Sunday, 10:30 am
It’s a beautiful sunny morning but I can’t seem to make myself get out of bed. Propped up by my pillows, I can gaze into my backyard and see the bright blue sky. I watch the birds flying between the feeders and the chipmunks and squirrels scurrying around gobbling up the fallen seeds strewn over the ground. I see them and I appreciate all the activity as I observe the buds finally showing themselves on the trees. 
Springtime is finally arriving and soon everything will be lush and colorful and vibrant. But at this particular moment I’m not feeling a part of any of it.
Why am I so lethargic and unmotivated? My belly signals that I need to eat something but the mere thought of getting up and doing anything at all just makes me more tired. Where is my energy? I have been lying here all morning, alternately dozing and trying to read, looking out the window, checking the news, anything to avoid getting up.
For the last several weeks I have been totally immersed in preparing for my husband’s Appreciation Event that will be held in a week. It’s one of those tasks that no one can really help me with. Besides planning for how the afternoon will unfold, ordering food, gearing up for the arrival of family, I have also been gathering and organizing all the pictures, documents, and artifacts that I want to have available for people to enjoy. Jay has been with me constantly throughout this reviewing and organizing. He looks at me from the photographs. He speaks to me from the letters he wrote to me years ago. I hear his voice as I read his unfinished novel. I feel him laughing with me as I remember our adventures represented in the photos, letters and video clips. 
And I relive those precious moments caught on tape when he rocked and sang to our newborn son as only a doting father can.
The event is going to be beautiful (at least, that’s the plan!). I’m looking forward to sharing the parts of Jay I loved the most with the friends and relatives who will be there. And I’m looking forward to those who knew him differently than I did sharing the Jay they knew with me. I’ve been working really hard to make sure that it is an event that will be special, and honor his memory and life in a way that highlights what we appreciated the most while he was here and will miss the most now that he’s gone.
But all this time spent poring over everything and burying myself in my memories day after day has come at a cost. It has caused me to grieve more intensely and frequently than I might have otherwise over the same period of time. Overall, I believe that letting my emotions surface, and even encouraging myself to express them openly, is a healthy way to mourn my loss. While my pain is deeply felt, and lurks just beneath the surface of my days, this process called mourning is teaching me how to acknowledge and honor the grief when it hits me, and at the same time continue to function and move forward in life.
Today, though, my feelings are open and raw, and I am emotionally tired. Tired of having to settle for only memories. Tired of only holding his clothes close to me instead of holding him close. Tired of sleeping without him next to me. Tired of not having him to talk to at the beginning or end of my day. Tired of making decisions without talking things over with him first. Tired of not having his humor nearby to brighten my spirit. And on and on and on… just tired of my status quo.
So I didn’t get out of bed all morning despite the beautiful spring day.
Sunday, same day, 11:00 a.m.
A person very important in my life called me. She didn’t know what kind of morning I had been having. In fact, she called because she assumed I was having the exact opposite kind of morning. My son is home for the weekend and she thought we would be going out for breakfast or a walk in the park, or something else fun. Didn’t matter what because she knew that my son and I were together and she just wanted to join our party from afar.
What she didn’t know was that Conrad had spent the night elsewhere, visiting a friend, and wasn’t back yet. So there I was, mopey and sad, a counterweight to her infectious cheerfulness.
I had to get out of bed to answer the phone, and when I saw who it was I immediately began to brighten up. She had no idea when she called how much I needed to hear her voice, but she realized right away the funk I was in and kicked into high gear as only the best people in the world can do.
She listened as I told her how my morning had been going. She waited when my voice broke and I had to stop talking, and gently pointed out that what I was feeling was totally normal in light of my grief and the upcoming event. We cried, then laughed, together as we moved beyond my troubles and talked about recent family adventures and other topics.
She gave me not only validation but also perspective, and by the end of the call I was finally able to move my day out of the bed and into the land of the still living. I am definitely feeling the pressure of the upcoming event and all my emotions that will be bubbling up between now and then (and beyond), but after talking to her I felt better equipped to face everything.
Simple Kindnesses Sometimes Mean the Most
When we are facing hardships I believe it is healthy to take an emotional and physical break from the world from time to time. I think that’s what happened to me. While there are many different ways to take a break from your life, lying around moping in bed was apparently my way on that particular day. But sometimes all it takes is a simple kindness from a special someone to lift us up and help us bounce back.
I’m not trying to say that a phone call to someone who might be suffering is always the right thing to do, or that it will always work. What I am trying to say is that there are simple ways to reach out to those you care about and who may be having a hard day to let them know you are there for them. How you do that and the best communication method will depend on your particular relationship, and your own approach to reaching out.
And don’t take it personally if your effort to check in isn’t received in the way you expected or wanted. Remember, the act of reaching out is not about you, but rather the person you care about. Sometimes timing is everything, and just knowing that you made the effort to be in touch is often enough to have the desired effect, whether you are there to witness that effect or not.