If life went according to plan, I would be in Key West, FL this weekend: playing in the waves; eating fresh seafood; drinking too many sugary drinks with little umbrellas sticking out of red maraschino cherries. That sort of thing. Hurricane Isaac kept us home.
It is disorienting to have long-made plans simply change in an instant. It is also a bit scary. I don’t need a professional to point out that I keep myself busy so that I don’t have time to ponder. It is the pondering that leads to long nights on the verge of tears as I simply experience the grief that I am carrying around.
This summer, I finished two courses for my masters degree and taught summer school. I spent one weekend in Phoenix, another in Dallas, a couple with my grieving Dad in Chicago, and a few days in Atlantic City. I was busy. Although there are only 5 days between turning in my final school paper and starting back to work as a substitute teacher, I had NO INTEREST in keeping those days free; to be given these days without time to create a plan leaves me vulnerable.
Unscheduled free time is a very sharp double-edged sword. It is rich in opportunity – I get that. Perhaps I will make banana bread. There will be no excuse to avoid exercise. I have even finished a book. But free time brings up the ghosts. Even the dreams are different when I am not mega-busy: the depth of my grief haunts me if my mind is not distracted, and I end up pulling myself out of traumatic dreams full of grief and regret.
Free time is also a vital indicator. Am I well? Can I handle it? For a girl like me – a girl who likes to ace tests – it is painful to know that this is a test I am barely passing. I do not understand. I agonize over the loss of my daughter. I miss my mother.
Only one more day. It will be great to head back to work on Tuesday.
