In Process: Grief - There are still many days...

Momma died on October 16, 2015.
Dad died on January 9, 2016.
I was told I was losing my job on June 15, 2016.

There are still many days, even now, that its just enough for me to get out of bed....and take a shower.

Real. Talk.

In Process: Grief - Overwhelmed

When I was a kid, I had an experience riding home from my Aunt & Uncle's house. It was an odd sensation, considering I was just a kid, but I remember it like it was yesterday. And from time to time it reoccurs. One of those times was this morning.

That night, decades ago, I remember riding home after an evening with my extended family. The car windows were open. I could smell the fragrance of the fresh cut alfalfa. Tall corn stalks were rushing by the headlights on the side of the road as we headed toward home. 

I had this sensation of feeling OVERWHELMED, like I had bitten off more than I could chew...it was as if my mouth was expanding to try and accommodate what I had bitten, but there was absolutely no way possible to make it fit. I looked out my window and I became even more overwhelmed. It was the oddest situation I had ever faced in my young life. And I had no idea what brought it on.

This morning, as I was sitting on my balcony drinking coffee, that same feeling came over me. 

There was a jet flying over, and I looked up when all of a sudden out of the blue, this overwhelming wave swallowed me whole. No matter where I looked or what I thought about, I was trapped. My mouth filled with this perception of biting off more than I could chew and my world seemed humongous and smothering all at the same time. 

I had no control over it. Its not even that I CHOSE to "bite off more than I could chew." It was forced on me. I didn't ASK for the events of the last 20 months. I didn't ASK for Momma to die. I didn't ASK for Dad to stop taking his medicines and give up on life. I didn't ASK to get let go from my job. I didn't ASK to keep receiving rejection letter after rejection letter from positions which I had have applied to, for which I was qualified (and even OVER qualified). 

I am not looking for a pity party. I simply want to be honest about where I am in this process of grief. I have been listening to Dr. Brené Brown recently, speaking about vulnerability. And for so long I've believed vulnerability to be a weakness. But Dr. Brown changed my mind. She helped me to see it as my greatest strength. And here's why....

Giving voice to what is going on inside my head and my heart....I believe THAT'S half the battle. And to all of you who are (or have) experiencing grief or loss of any kind, it is OKAY to feel everything you're feeling and thinking. It is OKAY to share about it all. Find someone or a group of friends who will listen and embrace you. Find a therapy group. Find a counselor. Find an outlet, like blogging. Or art. Or fitness. Or construction. Or whatever outlet fits you. Just don't hold it in. Be vulnerable. Be you. Be free to speak your truth, completely. We love you. I love you. 💜

In Process: Grief - My Misconceptions About Hospice

After nearly 20 months since Momma died, I am grappling with the idea that I am STILL grieving, and I have no idea how long this process will take. I am assured by those around me that its ok not to know; to take one day, one step, one breath at a time. Inhale. Exhale. 

Speaking with a colleague last week, I shared that I had no idea what I was in and what I was feeling; as if the numbness, to a certain extent, has carried itself through all of these months. I never imagined that was even possible. I truly had no idea what to expect about many things, although, I had some preconceived ideas about one thing in particular that turned out not what I imagined and I am just now realizing the effects it had on me.

When Momma was given the final prognosis that there was nothing more for the doctors to do, and hospice was her choice, to spend her final days in the comfort of her own home, I expected there to be round-the-clock care by trained nursing staff. This was my understanding of hospice care. Boy was I wrong! 

http://www.hospicenet.org/html/faq.html

Hospice nurses (via our local hospice service) visit 2-3 times a week for a few hours at a time. The medical nurse visits two times a week and the bathing nurse visits once a week (as needed/requested by the family.) Then a chaplain will visit every couple of weeks, or as requested by the family. Families have the option to request volunteers to come relieve them to sit with the patient for a few hours at a time to give the family a break, but that's it. All of the other times, the family members are in charge of the care of the patient. Neither Dad nor I had any medical background, so it was like walking in the dark. In the beginning, Momma was physically unable to stand up on her own, use the bathroom, shower, take meds, etc. so most, if not all of her daily tasks were completed by Dad and I (and and my brother when he was in town, and my Aunt when she could come over after work)....lifting Momma was another story. She was literally dead weight. I wanted to cry, and I know she did too. She actually did a few times. I felt so bad for her. 

