Big Feelings (1/14/21)

I’m having some big feelings. 

I’ve heard parents of toddlers talk a lot about big feelings at that age - when you feel something but are still too little to rationalize why you are feeling what you are feeling and too inexperienced to know that you are supposed to hide it. 

 

It’s been a few years since I was a toddler. I’m very good at rationalizing why I’m feeling what I’m feeling and am all too aware that I am supposed to keep these sorts of thing in check. 

 

But, since October 26th my feelings have been big. 

 

My dad called me at the office at 12:30 that Monday to let me know that my mom was not doing well. My mind-clouded plan was to stay put and wait for updates from him, until both a coworker and Dave explained that I absolutely needed to get on a plane and go. Dave booked a 2:00 flight and drove me to Dulles in record time. I landed in the Minneapolis Airport at 5:00 and immediately called dad to let him know that I had landed. My very calm and collected retired-pastor father listened to me explain that I was on my way to get the rental car and stated simply, but lovingly, “ Rose Ann passed away at 4:30.” 

 

“Rose Ann passed away at 4:30.” Since that day, that statement has danced around my mind constantly, always resulting in different big emotions. 

Sometimes it’s a surprise. 

Sometimes it’s a reminder. 

Sometimes it brings tears. 

Sometimes it brings memories that make me smile. 

Sometimes it brings fear that I will forget. 

Sometimes it inspires me to text a friend. 

Sometimes I actually giggle at how such a simple and straightforward statement can change everything. 

 

Mom’s death was expected. Her dementia had pretty fully taken over and I knew there was a strong chance my last visit with her had been my last visit with her, so I had had the chance to say what I needed to say. She had listened, and smiled, and asked me why I was crying so much. I’d say there was a 25% chance she knew I was her daughter and a 75% chance she thought I was a very nice (and strangely emotional) nurse. 

 

We are a religious family, and I truly believe I will see her again. There was huge comfort in that for her and there is huge comfort in that for me. This has never felt like the end. 

 

Losing people we love is a part of being alive. It’s an experience every single person has had or will have. There are books and movies and poems and songs all telling you how you may feel. 

 

Taking all of that into account, I think I thought by now I would be able to harness and sort out my thoughts. If I would just take the time to sit down in a quiet room and meditate, or buy a pretty journal and a new pen and write, or draw something, or look at old family pictures. Surely, with some time and concentration I can rationalize my big emotions and find meaning in losing this amazing and unconditionally loving presence in my life. Right? 

 

This morning, I texted with Dad about Minnesota weather and remembered that she wasn’t experiencing the winter slush. 

“Rose Ann passed away at 4:30.” 

At noon, I made a doctor appointment for March 12th (her birthday) and smiled. 

“Rose Ann passed away at 4:30.” 

 Around 3:15, the John Rutter version of “The Lord Bless You and Keep You” (a blessing and song she loved) came across my spotify playlist and I cried at my desk. 

“Rose Ann passed away at 4:30” 

 

Nope, not ready to rationalize yet. Let the big feelings come.