Stream of Consciousness. December 3, 2022

Back when I was getting to know Kyle, I called him out for having barriers. He was mildly offended and intrigued. When I later found out that his mother had been battling Multiple Sclerosis for several years, with many scares of losing her, I felt bad for even mentioning the barriers. He put on a good front. He was bubbly and outgoing. He was the life of every party and had this magnetism that brought even the shyest wallflower out of their shell. That itself was not the front. He was truly an amazing friend to everyone. But he did try to bury the hurt he was feeling constantly with having a mother who was dying.

He did his absolute best to live in the moment, in every moment, during her last years. My goodness that man lived. 

Before I even knew the guy, I got a call from "some guy" in my ward asking me to go on a kayak trip down the river with him and some friends. I was totally broke at the time, so I declined. We chatted for a bit, and he did his best to convince me to come anyway. I'm a stubborn cuss, but that's just who he was, someone who invited random strangers on kayak trips because he wanted everyone to live in the moment with him. 

There were countless times that he decided to drive somewhere to just get away for a bit, always convincing a few friends to join him. It wasn't even a short drive to the mall or wherever. It was a 2 hour drive to the beach or the mountains, a 5 hour drive to Arizona, or a 10 hour drive to Utah. They would often leave with just a few hours notice. 

The fact that he could not only go and act on those desires for adventure, but also convince others to join him was always so fascinating to me. 

His mother ended up passing the day before our wedding. I told him we should postpone the wedding, but he would have none of it. He went surfing that morning of her death. The next day we were married. 

I didn't realize how much he had been suppressing his grief all those years before her passing. He didn't even break down until 3 months after her funeral. I had never really lost someone that close before, so I really had no clue how to help him. I tried to just be there for him and listen and ask for stories about Vicki. I also wrote a song to honor her in the lives of her family members. It was never enough, and I know now that it never could be enough. 

In a way, I modeled what I saw in him grieving his mother as I grieved him passing. The idea that I could suppress and "move on", because there is work to do has been a theme for me the last year. I don't relish that attitude at all and I have been warned that it is not the healthy way to grieve. But the truth is, there isn't a foolproof way to grieve. It is different for every single individual. My methods for grieving have ebbed and flowed through different "solutions", when there was never meant to be a solution. 

I believe that there are times we can sit in our grief and feel the raw intensity of her power. We can use grief as a crutch. We can also use her to lift is up into a state of understanding, of higher power, belief, and gratitude. 

In the beginning, there were a lot of angry moments. Moments where grief brought a cloud of misunderstanding and rage. I wanted to blame someone. I wanted to feel nothing. I wanted to give up everything. I wanted to unfairly be mad at other people's happiness. 

As I journey through this season of grief, I am also discovering how she can be a helpmeet and an albeit inconvenient companion. She has allowed me to sit in gratitude for all that I was able to experience with Kyle. He had such a full life and I'm so grateful I got to have a front row seat to a lot of it. I am grateful for my hope and belief that I will see him again. Allowing myself to not only feel gratitude, but to seek it, has opened the door to the possibility of experiencing joy again.