The Hamster Wheel
When death comes close to you, your life shifts dramatically. There are no plans or bills, or events that take precedence; death trumps it all. No matter what the circumstances are surrounding the death, notifications and arrangements have to be made. In addition to suddenly having to manage grief, choose a casket and the right suit, everything and everyone around you goes into a tailspin.
After the funeral and the affairs are settled, you’re just left with grief. The unexpected memories, or sounds, or a smell that evoke tears and overwhelming sadness never fill the hole. The hours you spend sitting in your car crying because once you enter, you’re “on.” People offer sincere sympathy and condolences because they want you to hurry up and be un-sad again and be your normal self. All you really want to do is be left alone to cry or be angry or to do nothing. And simultaneously you want to absorb all of the condolences and sympathy and the questions about whether or not you’re okay because the hamster wheel keeps spinning. While your world as you knew it has come to a screeching halt, everything and everyone stays on the wheel, keeping it moving. How can they keep going like that when you’re stuck in the spokes?
The past two weekends I attempted to read and. respond to a pile of emails, and fill out the “thank you” cards which are still sitting on my desk. There is also an entire wardrobe of clothing that need a new owner and furniture that no longer have a home. You have to wrap up the life in boxes or bags and the security calls security because you didn’t follow the exact protocol. “Sir, I haven’t done this before, the protocol is not written, and I just can’t be here; my daddy lived here and it’s too hard!” I need a little grace; thank you.
My progress towards moving forward is slow to minuscule. I want to but I don’t want to! There is still work, and chores, oil changes, grocery shopping, and wind that blows your trash cans down the street. Why don’t they respect my mourning? There are meetings, and workshops, and seminars that you cant rewind if you miss them. Some of them are relevant to the life you need after the grief. Some of them feed your cause, your purpose, your calling; you need them, yet, you can’t. The hamster wheel keeps turning and it won’t stop or slow down while you get back on.
The urgency to get back to your regular life feels urgent. When is enough time enough time? Why is your loved one now the main character of all of your dreams? Sometimes they are multiple characters in various roles and when you wake, your insomnia rears it’s ugly head and you’re crying into your pillow because you can’t fall. asleep again to be with them in your dream.
As you lay in the dark wishing for the sleep that alludes you until ten minutes before your necessary rising, the sun is in full bloom and you think to yourself today’s the day that you will get back to it, that you get back on the hamster wheel.
