The power and danger of empathy

 As an English teacher, I have always had an umbrella theme for the year. A theme I felt was an important skill all people should embrace. While I generally choose empathy I thought I would simplify it the last couple years to kindness, so it was more easily understood by my 8th graders. I think it was a mistake.

Young people understand empathy, they may not know the word, but they do understand it. I think it is crucial to teach them what they are feeling and what it is when they experience it. That is how we will create a more empathetic community and world. 

As I am preparing for a new school year at a new school in the midst of so much polarity in the world and hatred toward others I am physically in pain with empathy for so many. I grew up being told I was a peacekeeper, told that I cried without knowing why because I was sensitive to others pain, I was drawn to others who needed an empathetic friend. As I have experienced great loss within a short span of time, and several other life experiences that have taken me on journeys to help relate to others in pain a little better, I have found a large cause of my chronic cluster migraines. Recently I have had a pretty continual migraine, I can ease it with emergency meds, and ice packs, but it almost always returns shortly after those wear off. I notice the pain more as I scroll through social media posts sharing ill informed opinion pieces intended to divide our struggling communities even more.

As I struggle to face not only these world wide struggles, but my own families personal trials as well, I keep telling myself I survived my husband's sudden death and raised 4 kids on my own, why does this seem so hard? As I finally began to prepare for my next year classes and teaching, I found a great reminder of how I got through most trials- I wrote about it. 

I processed my grief, depression, struggles, victories, all by writing about them. Or even writing fiction to process thoughts and ideas. I decided to try writing what I was going through before focusing on my lesson planning to test my theory... see if my headaches eased, even a little. To my delight and astonishment it is. And the last couple weeks I have tried EVERYTHING! Having my husband massage it, ice packs, head packs, a variety of medication both OTC and prescribed, in the past I have even gotten a piercing believed to help and considered it on my other ear. The tension I felt start in my jaw and work it's way up to my head and down my spine is relaxing. Usually I have to really focus on relaxing it. 

This to me has been the danger of empathy- I hurt for all my friends, family, students, co-workers, and even strangers who are being prosecuted to speaking and sharing their beliefs on all sides of issues. I ache for the gullibility of people who are lazy and simply believe and share what they see that conveys their beliefs without fact checking. 

My anxiety has been torturing me as I see plans to open schools frequently change, protests for and against them, and the worry from both sides if we are doing this smartly. I have worried since the shut down about students who have confided in me about their home life, worried about students who rely heavily on the support of friends, worry about my introverted quiet students who need what little interaction school gave them. For these students we need to return. But I have also seen first hand the pain of grief in teens, to lose a friend, family member, or school staff they are close too would be just as traumatic. To protect these students I care so much for I can't do it effectively with the little safety precautions they are implementing. Nor can I utilize best teaching practices for engaging students. There is no right answer. I do not want to return online only, nor do I with everyone. I want a blended option that we can adjust one way or the other as needed. Again, as a peacemaker I want the closest way to make everyone happy.

But I love these kids I teach! I want to be with them again! I want to see the learning and reflecting of empathy that I build in our class. I have no doubt that if we were all more empathetic and listened to others so many of those with such polar opposite views would find some common ground. But we are all so unwilling to stop and listen because it often results in attacks. We start on the defensive before we just listen. So my goal for the year as I plan my class mostly online is to find opportunities to listen to my students. To show the value and power of empathy, and by doing so hopefully avoid the danger of holding it all in and share more with others. 

Numb... again

Last week was different. The world was told to stop what was normal, to social distance ourselves. For me it started Friday the 13th (odd coincidence), I went to the studio I teach at to prepare for a rehearsal scheduled. Before I left the governor ordered public schools to close for 2 weeks. I went to talk with my boss who is also a director of the company I choreograph for. They decided to follow the public schools and close for 2 weeks.

Oddly enough, I was relieved at first because I thought I could better prepare. But then the reality hit me with not teaching dance for the next 2 weeks. Dance is my happy place, what I am an expert at, where I thrive. Not having that to reground me for 2 weeks would not be good for my mental health. Sure I had the occasional much needed break from all work like in the summer, but even then I start to go stir crazy. But I also have plans for how to use that time in place in advance then. But now, no dance will also affect my income.

I got through the first few days fine because I was needed. I had to help train teachers to utilize online sources. I had to go to work, but that even changed. If we could work from home, we could work from home. I decided I would work better at school, and keep to myself in my classroom. I was doing ok.

Then we had our spring break, the school would be closed. I awoke with every intention of going to work on things I needed to get done. But as I left my bedroom, the reality of what working from home for our house meant hit me. Every room was already occupied by family members taking classes, preparing online lessons, working their work calls for scheduling. There was not many options left for me to work in. So I did what was most logical to me, I went back to bed.

