The Stages of Grief

I have a close friend who once told me, it is not the times you expect to be sad, birthdays, anniversaries, or holidays that are so bad. You can be prepared for the sense of loss and change. It is the times that suprise you or sneak up on you that are the hardest when you are suffering from loss.

My friend and others all have ways to grieve. We are all different and prcoess things in our own unique way. I will admit, today, I think I realized I have been to busy to process my own grief at the changes to come in my life.

This is not to say I am sad about moving or resent the change in my life. In many ways I am excited. I am REALLY looking forward to seeing my husband more often. Right now though, I have to many things to get done to worry about it. As I have stated before, currently each step I take toward moving leads to several more. All my work involves phone calls, FAXes, and email of confirmation.(and usually the sacrifice of my first born child)

I am reminded of when my father was a conference minister.( a man in charge of ministers and congregation relations for 104 churches) He would always have "many oranges" in the air. This referred to churches under his care who are facing a variety of challenges with their ministers. A phone call would come, my dad would have to go out. He would say, "Sorry, an orange dropped, gotta go."

So is my life at the moment, I am waiting for the first orange to fall. I try to take small bites and attack what I need to do. Today I attempted to enroll my children in camp. Jack had provided me with a listing of camps from the local paper. The girls had expressed an interest in a "Performing Arts Camp". I found some options and took to the phone.

I was fortunate to find one that both girls could attend. It was all day and was close to our new home. All is going great, I can even enroll online. I get started and give our information. Name, address, (which address should I use?), ok, I move on, health information (ugh,make note to call doctor and get shot record before we move, IN 3 WEEKS). All goes along smoothly until - EMERGENCY CONTACT.

In all capital letters, it sits, who do you want to the camp to contact if you or your husband is unavailable?. I pause, the curser blinks, mocking me, and I feel the tears coming. I HAVE NO EMERGENCY CONTACT! I will not know a sole in Tennesse who I could ask to do such a thing. I begin to cry some more, and call the camp for help.

I explain, while not crying, that I am moving from Delaware and do not know who to put for an EMERGENCY CONTACT. They say, not to worry, put someone in from where I am now and update it later. LATER, I think, I am going to make an EMERGENCY CONTACT friend in the span of 3 - 4 weeks!

I give up and put a good friend from Delaware. Thinking, what do they care, I could put Charles Manson and make up an address and they may not notice. This does not inspire my confidence. To spite this, I submit our application.

I WILL make friends. I also know enough that making friends takes time. I can't unpack them when I arrive or expect them to be lined up at the door to meet me. I will admit, I picture in my mind a line at my door. They could whisper to each other, I hear that Ingrid Ziegler moved in today, she is the coolest person, great cook, funny, excellent writer, and soooo kind.

Oh well, I guess at least in reality, an orange dropped, I got to taste the grief I feel in my heart and the sense of loss. It will keep coming and I will keep dealing with it. All I can say is, thank goodness for texting, email, and maybe Skype. Then I can at least grieve, along with all the rest of my EMERGENCY CONTACTS.