By the middle of the first week home, she began to improve greatly and was up on her own and walking around the house, and even able to cook some things. She felt so good to be independent again! She was so happy! But by the weekend, she was declining and she never recovered. There were things I had to do, like give her morphine and other comfort meds as she continued to decline.  Two nights in a row we had scares when we had to call the emergency on-call nurse in the middle of the night to come out. Her heart rate and breathing were inconsistent, and Dad and I just couldn't handle things on our own.

At night I couldn't sleep because I would be listening for any sounds she'd make. 

When she died late Friday night, October 16, 2015, and we turned off her oxygen concentrator in the house, the silence was deafening. The hospice nurse came immediately and helped put together all of the details of her death, her medications, funeral home choice, etc. They were very helpful in that way. They were very much a resource during those 2 weeks while she was home before she died, but Dad and I, my brother and my Aunt did much of the care. Most definitely not what I had imagined, although I am very much grateful for their presence throughout that time. I cannot imagine trying to do all of that on our own. It was not what I was ready for, at all. On top of trying to process the impending death of my Momma, I had to engage my mind and body in her daily care while watching her die....and it was overwhelming. Traumatic even.

I didn't sleep much those following two weeks in my parent's house before I traveled back to Charlotte. And even when I returned to Charlotte, I still didn't sleep well, even though I was exhausted. My full being was still very much in shock. And even now, 20 months later, I am realizing the TRAUMA of it all. As if peeling away layers of an onion. 

Its important to me for people to understand & be prepared for what is involved when families choose hospice care for their loved ones, and have proper support throughout the entire process. And then be gentle with themselves through healing and grieving.

Bless You 💜

In the Cave: My Life This Past Year

My Momma used to call my times of being quiet and withdrawn, 'cave mode.'

There was no dark, damp place I would venture off to (not even in my mind, as some people might do,) but simply a retreat from the normal interactions of daily life. The going out to the grocery store or taking walks on the greenway; or even talking on the phone with her, which we did on a daily and/or weekly basis. Just silence. And that bothered her, but she said she understood and loved me through it. That's what Moms do.

I've been in 'cave mode' since November 2015. Let me explain.

Momma and I have always been close, even during my 'rebellious' times...which were short-lived because by the time they rolled around I was an adult, but still had some steam to blow off. Plus, I'd been raised well enough that I knew better. So from age 21 to 22, I had a 'funky attitude' and I told my parents to 'deal with it' when I wanted my own way. I said WHAAAT?! Back in the day I would have been whooped. But as a young woman in my early twenties, I was being disrespectful, and I knew it. It bruised Momma's heart, but I apologized after I'd learned my lesson, and we healed together and got on with life when I realized what was really important. 

Momma had a health crisis in 2005 and was sick for 10 years. Loads of issues, but mainly her lungs. She was on oxygen 24/7. Thirty-three years of smoking inflicted tremendous damage on one of her body's most vital assets. Hospital visits too many to count added SkyMiles to my Delta account, but I wouldn't have been anywhere else. At the end of September last year, her pulmonologist gave us the news. There was nothing more they could do for her. Her lungs were too weak, and he was sending her home on hospice. So I immediately booked a one-way flight & hopped on a plane. No idea how much time she had, but I wasn't going to miss any of it. Of course, its my Momma. 

I've been rolling all of these thoughts around in my head for the past 12 months. Allowing myself to marinate on them, giving my heart permission to grieve wide open, feeling the hot tears roll down my face, my body convulse with sob after sob. Hospice. Just THAT thought, all by itself.

And this was just the beginning....there's so much more to the story. 

I arrived the same day I booked my flight. Momma was still in the hospital. It was Friday, October 2, 2015. Dad and I had talked via phone during the day and he PROMISED me that he'd wait to tell Momma her prognosis until my brother and I had arrived to the hospital. When I arrived, I learned he had broken that promise and told her on his own. The anger burned in me (Dad and I had other issues as well, so this only added to the building inferno.) My only focus was Momma. 

I stayed at the hospital with Momma both nights before she was released on Sunday afternoon to go home. She was somber, but tempered with hope because she was receiving info from various people who said other patients had been released from Hospice and lived long, happy lives. So we remained as positive and faithFILLED as we could under the circumstances. Momma was just glad to be home. 

