Last month a coworker said “you should write a blog about what you thought this job would be and what it is.” I hesitated for a moment before realizing she didn’t know that I actually write a blog – although not specifically about what I thought my job would be and what is – but more so as a way for me to stay connected to Josh’s memory through my growth in grief and grace. I laughed and said I would think about it, but her prompt made me pause to reflect on what all I have learned as well as to consider how much more I have yet to learn. This year has brought a number of new moments and situations that although schooled in, I had never experienced. Similar to my first year of grief, my emotions felt raw and very little was comfortable. However, unlike grief, this new unknown was a challenge I had requested and as a result, I have tried to keep my focus on the same promise I made to myself about processing grief to live in William Borden’s words of no reserves, no retreats, no regrets.”
I have been working to no longer think of the “what I thought would bes” in contrast to the “what ares,” but more simply that they are a part of me and my story. Clearly this confidence that grief and growth can be one in the same is still something I am working to develop. During our final staff luncheon, I shared how much I appreciate each member of our staff and their commitment to make each moment – even the most challenging – count. I passed out print offs of Marge Piercy’s “To Be Of Use” and celebrated how as a collective whole we were able to make this year successful. I became tearful as I reflected on the impact both my mom’s life and my mom’s passing had on the way I try to view the chances we given to impact others for the positive.
The poem reminds me of the resilient work ethic and outlook on challenges my mom committed herself to. Even when things were hard, Mom harnessed herself to finding a better way forward. After the meeting, I caught myself second guessing what I had shared realizing I was being vulnerable with staff which was something I had actively worked to limit during the year. Brene Brown’s research on shame and courage bounced back and forth in my head as I tried to determine if I was being appropriately vulnerable or if it was my fear of looking weak that was driving my insecurity. The need to have clear boundaries between myself and my work has been one of the elements that has felt necessary to build armor around myself for the position in which I need to serve my school but also so challenging as in each interaction I must respond vs react. At one point after a hard moment, a teacher reminded me that “it is ok, you get to be human, too.” I didn’t have the heart to explain that I understood but it was the human part that makes it hurt.
This spring Josh would have turned thirteen. His birthday is a day we intentionally filled with love and joyful things, yet it is a day where the “what I thought would have been” and the “what is” feel a little more jarring. In May, Emma and I ran the 5K for the Run for Heaven’s Sake. It was strange to not host the Joshua Tyree Half Marathon but like most things this year, although it felt a little different, it was time for a change. As Emma read the names of the baby loss families at the finish line, she pointed as she read a name she knew and ran to her brother’s sign. Her innocence, love and kindness continue to inspire me.
This weekend Courtney and I will celebrate Father’s Day and our anniversary on the same day. Looking through my 2018 post Baby Steps from a similarly emotional weekend provides a benchmark for how we (and Emma) have grown over the years. When we said “I do” in 2007, we never could have imagined the journey we would begin together. During our final days with Josh, we promised each other and our handsome little man that we would take care of each of each other. Courtney and my love for one another is even more strong and resilient than when we said our vows seventeen years ago.
A mentor likened a first year as an administrator to your first year of marriage. I agree the analogy fits. I know our marriage takes both of us giving everything we have and it is filled with both joy and hardships, yet it is through all the moments that we make memories. I look at the father Courtney was to Josh and is to Emma and my heart is happy. They are a dynamic duo and our adventures together are only just beginning.
Graceful Grief 