There is a weird thing I’m feeling that is reminding me of a couple of years ago, when the Morsel was still in our care. The Morsel was a medical baby, and there came a day when we had officially graduated out of feeding therapy. No more tubes. No more pumps. No more thickeners, even. Just, food and drink, good to go. And with that WIN came an odd sadness, because I had really grown to love the people in those departments. And while I was thrilled that the Morsel was safe to consume any and all necessary nutrients from actual food and actual drink, without any altering, I was very sad to not see those people anymore. We had great rapport, and had been through things together. I’m sure I’m not the only person who gets that.
Brady is free. Finally. He no longer needs doctors or surgeons or specialists of any kind. No more oncology or cancer treatments. No more home care. No more rehab. No more medications or supplies, even. And that is AMAZING, because we know EXACTLY where he is and there is great peace surrounding that.
But, I will admit. I miss some of those people.
I don’t miss Brady needing so much care to barely maintain any quality of life. I hated how he had to suffer, and I can truly say I am HAPPY for him to finally be free and seeing Jesus.
I don’t miss the scheduling conflicts or the constant search for childcare.
But I do wonder how our favorite home care nurses are doing. Or if his community OT ever tried to watch Stranger Things. I always loved running into Dana at the cancer centre, and making that one guy from his pod feel super uncomfortable with my dark humour. I liked when Bradys oncologist would tell us stories about things his kids did. The warmth from the therapists at City Hospital was unmatched, as were the laughs shared while picking up medical supplies at UROmed.
And now, I have no reason to go to those places anymore. Which is GREAT, but brings its own weird griefy feelings. Sometimes writing it out helps, so here I am, doing exactly that.
We all have different things going on in our lives. No one’s grief is the same, and lots of it won’t even be similar. But there are little offshoot grief things that not everyone sees.
Yes. I lost my husband. And my kids lost their dad. And that is a HARD time. That carries SO much grief. But there are constant reminders that just bulk that grief up day after day and make things harder. And today, I’m feeling the loss of those relationships.
Conveniently, the group of people in our corner is still gigantic, and I hope you all KNOW we do NOT take that for granted. I am in no way saying we are without support or friends or help. In so many ways, we have EVERYTHING we need plus so much more!! It is just another odd part of all the change we’re experiencing. The norm is no longer normal. Though, really, what was the norm? We haven’t had one in years. Maybe it just feels bad to start trying to find one. I’m not sure.
*sigh*
Grief be griefin’.