and how he knows how proud my mom would be and I appreciated all of that and it meant so much to me. But I was surprised at how much I needed my mom at that moment and how much it hurt that she wasn't there.

And I'm surprised that I still get surprised. There are days when I feel like I've adjusted so well and then there are still moments where I completely crumble. And even though I am open to those moments and I let them come in...I admit, they still surprise me. Why I'm still surprised, I don't know. Probably because they just hit out of nowhere...out of the blue. Something small and silly usually cues a reaction in me and I find myself in tears.

As I approach the end of my Bachelor's Degree, it is such an amazing accomplishment at 42 years old, but there is a little part of me that wonders if I haven't thrown my grief into school. I have been in classes for 87 of the last 95 weeks. I have one more week in this term and then 8 weeks of my last term and I'm done with this step of my education. I have a 3.97 GPA. I only have one B+ and that was in the term right after mom died. Everything else has been an A. School has been a place to direct my brain. I have to admit that I worry about school ending and my brain having to deal with reality. But I start my Masters program in January and then likely my Doctorate 2 years after that. Is school my grief therapy? I don't know. Maybe I'm not ready to find out.

What I know is that I am very ready to start my new career. I feel I have renewed my passion for the postpartum period with my senior project and have recently learned that my passion for grief therapy is very powerful for me as well. I know without a doubt I am heading in the right direction. I have 2 Doula clients left. I will no longer be a full-time Doula by mid-August. It's odd. And a life transition...which makes it scary. But I truly know I'm following the right path.

And I feel like I have a light shining on that path for me. I feel that I have guidance that I would likely not have had without my mom's death. Is it my mom or is it the lessons I've learned in losing her? Maybe it's both. But I certainly feel that without all the experiences of the past two years, I would not be where I am today. And I know that it is exactly where I am supposed to be.

Words

Three months. Three months today since I posted last. It is not for lack of things to say. It has been for lack of words to say them. I survived the holidays in one piece. I reveled in three weeks off of school that were much deserved after 32 straight weeks. And then January came and I started a new term with 3 classes (2 is considered full time). I'm half way through. It has been intense, but I'm surviving. But I'm writing like there is no tomorrow. Paper after paper after paper. I told Olly I feel like I'm simply out of words.

But my blog keeps calling me. It's as though it's saying, "You can write 1500 word papers, but you can't find the words to blog about your mom?". Well...yes...that's exactly how I feel. Because in all honesty, I don't know that I have any words that describe what grief is like 15 1/2 months after your mom dies. In some ways it seems like it has been so long. And then when I realize that it has only been 15 1/2 months, I realize the time has actually been quite short.

I have consciously avoided this blog. For some reason, I couldn't come here. It's odd because it was my safe haven while mom was sick and I was in the throes of grief. Now it seems sort of uncomfortable. As though I should be done coming here. As though at some point, I will just feel like there is an ending to this blog. And an ending to my grief. But I am understanding that such a time will never come. I will never stop grieving the loss of my mom. Certain things will continue to strike me at odd times and reduce me to tears without a moment's notice. I honor those times now. I don't like them. But I honor them for what they are.

The last three months have had their amazing moments, like the time my lamps came on in the middle of the night, followed by a day of the burnt out Christmas tree lights turning on randomly. Believe what you want, but I can't help but think my mom finally found my house. Whether it's true or not, I don't care. The lights were unexplainable. So was my sense that my mom was near. It was the closest I have felt to her since she died. I haven't felt it since. But it was magical at the time.

And then there is the birth of my first niece, Signa Bea, who was born on the morning of January 6th. And who looks an incredible amount like my mom. Michael and Kiersten originally were told that they were having another boy, but then half way through the pregnancy, they found out this baby was actually a girl. I can't help but wonder if mom had a hand in any of that. :-)

I just registered for my 3rd to last term towards my Bachelors degree. I know my mom would be proud of me. I just wish I could hear her tell me so. I am incredibly proud of myself and amazed that I find myself looking at Doctorate programs. Sometimes I wonder if I would have done all this if mom hadn't become sick. Would I have taken the risk? Would I have jumped in? Or did I need to do this before mom died so she knew I was going to be okay? I don't really have that answer. But I know that there isn't an ounce of me that has ever considered quitting because I am determined to power through this for mom (and for me).

So time moves on...and so does the journey of grief. And because the grief will never end...just constantly change...so will this blog I suppose. When I can find the words, I will be here. When the words don't come, I'll simply wait until they do.