This happened for the next 3 days. Wake up with good intentions, only to return to bed. For most of the day. Emerging only to binge tv shows by the season with my husband. (Good thing we decided early in our relationship to NOT have a tv in our room or I would still be there.)

Finally, today, a week and a half after my first class was canceled, I am doing something productive in these strange times we are living through. But this feeling of isolation wasn't new to me, in fact it is oddly familiar.

It was when I was asked how I am doing I realized why it was so familiar. Grief has been glaring me in the face since the beginning of this new world. You see on Sunday of last week I lost my dear friend to breast cancer. She was my friend who courageously spoke the words I could not at my husband's funeral. A talk I listen to on tough anniversaries. And she died on my mother's birthday, 12 years since my mom has been alive to celebrate with us.

When my husband died it felt like my world had ended, and I couldn't understand how everyone else was still going on as normal.

This week the comfortable world that we knew has ended, and yet we are still trying to carry on as normally as possible.

What is it in humans that despite turmoil, and upheaval of our norm, we have the determination, the perseverance, and the diligence to continue with our normal as closely as possible. As widows we frequently use the term our "new normal" to explain life after the loss of a spouse. So while we are adjusting our lives to fit this new normal, at the core we are finding ways to stay on the path of what is normal for us. School, work, diet, exercise, social media, all of these have changed, but as minimally as possible, and some to greater extents than others for reasons beyond our control.

In the days following my husbands death I would go through the motions of our normal routine. Take kids to school, pick kids up, make dinner, take kids to dance, pick kids up, etc. That is until something broke that normal, a phone call asking for him, a memory of him, or some other trigger and we would need to pause the struggle for normal to grieve.

Today, I got up, got dressed for work, checked in on kids doing homework, made breakfast, sat to work, then saw social media and paused to research news of this pandemic. Paused to grieve not seeing my students for much longer than previously planned. And then with a heavy heart trying to adjust to this new normal- with a happy face, adjusting lesson plans, and creating this new normal- hoping it doesn't last too long, or change things permanently.

It is that numb feeling I felt following my husband's death that I am feeling all over again. Not sure what to make of what is going on. Just doing what I am told I should. Hoping it is the right thing to be doing. Wishing I had more tears, emotions, words, anything besides that numb feeling. And hoping that the feeling returns along with the normal.

Changed

I've changed. I am a different person than I used to be. I understand everyone changes, but I have been changed by death, the grief from it, the loneliness from it, the strength from it, and the love from it.

I changed what was important to me. What I wanted to do, to become, to focus on. I changed what I did for fun and as a hobby. I miss that part of me, that creative me that would sew clothes or pillows for my kids, that would carefully scrapbook all their pictures. That would create decorations for the holidays to add to my house. I miss learning about myself through writing, and I struggle to find the time needed to focus on it again. But I also like what I have become, a teacher who plans and creates meaningful lessons, who tries to improve in her teaching regularly and who likes to share what she has learned with others.

I learned a great deal from my first marriage that I have tried to apply to my second. I try to communicate better, I try to manage my finances more cooperatively. I try to spend time with him and learn about things he enjoys. I try to do my share around the house, and not complain about what I wish would get done. I hope he knows how much I appreciate him.

This week as I try to focus on organizing my house and sorting through boxes that have managed to make the moves with us a few times, I am reminded of my past strengths and weaknesses. I am looking back and see parts of myself I had forgotten, and I realize how much I miss them. I see parts of myself I am embarrassed by, and am glad to have moved on from.

I realize I am not my perfect self, or anywhere near that. But a work in progress. I am glad at how far I have come, and see what I need to remember. I love that I am more spontaneous and try not to take everything too seriously. I wish I was more organized and had my shit together like I used to be. Maybe one day I will figure out how to balance both the old me and the new.

A year of weddings

Today marks what would have been my twenty-third anniversary to Kris. It is the first of my anniversaries since he has been gone that I am married to another man. The vast array of emotions I have felt this past year are in strong competition with those of the year we lost him. There has been sadness, joy, gratitude, guilt, and many more I am sure I am missing. On this day years ago I had my dream wedding to my dream man, albeit we were much younger than ideal. I can remember being so incredibly ecstatic, giddy with laughter, graciously thanking everyone for coming, being the social person I am. Looking back at pictures, they don't do the beauty of that day justice. It was a perfect day. The start of a far from perfect marriage, or so I thought. When we are young we have these ideals of a blissful never fighting marriage that continue after the happily ever after of the wedding. I am so grateful for all I learned in that less than perfect marriage. I am grateful I learned how to argue, how to defend my views, how to compromise with others, how to work for what we wanted. The part I regret most on this anniversary each year is that we were just getting good at marriage! We got through tough times, we learned how to communicate, we had made it past the tough part and we're getting to the happily ever after. I'm so grateful for the memories of celebrating our anniversary together. They were all unique, and important as we came together. I'm especially grateful for our last one where we just enjoyed being together.

