Standing on the High Dive (and I hate heights)

My mom died two weeks ago today, on Halloween.  I am wearing Halloween socks today that my kids picked out in the Target Dollar section for her to wear while she was in the hospital.  They refer to them as M'ma's candy corn socks.

Today I am grabbing a few minutes alone at Atlanta Bread Company to process the last few weeks. Because tomorrow I have my first counseling appointment since her death, actually first one since the week before Mackey was born (2 1/2 years ago).  Then my counselor moved and I haven't taken the time to find a new one and begin the process again.

Here's the thing: I am a believer in preventative counseling.  We get physical exams (or are supposed to- confession time I don't) yearly and we don't think people are weird for that.   So, why the stigma for mentally "checking up."  Personally I would prefer to go to counseling preventatively than to wait til a crisis happens, whether in my life or my marriage.

I was born in North Carolina, live now in South Carolina and lived for two years in New York City.  In small towns I feel as if counseling has a negative stigma.  Like if you go to counseling, then you must be weak or if you and your spouse go to marriage counseling, there must be some SERIOUSLY crazy bad stuff happening.  When we were moving to NYC my friend Amira said something that resonated with me: "Where we're from (the south) people look at you weird if you go to counseling...here in the city they look at you weird if you don't go to therapy."  People talk about their therapist as easily as they talk about their hairdresser there.  I love that.

So, I am standing on the high dive with that feeling in my tummy of utter sickness and nervousness. But I'm up there.  I have been grieving as best as I know how right now.  Well, actually I don't feel like I'm even grieving.  My mom's death happened so quickly that it still feels surreal.  I still can't believe it happened.  Everyday I wake up and wonder, 'when is this going to begin to sink in?'  I know it probably never will totally "sink in," whatever that even means.  But I wonder when will the numbness will begin to subside and I when will I begin to "feel" it.

So, earlier this week I figured instead of wondering this, why not find a Christian counselor and get some tracks to run on: some applicable things to do in order to grieve and celebrate well.  So, I called my mom's former counselor (who I met while my mom was in the hospital) and am seeing her tomorrow.  I want to learn to celebrate my mom well but also grieve the loss of her not being with me too.

A friend let me borrow Shauna Niequist book "Bittersweet" yesterday.  I have already been challenged and find myself wanting to say "yes, yes" just as I read the prologue.

 Bittersweet is the practice of believing that we really do need both the bitter and the sweet, and that a life of nothing but sweetness rots both your teeth and your soul.  Bitter is what makes us strong, what forces us to push through, what helps us earn the lines on our faces and the calluses on our hands.  Sweet is nice enough, but bittersweet is beautiful, nuanced, full of depth and complexity.  Bittersweet is courageous, gutsy, earthy (11).  

But when you've faced some kind of death-- the loss of someone you loved dearly, the failure of a dream, the fracture of a relationship-- that's when you start understanding the central metaphor.  When your life is easy, a lot of the really crucial parts of the Christian doctrine and life are nice theories, but you don't really need them.  When, however, death of any kind is staring you in the face, all of a sudden rebirth and new life are very, very important to you (12).

              

That's just the first two pages!  Yikes...so so so good.  I look forward to sharing more from this book as I digest it.  So, after I've lept reluctantly off the high dive, I'll let you know how my glide into the water is.  After all I'm going preventatively, to learn how to jump in from this height.  My other option is to, months from now, do a completely painful bellyflop.  I know their will be pain involved in the jump now but hoping to meet it head on and not get knocked out or feel paralyzed from it.  Thanks for praying for my family during this journey of my mom's sickness and death.  God has been and will continue to be gracious as we walk through this day by day.

 *Excerpts taken from Bittersweet by Shauna Niequest