We had no idea that just 13 days later she would enter into the arms of Jesus. 

I was grateful for those 13 days. The first 9 were extremely difficult (beyond anything I'd ever seen or experienced) but Momma was slowly improving, getting stronger. . 

She was up and around and visiting with everyone. 

My brother was home, so we enjoyed family dinners, just the 4 of us, which was the first time since possibly high school.

I soaked up Momma-Daughter talks on the couch. With no knowledge of time, I poured out my love to her and my thankfulness for always having her in my corner (even when she didn't always agree with my decisions,) and for growing up with a Momma who exuded love and kindness (and expected it equally from me.) I apologized to her, again, for the many times I was a brat. I asked forgiveness for hurting her heart and fracturing our relationship. Even as she drifted into the cloistered silence of her own mind, I sat stroking her hand, her arm, her cheek ministering love and comfort to her just as she did so many times when I was a child. It was all such a surreal time. It almost felt as if I was having an out of body experience.

Having been her primary caregiver, my senses were on high alert those final days. I would have moments of emotion, however I knew I had to keep it together for Momma. There were responsibilities needing my full attention. Even through planning her services, I pushed my emotions down...The focus was Momma, not me. I told myself that my time to grieve in the Cave would come later. 

Random thought....

Where do you do your best thinking? Mine is in the shower. I desperately try to record in my mind those nuggets of wisdom, action plans and searches of the soul but I'm not always successful. Today however, was different.

I asked myself....Why do you go into 'cave mode?' 

One would have thought I had asked myself that question or had an understanding long ago, but I never gave it much credence. It was simply part of who I was. I realized today that I go into 'cave mode' when I'm overwhelmed, mentally, emotionally, physically, probably even spiritually. When I'm feeling vulnerable, I descend into the Cave. When I'm sad or lonely, into the Cave I go. When I've had a great deal of activity or responsibility on my plate, I retreat into the Cave. Its a place of safety, peace and quiet. There's no need to justify or explain within the Cave. No questions. No judgement. I can be authentically me in the Cave. . 

I am silent in the Cave, for the most part. I make little to no effort to reach out to anyone, even family. THAT unnerved Momma. Often. Having said that, I savored calls, texts or emails from friends or family members reaching out to check on me. I was desperate for space yet my soul cried out for connection. It was the strangest dichotomy. 

Growing up, the Cave was not my permanent residence, although it was a vacation home. My current stint is the longest I've ever occupied the Cave. It began in November 2015 when I returned to Charlotte after Momma passed. I am uncertain as to when I'll finally emerge.

Just as I was beginning to process Momma being gone, and dealing with the strain of a relationship with my Dad, I received a call early on a Saturday morning on January 9, 2016. Dad was found outside his RV in the park where he was staying in Florida. He'd had a massive heart attack. He was gone. To say that I was stunned was an understatement. 

I spent the next few days talking with Sheriff's deputies, County Coroners and the funeral home. Once again, I took the lead on arrangements and administrating details....because that's just what I do. Defense mechanism? Maybe. It helped keep me occupied so I didn't go crazy. And that was a plus. 

I've officially now hit FULL TILT but I cannot hide away in the Cave because my family needs me, at least at the moment. Thankfully our funeral home (they've become quite familiar with us, unfortunately) took care of everything and eased my mind, so we did not have to worry about anything until the memorial in April. 

I took the lead on my Dad's estate although my brother and Uncle are also executors, which is a tremendous help. Gratefully, I can accomplish many tasks from inside the Cave. 

In June I was fortunate to take a much needed vacation (first adult vacay EVER! Yes. Seriously.) to rest and find some healing for my spirit...in a beautiful paradise resort in Antigua. 

Upon my return to the States, I was greeted with a call from 2 members of the board of directors where I was employed stating that I was being let go due to 'budget cuts.' 

WELCOME HOME!!

Well then. Hello Cave. The safety of the world in which I live is in question right now. I've lost both my parents. My job. My childhood home is about to be sold. So I'm going to just cloister myself for awhile. 

My life's foundation has been essentially ripped out from under me. Tomorrow is one year since Momma has been gone from my world. And yet, it still feels like it was yesterday. I can sit in a silent room, staring out the window. I zone out on television all day. Or simply stay in bed. Energy or motivation was no where to be found in me.

