Tag: love

Grief, Hope, Mental Health

A Mother’s Heart: Reflections on Grief and Hope

Beth Leverence

A couple of years ago, I felt a sensation I had not felt for some time. The only way to describe it is a guttural cry welling up in the pit of my stomach. It was such a deep and sorrowful feeling, and it rose through my throat and out of my mouth as a wailing cry. That’s the only way I can describe it. Have you ever felt this way?

Sometimes we have no choice but to suppress something so ugly-sounding, because we don’t want anyone around us to hear it. At other times, we either have the luxury of releasing our sorrow or simply don’t care who hears or sees it.

This deep sorrow overcame me after I spent hours on the phone trying to reschedule my flight to my dad’s memorial service after a snowstorm that day caused it to be cancelled.  When it was clear I wasn’t going to get to the service, I was overcome with this deep sorrow and released this guttural wailing cry. It was such a sorrowful sound that it frightened my husband. He’d never heard me cry like that before.

Yesterday afternoon, I watched my grandson play soccer. It was beautiful outside, and it should have been a pleasant experience for me. My grandson was playing against an elementary school our three older children had attended, and my husband and I kept running into people we knew but hadn’t seen for several years. Sorrow started to overcome me when my husband started talking with one of our oldest son’s classmates.

“Hi, Mr. Leverence. Do you remember me?”

“Oh, of course, Casey. It’s so good to see you. You were in Aaron’s class, weren’t you? Do you have children playing soccer?”

“Yes. I have a fifth-grade son and an eighth-grade son playing, and I have a daughter in high school.”

The guttural cry started to build in the pit of my stomach.

“Wow! That’s so cool.”

As we walked away, Casey made one more passing remark that caused my sorrow to build a little deeper and stronger.

“It was nice to see you, Mr. Leverence. Please say “hi” to Aaron for me.”

You see, Aaron, our oldest son, lives in a CBRF, Community-Based Residential Facility, at a neuro-rehab hospital. He is very physically and mentally disabled. When Casey knew him, he was far healthier. There was no reason at that point in Aaron’s life to doubt that he would marry someday and have a family like Casey. After all, Aaron was a very intellectually gifted teenager. He was on track for a normal adolescent life and a promising future.

Unfortunately, Aaron developed a very difficult-to-treat case of schizophrenia when he was 15. In the past 26 years since then, he’s heard voices telling him to jump out of windows, over balconies, and in front of cars. These actions have contributed to severe physical disability in addition to being severely mentally disabled.

When Aaron’s having a good day, he’ll tell me, “Mom, I really want to get married.” He’ll even tell me who he wants to marry. He’s been infatuated with one girl he knew when he was in high school, and he’s convinced she’s still available for him to marry. He so desperately longs for the kind of life Casey has. My response to Aaron is always, “When the time is right for you to get married, God will bless you with a wonderful woman to marry.” Though I know that I’m being less than truthful to Aaron. He will never marry. His physical and mental conditions are too extreme for any woman to consider marrying him.

Seeing Casey and hearing about his family brought me such deep sadness that I couldn’t wait to get away from that environment. I didn’t have the luxury of releasing that guttural wailing cry on the sidelines of my grandson’s soccer game.

Grief can overcome almost anyone, regardless of age or the magnitude of the loss. A child might be overcome by grief simply by losing their favorite blankie, hindering their ability to go to sleep at night; adults are overcome by grief for any number of reasons, such as divorce, the passing of a loved one, and persistent lack of work.

According to Psychology Today, “Grief is the acute pain that accompanies loss. Because it is a reflection of what we love, it can feel all-encompassing.” Grief is not a single emotion, but rather a complex mixture of different emotions that come and go, with sadness being one of the most prevalent. Grief should not be ignored. While living our lives to the best of our ability and following our normal routine may help us manage our grief for some time, it likely won’t be enough. Journaling, therapy, seeking spiritual guidance, and spending time with friends can help us move through our grief.

To temper the deep sadness I felt about missing my dad’s memorial service, I reminded myself that while I was missing the opportunity to mourn alongside my mother, siblings, and extended family, it didn’t take anything away from the fact that my dad was no longer feeling any pain, but rather he was resting peacefully in his Savior’s loving arms. I knew this deep sadness would soon pass.