Part of the emotions this year were deciding whether or not to marry Mike. There were money concerns, and some family concerns, but the biggest concern was my own. Becoming married again after being a widow. While it doesn't negate the fact that I lost Kris, it is different because my widow badge won't be so obvious. I'm actually grateful for this fact, you see when I was first widowed I didn't want that identity to define me. But then actually shedding that layer of myself to be less obvious was harder than I expected. But I can honestly say that day August second was just as perfect as my first wedding. My future in front of, and ready to embrace, more prepared than before. I am so grateful for my marriage to Kris for how it prepared me for my marriage to Mike. I feel like this time I have learned to better communicate, to express my desires before any disagreements, to be more forgiving and compassionate.

I got to watch my daughter walk down the aisle to be given away by a man who isn't her father by blood, but is in every other sense of the word. While I missed him so much that day, I am so blessed that a found a man willing to try to fill those big shoes. And on this day, my anniversary, I get to see one of my dear friends daughter marry her man. I love that we can share this date because Kris loved their family as well, and know he will be there, just like he was for Tayler. It is hard missing someone so much, and being so happy at the same time. And I am grateful for all these weddings to try to understand the contradicting emotions involved in this stage of grief.

Death Just Sucks

Growing up my mom always hated us using sucks to describe things. Even as a parent and teacher I have tried to encourage better wordage. But the truth is death sucks. It seriously sucks everything form you. It sucks your energy, your emotions, your desire, your life. It drains you until you are a shell of your previous self going through the motions that you are told to. This was me the first year or two of being widowed, and even to some extend the first year after losing my mom. You know you still have to function, somehow. You know there are still kids that you need to support, somehow. And by some miracle that shell you have become manages to not neglect your children, and they begin to turn out fairly well, despite the fact death sucked for them too and they were raised by the shell.

Recently life has been very good. My shell managed to break away, and this beautiful combination of the reflection of my old me, and this new stronger me has emerged. My kids are doing pretty well and becoming functioning adults, although the verdict is still out on what their contribution to society will be. I have moved in with this wonderful man who adores me and makes me feel so loved. And I love him. I love him so much in fact that all my big plans for going out and starting somewhere new have changed, to starting new with us. I love his kids, he loves mine, they get along really well, I feel really lucky.

Then two weeks ago we have faced the pending death of a loved one. WE were called to the hospital, not knowing if we were saying our good byes, or hoping to find out what was in store for his recovery. For the last two weeks we have been told he is very sick and it is a long process, we're talking weeks to months. As straight forward as it sounded, we still have felt unsure, its been a gentle roller coaster. Little bit of good news giving us hope, more bad news giving us a reality check, and so it has gone for two weeks. I have tried to be positive and hopeful, but already going through it with my mother and my husband the harsh reality that could happen has been at the back of my mind, never leaving.

This morning we got the news his nutrition is declining, and with or without a surgery his mortality is 90% likely. I ache knowing the love of my life is going through a loss again, and knowing what it feels like I hate not having the words to give adequate comfort at this time. I also feel very selfish, while not close, I have grown to genuinely love his family and the fact they have all been so welcoming of me. I am not ready to go through another loss, I don't want to see that pain in people I love, I don't want my kids to again experience another death. And yet I want to be there and be strong for Mike.

SO here is hoping I can draw on the strength I have gained through the experience my losses have taught me, and I can be there to help Mike and his family. I am hoping I can do this without giving into the dark feelings I have had when I have lost my loved ones. I am sad I will no longer be able to get to know Matt, and I am sad for his girls that will have to go through the loss of their dad. I am sad for my boyfriend and I who will be missing him at our wedding. Death sucks.

Complicated

This year for Superhero Sunday (Our version of Father's Day since Kris passed) we went to see the Pixar movie Inside Out. It was perfect! It visually interpreted the complex feeling Mike and I were trying to put into words earlier that day as we visited Kris's grave. That complex emotion that I am truly in love with two men. That feeling that I wish so dearly that Kris was still here holding me, but so grateful Mike was. So comforted that I had this wonderful man holding me up as a grieved for my late husband and father of my children. He tried to explain his thoughts to me, that he was so sad looking at the graves of my mom and my husband side by side knowing all the pain I had gone through, but so lucky to have found me and be able to support me as I am processing these losses daily.