This book arrived in my mail, anonymously. It has been such a resource for me. A comfort, really. It has helped me understand everything that I've been thinking and feeling these past months. I read a bit and then need to put the book down as it can be heavy to process. Emotional. I have cried through it. Its good. Honestly. 

My parent's house was sold in November 2016. The son of the former VP of Student Development at my alma mater, Bethel College bought my childhood home. Although I'm sad, I'm also at peace knowing the young man who purchased Momma & Dad's house will take care of it and make it a home. I know his parents, his Uncle & Aunt and his Grandparents. (His Uncle was my pastor from elementary through adulthood.) I'm grateful for how it all worked out. Relieved that the sale of the house is complete. My house is now filled with items from their house....I want to be surrounded by them, forever. 

I generally stay in "the Cave" on a daily basis unless I absolutely HAVE to go out, whether to a meeting or the grocery store. I've restarted my job search, so re-entering the real world as a career professional is in my near future unless I find a remote position that allows me to work from home (JACKPOT!)

Life is, slowly, getting back to normal. Being without my Momma and my Dad, NOT normal. But life goes on, and I still hold on to their memory each and every day I take a breath.

White Privilege and the 2015 Charlotte Mayor's Race

Did you see it?

It was hard to miss if you were paying attention. I believe white privilege is a major factor in the 2015 Charlotte Mayoral race. If you're in tune to matters of racial inequality and trying to find ways to eradicate it within our community, I trust you understand what I'm talking about. Read on. 

White privilege is a set of advantages and/or immunities that white people benefit from on a daily basis beyond those common to all others.White privilege can exist without white people's conscious knowledge of its presence and it helps to maintain the racial hierarchy in this country.May 10, 2003

White privilege - Mount Holyoke College

https://www.mtholyoke.edu/org/wsar/intro.htm

White privilege was served up to the black community on a silver platter during the 2015 Charlotte Mayoral Primary. I have no doubt it will continue. It was truly heartbreaking to witness such a willingness to receive every word. It was stunning, actually. It seemed as if the black community was in a fog or a trance, or a pied piper was playing. In a city where African-Americans make up 64 percent of the vote, the 2 white candidates carried many of the city's black precincts. Basically flipped them from 2013. Read on. You'll understand why I'm so stunned. 

They did so by getting a free pass, IMO, despite misrepresenting themselves and even lying to the citizens of Charlotte. Harsh, but true. Let me explain. 

In the past 18 months, we've been in a hypersensitive season in Charlotte politics, where ETHICS and ACCOUNTABILITY have been central to leadership. The City Council's Code of Ethics was revised in response to the former Mayor's (a BLACK man) unethical choices, which led to federal corruption charges & a prison sentence. Granted, the current mayoral candidates' behavior is nowhere near as severe as our former mayor's, HOWEVER, our leaders must be above reproach and carry themselves with the highest degree of character & integrity, ESPECIALLY when we're just emerging from one of the darkest times in Charlotte politics.  Being THE ONE appointed to the seat vacated due to corruption & ethics, one would think that a candidate for Mayor would thoughtfully consider their actions in every way, even in the smallest way. 

However, this was not the case, and we have a candidate (a WHITE man)

who said he would NOT run, (the media & his colleagues can bear witness to this agreement,) and yet he profusely denies he ever said any such thing. And he is now engrossed in the primary runoff. And no one is really saying anything about it or holding him accountable. Free pass.

As Deray McKesson says, "Watch whiteness work." 

The same can be said of the other candidate (a WHITE woman) in the mayoral runoff. She has consistently misrepresented herself and any authority she would have as mayor. She made promises in the black community (and the entire city for that matter) on which she has very little (and in some cases, NO) ability to follow through because the Mayor's office has limited power. But many voters don't know. Her campaign continues to run a false ad on TV; she has been called out about it as false. She has even corrected herself about it in public. But she still runs it. I read one local journalist say she knew how to 'exploit' the African American demographic. That she did. Free pass. 

Watch whiteness work. 

I'm watching this all play out with my own eyes, and I can't believe it. But at the same time, I can. I'm not hating on white people. I am white people. I am simply calling for accountability in our leaders. Like my Dad always said, "I call 'em like I see 'em." I'm sure neither are necessarily bad people. They know how whiteness works. 

