I want to thank all the support and love, the good memories of Shea people have shared. Positive comments, and 186 likes.
What I take away from this loss-is perspective that while we all suffer some kind of struggle, and each of us has our own pain, the seeming popularity of “chronic pain,” while many suffer from physical and mental issues-you don’t have one without the other, and when I was having increased problems with RSD/CRPS around the same time that Kathy and her family lost Shea, I realized quickly that whatever it was that I was dealing with-and the number of times that when researching my own health issues, repeatedly seeing the McGill Pain Index to help providers understand the severity of the chronic pain (neurogenic pain), and how it compares to other issues so at least they know where to begin treating this, there is always someone who is worse off, but what I felt and have continued to? Is that the grieving process belongs at the top, above any other form of chronic pain.
I also know parenting never stops. Age 9, 19, 29, or 37. You may lose you child to a variety of things: serious illness, having to hand them over to another for a better life, or to death. Faith, presence of it, it helps weather the storm. Like in Shea’s poem, one I think I read at the exact time I needed to.
And Praise God! I believe He guides all things. Perhaps not choices of others when they’ve been lead astray.
He is there to celebrate climbing the hills and carry us through valleys.
I’ve had a long road: trauma, abuse, betrayal by people I trusted. Learning to trust I believe is a leap of Faith. God is easier.
He is present in what we do. For me, I ask: what would God want, and though I see fewer do it, nothing says I’ve to be one of them. Helping one because for any reason: God would want it.
The gift from Shea’s life and yes, her passing was an honest look at my own. From Kat, I was given Truth. From Shea, understanding that God gives me one body and that taking the best possible care of it is more important than ever. And to remember to have some compassion for myself, and for others when people find it easy to blame someone for their own struggles.
When I was working as a medic, we’d find someone with emphysema having a cigarette, while attached to oxygen, dying of emphysema, COPD, lung cancer, or chronic bronchitis-it’s easy to be critical and sometimes the best thing instead of berating the person, I simply would take the cigarette, and immediately put the thing out, in water, and gently remind the patient that they can’t smoke in a hospital or around oxygen. Maybe a few minutes later, state that in an hospital, it risks blowing up a city block, but with a very light note of humor.
There’s no need to increase their suffering-people are paying for any past, present, and future mistakes with either their health and/or their lives-that’s enough of a price for that one.
The price with mental health disorders is one of fear, and when people are in fear, they say things that that can be hurtful-the fear of what we do not understand can also lead in some cases, to condemnation, hurtful treatment.
I had the rest. It was time, healing, and a lot of searching. With friends who are family to me.