Mike and I have been dating for well over a year. It was when I had given up on dating anyone seriously, too many dates that asked me to not talk about my husband and the fact he died because it makes them sad. Men who would quickly have us married before the second date. (example: Him: "so what are your plans after you finish school?" Me: "Honestly I think it would be fun to apply all across the country and see where it takes me, try something new!" Him: "But what if I want to marry you? You can't move then!" Me: "..." This was seriously a conversation on a first date.) I continued dating to force myself to have a social life. Then I met Mike. At first he was like all the others, an excuse to get out, a fun night, etc. But then I started turning down other offers for dates. I could feel myself light up when I would get a text from him, smiling with my whole body.

As great as this felt, I had a lot of guilt with it. Guilt I was betraying my husband. Guilt I was not able to fully commit to someone new. Guilt I was not going to be able to be as good of a mom if I was trying a new relationship. It was again another plethora of emotions I had to try to navigate, and I felt at three and a half years being a widow I was finally figuring out how to navigate this grief thing. But Mike has been patient with me, more than I could even hope for. He has put up with me leaving in the middle of a conversation to go yell at my husband's grave (it is how I cope sometimes). And when I return, just holds me, no expectations or explanations needed. He loves me kids. I have seen him hold my 13 year old when I returned from work, as he cried because he missed his dad. He knows he is not a replacement. He knows he is not my second choice. He is not even a widow, he is divorced and he still is so patient with the fact that Kris will always be a part of my life. He is my past, he is the father of my children, I am still part of his family.

We have talked about marriage. I am not ready for that. Kris still holds the title of my husband, and I am not ready to give that to someone else. I will always be his widow. It is tough because in every other way I am so ready to be with Mike. It is that emotional tie to the title of husband I am not ready to pass to another. I have moved my kids (the two that still live at home) and I with Mike and his kids (when they are with him). We are a new family, and special blended family. In our home it is important that my kids still see their father. WE have pictures of him among the pictures of us and our kids. We still have his flag on display, as well as the beautiful bronze mold of his hand. It is our (mike and I) home. But my kids need to know that I will not forget their father and the connection and love we had, and I still have for him. Mike's kids still get to see their mom regularly, so we don't need the evidence as prominent.

I have only explained the reason for us not getting married to a select few friends. Then a couple days ago I saw this post from a widow's blog that I follow. It has helped to see others get through this trial I did not ask for. I loved it and shared it. It helped put into words the thoughts I have on this. It clarified it to people that may not understand what I am going through.

Then today I read this post and followed it to the comments left by others. It has set a tone in me today of such self doubt as to my motives for moving in with Mike, and questioning the love I have for him and my husband. Something I previously had been so certain of. I know that the negative comments are fewer than those that are positive, but I hate the way they made me question what I thought I knew. Then when I was feeling the lowest I have in a long time, Mike texted me, "I love you, hottest with the mostest!" Why do I let these people who can't accept the fact that it is possible to completely love two people, despite the fact that one is physically gone. Why do those who are no longer with us need to be forgotten? I am proud of who I have become since the loss of my husband. It is someone who has grown and changed and become stronger than I thought possible. And at the same time I wish my husband was still here, could see how I have grown, could be here for his children. But he is not. And I am fortunate to have found someone that Loves me, and appreciates the love I still have for my husband. He is as happy as I am to begin a new chapter, book, life, what ever terminology you want to use, with me. Since life with me is also a new adventure for him. It is going to be complicated no matter how you look at it. Life is complicated.

Tired...

Wow, it has been a long time since I wrote what was going on in my life and in my head. So why the desire to write now? Well to be honest, my life has been pretty great this past year. I committed to a relationship with a wonderful man, who loves me and my children, and I love him and his children as well. There is no doubt in my mind that I would not be as close to graduating now as I am without his loving support and encouragement. In fact life overall is going so great, If I would just focus on getting my senior project done, I would be graduating in a week and a half. However this crappy thing called depression has decided to consume all my thoughts and energy. I just want to crawl into bed and sleep, I don't want to even attempt to start on any of the work I need to do. Then I was called in to teach because of an emergency, one that has really just messed up my thoughts even more. I also woke up to a dream about my deceased husband, which brings a flood of confusing emotions to my head. I am so tired of money and the fact that I can't cover everything I am supposed to as a parent. I feel like I am not there enough for my kids, and know they think that way as well. I think the thing that is bothering me the most is the awful thoughts that are flooding my brain, I think maybe I'll just get in an accident on my way to work and die, or maybe I can find out the right combination of medicine to take to forget to wake up, or other ways to just slip out of this life. But I know the hell that will cause for my loved ones, and the fact that overall my life is not going bad... I've just hit a tough patch I need to get through, even though I don't want to. How do I look at my loved ones when I feel this way? I have so much guilt about even thinking it. I think I need to be better at writing my thoughts, that always did help before, I just hate admitting how I am really feeling.