Sad and Serene

My sponsor tells me I'm grieving my relationship with my parents, that it will never be what I wanted as a child, a young adult, and now a middle-aged woman. I realized at a meeting yesterday that being sad, which is a feeling one gets from grief, is okay. That I can still be serene. In other words, serenity doesn't mean happiness - jumping up and down with joy. It means contentment and acceptance. This really helped me to realize that it's okay to feel sad. It's part of my process in recovery. Plus, just realizing this lifted my spirits since I stopped beating myself up over being sad. It is what it is, and today is a better day.

Sometimes It's Okay Not to Feel

When I heard that my mother was in the hospital with serious side effects from taking too much of her narcotic pain medicine, it crossed my mind that she could die. She is, after all, almost 80 and has been in bad health for years. When her possible death did not bother me, I was a bit bothered by my lack of emotion. I simply thought, "Should she die, I would go to her funeral." Period.

Then I read in Hope for Today (March 19th) that we have sometimes already grieved the loss of someone long before they are actually gone. We have already shed our tears and gone through the appropriate stages of grief, which I believe are denial, anger, bargaining, sadness, and acceptance. After years of trying to fix a relationship that was not to be, I realized I was already at the last stage of acceptance, thus the lack of feelings (or at least intense feelings).

I was more into thinking about Dad and how he would do as Mom's death would affect his life dramatically. This still didn't prompt in me the need to be by his side, for it would mean travel when that was the last thing I needed right now. My first obligation is always to myself, to take good care of me. Plus I have a sister right there should Dad/Mom need someone. And I have other family members close by me that I need to help in the coming month.

Fortunately, Mom recovered and is now home with a new regimen, and Dad is relieved. If I had gone into my prior mode of drama resulting in rescue, rather than calmly accepting what is and what could happen - without getting into all the what-ifs - I would have wasted energy that I do not currently have to deal with Mom/Dad, again. I've spent time on those relationships, even travelling to Europe once to rescue them. As such, I've made my amends. I've done what I can do and that is enough.

This may sound cold to some of my readers, but I assure you that it is simply the result of years of grieving over what I never had and never will have with my parents - healthy, functioning, nurturing relationships. Both my sponsor and a professional (who included my mother in my therapy for a time) told me that some people simply do not change. I had to move on to take care of myself and look to other relationships for my needs - first and foremost the one with my Greater Power.

With that comes love and forgiveness of myself as well as the same for others. Forgiveness, by the way, does not mean we forget. It means we let go of the resentments. And love isn't always a feeling, it is more a willingness to respect another's humanity - flaws and all - realizing that they, too, are children of God. I also rely on the God of my understanding to let me know when and if I should step up to the plate, and this time it was obvious that I belonged on the bench - simply watching the game and praying for those involved in the action.

Good Grief

I've been reading the Al-Anon book "Opening Our Hearts, Transforming Our Losses" to help myself get through the grief of losing a loved one. A lot of the content has to do with loss around the disease of alcoholism, so it doesn't always pertain to my situation. I lost my 103-year old grandma, who was probably one of the healthiest and most spiritual people in my life. However, my immense reaction to her death did have to do with the effect that alcoholism has had on my life. It felt like I lost the only person who has ever loved me unconditionally, plus the person who represented my Greater Power for that very reason. So my grief has been deep and that is okay - my feelings are okay. The following quote from the book is so true:

"Today I know that grief is the price I pay for having loved and having been loved well." pg. 107

And I was able to make amends to my grandma by spending quite a bit of time with her the last couple of years. I would granny-sit so my aunt who lived next door could go on vacation. I was able to give her time the way she was able to give me time when I was a child. When I was so involved with my husband's active drinking, I had no time for most of my relatives and friends. I lost many relationships, but grandma was always there for me when I decided to drop in for a few hours and then later, for a few days. Like my Greater Power, she did not judge or complain, she just loved me. I am so grateful she lived long enough for me to really understand that.