ups and downs
This past week was a bit of up and down, emotionally. I often experience what I call a post-scan crash. My body is wound so tightly while I wait for news and when it is good news, I do feel a strong wave of relief and I feel myself unclench a bit. But after those feelings pass, I get hit with some anger and sadness because good news can only last so long and there is always another scan, blood test, treatment looming large on the horizon.
On top of adjusting back to life after scans, my dad’s oldest brother, my Uncle Fred, passed away this past week. He was the last of my dad’s siblings to pass away and there was a bit of a “end of an era” sense to the news. He and my dad were similar in a lot of ways, most notably in that they shared a pretty wicked dry sense of humor. The news seemed to reopen the wound of losing my dad, a wound that time had somewhat healed.
I debated whether to attend the funeral services. Growing up Catholic means I have been to an awful lot of wakes. I vividly remember my very first one, I think I was around 10 years old. It was in Brooklyn, for my great aunt Helen, my paternal grandfather’s sister. I remember walking in and my eyes being drawn immediately to the open casket. I had never seen a dead person out in the open like that. I stuck close to my parents, until it was time for them to go up to the casket and pay their respects. That felt a bit terrifying to me so I retreated to the last row of chairs and sat next to my Aunt Marie, Uncle Fred’s wife. She put her arm around me and told me not to worry, it’s not like Aunt Helen was going to sit up in the coffin and say hello. I remember my eyes widening as that thought had not crossed my mind and replying, something along the lines of, “Well, that’s good to know.” Pretty sure I also inherited the Hess dry sense of humor
.
I got more comfortable going to wakes as I got older and it became an important way to pay respect to someone I cared about or to show up for a friend or family member grieving a loss. My dad’s wake was painful for obvious reasons but the fact that so many people came provided my family with a lot of comfort. I wanted to do that for the members of my family grieving their loss this past week. I had attended a wake and funeral this past December for a good friend’s mother, not long after I was out of the hospital. And with my own health feeling so vulnerable and uncertain at the time, and my friend’s pain so palpable, it proved to be a pretty difficult experience that made me swear off attending funerals for awhile. Sometimes, death feels too pronounced in my thoughts for me to give it any more air. I made the decision not to attend and while I’m sorry to have missed it, I feel fortunate to know that people understand. We usually are the harshest critics of our behavior. We get so wrapped up in what we think of what we do, or what we don’t do, we don’t even realize how harshly we are judging ourselves. Or at least that’s often my style. One of my Peloton instructors (I know, don’t judge the source, she’s onto something) says we should talk to ourselves like we talk to our closest friends. We show each other a lot more kindness than we show ourselves. Maybe I’m not the only one who needs to be reminded of that today.
In the meantime, the sun is shining, the temperature is finally on the rise, and I’m going to take a walk. That is one way I will be kind to myself today.


I'm sorry to hear about your uncle. If he was like your dad he was a wonderful guy!
So sorry for your loss and the wounds it reopened. I think your Pilates instructor is very wise. Glad you are going to enjoy the timid spring. <3