The one LEGIT candidate in the race (a BLACK man), who ran clean, governed with clean hands, has done the work for his constituents and the city consistently with grit, humility & professionalism, has the experience, and can show you the results of his 10 years of work on the council, came in dead last. Why? Because there was a fear stoked: 'what if having another BLACK man in the mayor's office brings more corruption?' 

When the former mayor was arrested, WHO stepped in and held the city together, kept city services operating, spoke to the international media, and calmed everyone's fear about what was happening in our city? The LEGIT One. Who has continued moving the city forward consistently, bringing jobs and development, with integrity, great character and grace under incredible circumstances? The LEGIT One. 

In 2013, the LEGIT One carried 126 of the 166 total precincts. 

But now, he is done. 

Fear is a MF. 

Watch whiteness work.

*All views are my own.

The Best Laid Plans...Often Go Awry

So, we're coming around the bend of September. Hard to believe, really. 

The last nine months have basically been a blur. I've been running a local mayoral campaign. Before that I had been managing that same municipal leader's digital media, and before that I had helped run his 2013 city council campaign, so this was basically a continuation. On Red Bull. 

Suffice it to say,  I've been busy.  For the past two and a half years.  This is the first weekend that I've had absolutely nothing to do. And when I mean nothing, I mean zippo, zilch, zero.  Its been wonderful and weird all at the same time. Been there before? I found myself getting a bit bored. 

Early in the week I was the most exhausted that I have ever been in my entire life. I thought I'd be sleeping all weekend long. Didn't happen. So much for the best laid plans. Guess that means I'm caught up on my sleep? Let's hope so. 

Although my body may feel as if its caught up on sleep, my heart feels as if its grieving. Ever been there? Where the body and the mind contradict each other. 

A friend told me the other day to allow myself to grieve.  Grieve, you ask? Yes.  I put my heart and soul into the campaigns for Mr. Barnes. Believed in him without a shadow of a doubt. He loves the Lord. He lives his life and conducts himself with the highest degree of integrity, and seeks to leave a city that will benefit not only his family but every family in the city.  I knew he had a future as a public servant. 

I have great passion for politics & government, but no tolerance for the nasty sort of 'politics' that we normally see; the partisan people out for their own agenda, or those people who pander for votes, saying things just to sound acceptable to every group they encounter; but leaders who use their power for good and not evil. 

Mr. Barnes is different. There's no partisan bone in his body. He and I shared the same opinion about politics. It was the greatest work of my life. Had no doubts. Whatsoever. So, I took this one pretty hard. He's a good guy. And a great leader.

I am 'grieving' because Mr. Barnes lost the election. Rather unexpectedly. Stunned is probably the best word to describe how our team felt. None of us even fathomed this outcome. 

There was no Plan B.

We knew we had the strongest candidate in the race, with the greatest qualifications. Trusted.Genuine. Focused. Forward-thinking. 

Determined to bring opportunity to the entire city, because he had proven his ability as a district representative and an at-large council member. Quantifiable results. Didn't mean a thing, apparently. Or, it did, and fear was stronger. I believe there is a deeper meaning to the results. I may not understand them now. Maybe I'm not supposed to. God's got it all under control. And its ok to grieve. Because it was a valuable experience and it left an indelible mark on my life.

So here we are. 

We may see stoplights. But, "blue skies, smilin' at me, nothin' but blue skies do I see....Blue days, all of them gone,  Nothin' but blue skies from now on."

Thank god for Jazz

I don't know about you, but I work best when listening to music. But not just ANY music. For me, it's jazz.  I can spend all day listening to #jazz as I work. Specifically, today it was the Clifford Brown station on Pandora. Clifford Brown, Lee Morgan...some of the absolute greats who were under-appreciated, in my opinion. And of course, Clifford left us too soon at the age of 25, so we'll never know what he could have attained. But man, that swing and rhythm can get me through the day. Add in Kenny Dorham, Dexter Gordon, Grant Green, Coleman Hawkins, (one of my faves) Jackie McLean, Monk, Sonny Rollins...and my love, Trane....and my day is pretty daggum perfect, and PRODUCTIVE. Thank god for JAZZ. #realjazz