Vanilla Flavored Grief

This is Where I Leave You is a movie that no one seems to know about yet has simply everyone in it.  I watched it years ago and it became one of my comfort movies.  It has some dark humor and that's my shield while getting Through It.  I  think it was marketed as a comedy and it kind of is, but it's not.  In the same way that they marketed The Family Stone but you're left ugly crying at the end (spoiler alert)

It changed - or I did - over the years of watching it.  I had to take a break from it for a little while, because it centers on a parent death and sitting Shiva.  It captures the emotions of the moment and the little moments that happen while going through this. It captures relationships and how they change as well.  

I like the quote of  "You never can touch the same river twice; because it's not the same river and you're not the same man"  This is a good example.  I watched the movie prior to everyone dying so my perspective went from an observer to a participant.  

So far, mostly, what everyone on the interwebs says about grief has been true.  The one big piece that is regularly left out is the exhaustion.  After all is said and done and the body/mind comes out of fight or flight mode, it can finally rest.  Once it happens, it's almost overwhelming.

But you have to remember HOW to rest.  How to lay on the couch and watch television.  How to go to sleep without checking off your to-do list for the next day.  How to have actual free time on your hands.  How to have an issue and not immediately have to plan.  How to think of a task or project AND be able to follow through with it; instead of adding it to a "Deal with it Later" list.

There is a gap now.  Where making phone calls, completing paperwork, monitoring health status, advocating and visiting used to exist is now a giant gap.  Not only the sudden free time but the free space in your brain. 

And life has moved on while you're busy trying to exist in that world.  I related it to going away to college then returning home years later.  Everything is the same, yet different.  Friendships have changed or faded, situations have changed.  YOU have changed.

Then there's just the regular vanilla-flavored grief.  Songs that make you want to lay on the floor, photos you don't want to look at, sudden memories popping up in your mind. (and your social media)  

I am considering changing grocery stores because it makes me sad/weepy every time I walk in. Because it's the store the in-laws went to where I would often see them.  Also, there's flowers outside the store and it makes me remember the flowers they would give whenever I helped them or my birthday or anniversary.  I can't count how many times I've tried not to cry walking through those doors.

Or today, we had to leave early to go pick up my car from the shop.  We left in the dark and it immediately triggered all the times that we had to go to the hospital or phone the ambulance in the middle of the night.  I felt that panic start to seep through.  Then because the universe thinks it's funny, an ambulance got onto the freeway in front of us along the way.  Just to add to the ambience. 

My point is that it's not just the holidays and the birthdays and deathdays.  It's the small, unexpected things.

It's not all bleak, some of the grief fog has lifted. Six months have passed since my father-in-law's death.  I have to make an appt to close his bank account next week and that's the last thing officially.  We're still waiting to hear about the frivolous lawsuit decision. It's going to be fine but it's still so frustrating.  All of that will finish just prior to his birthday, then the holidays. 

Perfect timing.