I’m considering this post my personal emotional check-in/answer to the
question I posed at the end of my previous post.
Back in April I was feeling “overwhelmed” (if I had to choose
just one word) when I wrote this post. Everything
was “too much, too fast”. I’ve been through
hard times before and I’d like to think that I’m more patient than the average
person, but lately rather than feeling overwhelmed I’ve found myself feeling annoyed
and irritable. I hate the uncertainty in
the world and I’m sick of feeling “trapped” inside. And then, of course, I immediately feel
guilty for feeling that way because suffering is relative and there are those
who actually are in a trapped situation- kids in abusive or neglectful homes
who could benefit from the safety net of public schools opening, women in
domestic violence situations who can’t as easily get away from their
perpetrator, or the children and families still in detention centers or living
in cages. A cage has got to be the
epitome of being trapped.
My heart is usually drawn, first and foremost, to children
and youth who are suffering. I have admittedly never
been interested in working with the elderly- as needful a population as they
are. However, I must admit that I’ve
become much more aware of the mental and physical trauma that the senior citizes around
the world are currently facing- not to mention financial concerns. If anyone has a right to complain about lack
of connection, feeling trapped, or facing the realistic possibility of death
from COVID-19 it’s the elderly.
I have two elderly parents right now in their late 80s who, fortunately, are
still able to be very much connected to and supported by their children, grandchildren, and
great grandchildren. Although my parents have
some risk factors in addition to their age, their health is currently stable. My in-laws, however, who are roughly the same age as my parents, have faced some unique
challenges over the past year including having to sell their home of decades and
moving into an Assisted Living Center where they could both have access to 24
hour care since their children were not realistically able to provide that to
them. [That’s the condensed version of the story anyway- omitting numerous falls, an emergency brain surgery, children taking turns to care for them in their home, and a convalescent period at a rehabiliation center before one of them was able to transition to Assisted Living].
My in-laws have adjusted well to their new living
situation, but they are both currently struggling with feeling “trapped” as
their facility has been on lockdown the past several months. As upscale and nice as their particular facility
is, I overheard my mother-in-law liken the helpless feeling she had of not
being able to have visitors in her suite or not being able to leave the
facility except for medical appointments and other necessities as being in prison.
Last month I was having a conversation with my mother-in-law
(we can visit with them outside their windows or through glass if we want to go
in person) and it became evident to me that in addition to the new stress and uncertainty
she is facing surrounding COVID restrictions and precautions, she is also still
grieving her former independence and home. Speaking of her home she said, “I don’t believe I’ve ever shed more
tears over having to say goodbye to my home than I even have over a living
person who has died.” I hadn’t quite
understood the enormity of her grief and loss until I heard her say that. Because the circumstances leading up to selling
her home and moving into an Assisted Living Center were due to an unexpected event
and her transition happened within months without much time to process everything, it fell into the category/definition
of trauma being “too much, too fast.”
When I heard my mother-in-law express her grief I also
thought of the thousands of children in foster care who- at a moment’s notice-
are moved from their homes without time to say goodbye, are given a garbage bag
to collect their essentials, and are placed into a stranger’s home in cases
where they can’t be placed with relatives.
“Too much, too fast” certainly applies to refugee families who are
willing to leave their homeland under dangerous circumstances without much except
the clothes on their backs in order to escape poverty, violence, exploitation or
government oppression.
On a personal level of experiencing “too much, too fast”,
since I wrote an update four months ago, a couple of significant things have
happened in my life. These aren’t necessarily
bad/traumatic things, but they have required much effort and encompass a lot of
CHANGE:
- - I
finished up my Masters Degree in Social Work!
Which means, among other things, that I will have more time to read and
write just for fun than for a graded assignment or research.
- -I had
a virtual job interview and I will be starting a new position in the Fall doing
what I did at my last internship- providing therapy to children and adolescents-
most of whom are in the foster care system or have been adopted.
-Our
family moved into a bigger home. We’ve
been looking for homes for three or four years now so although our move wasn’t necessarily
unexpected or due to financial hardship or job loss, we certainly didn’t envision
that our next move would coincide with a pandemic!
- Because
we now have more space, we are in a position to house elderly parents, if
needed, or to host another foster child or two.
(The prospect of housing not just one but two elderly parents certainly influenced
our decision to start the school year out virtually rather than in
person). Although I still feel like we’re
getting settled into our house, I am also aware that other populations-
including the elderly, children in foster care, or refugees- are at particular risk
for going through “too much, too fast” without needed supports in place. I don’t know for certain who exactly will be
joining our household over the next year or two, but I’m a firm believer that if
you have more than you need, then you share.