To temper the deep sadness I feel when I’m faced with the fact that my dear Aaron won’t get married and have a family, I remind myself that our earthly existence is just a temporary state. This is not Aaron’s permanent home. Like all of us, he’ll only be here for a short time. After he’s sprinkled enough gospel seeds to his neighbors and staff in the CBRF or other institution he’s living in, God will call him to his true home, heaven. Aaron has what matters most. He has what matters more than the earthly blessing of marriage and a family. He has faith in his Savior, Jesus. He believes that Jesus lived, died, and rose from the dead for him, and that saving faith ensures he’ll be in heaven. That’s really all that matters, and for that I’m more than grateful!

I may never be free from the different emotions of sadness, regret, and pain that make up my grief over the trajectory Aaron’s life took when he developed schizophrenia, but I have learned how to manage it and live life doing my best to focus on what matters most.

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/basics/grief

Mental Health

Facing Regret: Finding Peace and Healing

Beth Leverence

Regret. I so desperately wish I could let go of it! I carry it around with me from day to day and from year to year. It sits silently in the back of my mind most of the time. Unfortunately, it occasionally comes out to torment me.

When my three adult children left the house, there were only three of us remaining—my husband, my 6-year-old son, and me. The five-bedroom house was just too big! We were tired of doing yard work and bearing the responsibility of home ownership, so we decided to sell and move to a condo. We had a moving sale to downsize our belongings., and then we sold our over 3,000 square foot house and purchased a 1,600 square foot condo. It was located near an elementary school for our son, and it had a swimming pool overlooking Lake Michigan where we could spend time during the summer months. We loved it!

That was about 14 years ago. If I let myself go there, I start stewing with regret over selling that house. My daughter and son-in-law decided to sell their home a few years after we moved, and due to the volatile housing market, they had a difficult time finding a new one. They ended up having to live in an apartment for a couple of years. Our granddaughter’s health suffered due to mold in one of the apartments where they lived. The stress of building a house, something they didn’t really want to do, was hard on the entire family. If only we hadn’t sold our house! They could have lived in two of the three empty bedrooms. I also ruminate on whether it was the best home for my six-year-old son. So much regret!

All my children have some degree of mental health issues. Gratefully, for three of my four children, the issues are minor. My oldest son, Aaron, has a difficult-to-treat case of schizophrenia. He began to get sick when he was fifteen years old. It has been challenging over the past 26 years balancing the care for Aaron and the rest of our children. I sometimes reflect on how my husband and I managed our son’s illness. We tried so hard to give him the best quality of life possible, despite his illness. Did we spend too much time trying to help Aaron at the expense of our other children? If we had relinquished Aaron’s care to the professionals, would our other children have fewer emotional issues? Would they be less anxious and more emotionally stable? If I let myself go there, I start stewing with regret over not giving my healthy children more attention.

The thing is, I couldn’t have known when we sold our house that my daughter and her family would need a temporary place to live. I can’t say today if anything my husband and I did to care for Aaron negatively impacted our other children. I don’t have a time machine that enables me to go back to the past for a do-over. Even if I could travel back in time and make different decisions, I couldn’t possibly know the outcome of those decisions. When I’m thinking clearly, I know that harboring regret is unhealthy for me. In these situations, it isn’t very reasonable. After all, my life and the lives of my children might be BETTER because of the decisions we made about the house and our son’s care. There is no way to know!

An incessant focus on regret also prevents us from seeing the blessings that flow into our lives because of the decisions we’ve made. When we set aside the feelings of regret and frustration with the circumstances we’re facing, we can see the emotional and spiritual growth we’re experiencing. There is both good and bad in all circumstances.

While at times regret can result in positive outcomes, it is often unhealthy. In her article,  The Psychology of Regret, Dr. Melanie Greenberg demonstrates this:

For young people in particular, regret, although painful to experience, can be a helpful emotion. The pain of regret can result in refocusing and taking corrective action or pursuing a new path. However, the less opportunity one has to change the situation, the more likely it is that regret can turn into rumination and trigger chronic stress that damages mind and body.

While it is challenging, we must stop blaming ourselves for the decisions we made in the past and forgive ourselves when the outcomes appear to have undesirable consequences. Inability to accept our circumstances and appreciate the outcomes of our decisions can be harmful to our mental health. One thing that has been helpful for me is meditation. It helps me to be mindful and to focus on the present. When I can be more present, I’m less likely to stew on regret. I am hopeful that, over time, my regrets will either be stored permanently in the back of my mind or fade away entirely. It is essential to let go of regret to maintain a healthy mind and body.

Empathy, Mental Health

Kindness First: A Lesson from Personal Struggles

Beth Leverence

There’s some debate about a quote that is particularly meaningful. Was it spoken by Plato or Socrates? Could it have originated with Philo? Or did Ian MacLaren first articulate it in the 1897 Christmas edition of The British Weekly? Regardless, my favorite version of this quote does not come from any of these individuals but rather from Robin Williams:

“Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind. Always.”

This quote is worth sharing. Somebody can even post it on their cubicle wall at work or place it under a magnet on their refrigerator. It’s that meaningful.

This quote is a good reminder to be gracious toward all people. I should not judge others, especially people I don’t know very well. However, I have also been judged by others. I’ll share one of those times with you. I assume you have a relatable personal experience as well.

It was January 2006. I was driving my 21-year-old son, Aaron, to the nursing home where he was living at the time. Aaron has a very hard-to-treat case of schizophrenia. The nursing home was a safe place for him to stay while my husband and I were at work. Because Aaron became agitated, I pulled over to the shoulder of the highway to try to calm him down. Unfortunately, he got out of the car and stepped into traffic, where he was hit by a car. As a result, he had many broken bones, one being his femur bone. During his surgery to repair his broken femur, the fat globules from his bone entered his bloodstream. They lodged in the small blood vessels of his brain, causing many strokes. As a result, he had severe brain damage. He went into a coma and was fighting for his life.

This ordeal was very traumatic for my family and me. We had three other children at home, including a 1-year-old. My husband and I alternated spending evenings at the hospital with Aaron. The other evenings were spent at home with our other children. We strongly felt that it was essential to live as normally as possible for the sake of our family. Therefore, my husband and I resumed our full-time work schedules after a week from work. It wasn’t easy for either one of us. When we weren’t at work, we were either parenting solo at home or at the hospital with Aaron. To say I was a little sleep-deprived and emotionally spent was an understatement.

Yet, going to work was healthy for me. It distracted me from my concerns for Aaron. I was capable of doing my job well for the most part. Many of my co-workers knew my situation and were empathetic and understanding. Coincidentally, I got a new manager a few weeks after Aaron’s accident. We had exchanged no more than a hello. She wasn’t aware of my son’s accident.

One afternoon, I was meeting with a room full of people, including my new manager. Someone was giving a presentation.  It was a sunny afternoon, and someone turned the lights off to let everyone see the presentation better. Unfortunately, the time of day, the darkened room, and my sleep deprivation caused me to get a little drowsy. I was sitting near the screen in the front of the room, and my drowsiness was noticeable to others.  My new manager was one of them.

A few days passed since that meeting. Another person in our department approached me. They mentioned that my new manager told them she was disappointed in my lack of enthusiasm and disinterest in work. They asked why she had this impression of me. She told them she had seen me nodding off in a critical meeting. Thankfully, my colleague told my new manager that her impressions of me were inaccurate. I was nodding off in the meeting because I was spending evenings at the hospital. My son was in a coma.  

My new manager’s reaction wasn’t even remotely out of the ordinary. Have you ever worked with someone not pulling their weight on a project? Or have you seen a stranger behaving erratically in public? What was your first reaction? Often, we think badly of them. Ideally, we should look at them with empathy and kindness. We don’t know what personal battles that person is fighting. They could be experiencing something in their life that justifies their behavior.

Seeking to gain understanding before forming an opinion of someone is especially important when in a leadership position. It would have been kinder for my new manager to approach me first. She should have asked me how I was doing before formulating a negative view of me. I was fighting a difficult battle she knew nothing about at that moment. I needed her empathy and kindness instead of criticism.