Second Anniversary of Jeff’s Death
And somewhere between the bustle of Immersion weekend and Mutton and Mead, the second anniversary of Jeff’s death snuck by without me noticing.
I went back last night and read my old Live Journal entries about the couple of days after he died and the wake. And cried my way through a couple of Kleenex, remembering it all. I’d forgotten that I was already struggling with depression (as in didn’t want to get out of bed) right before it happened. All I remembered was that I’d had pike drill with the Guild on the Saturday when he was having a heart attack and I’d been looking forward to telling Jeff all about it that Monday morning when I got into the office.
I’d forgotten how much effort everyone took to take care of me, especially Ulli. And I remember that Thila and I became friends because I waited with her in the receiving line a second time because it was her first American funeral (and only her second funeral ever), and I didn’t want her to have to wait all by herself. And I remembered our CEO hugging me after the wake, because getting spontaneously hugged by your CEO tends to be a bit memorable.
I’d forgotten how much I cried at the time. Because it felt like I wasn’t crying nearly enough, like I was shoving stuff down and trying to hold it together when all I really wanted to do was fall apart. I was in over my head, and I knew it and I was just trying to hang on for dear life.
So it’s been two years since I started with the weekly massage therapy because of the stress induced sciatica. It took four or five months for the sciatica to go away (oddly enough, my back cleared up right about when we hired my Minion, imagine that!). But the stress never really let up. And I never felt like I had time to properly mourn Jeff. Which is part of why I took this whole summer off. Because it was time to finally give myself some space for what I needed to do two years ago. Grieve. And deal with the stress.
I went back last night and read my old Live Journal entries about the couple of days after he died and the wake. And cried my way through a couple of Kleenex, remembering it all. I’d forgotten that I was already struggling with depression (as in didn’t want to get out of bed) right before it happened. All I remembered was that I’d had pike drill with the Guild on the Saturday when he was having a heart attack and I’d been looking forward to telling Jeff all about it that Monday morning when I got into the office.
I’d forgotten how much effort everyone took to take care of me, especially Ulli. And I remember that Thila and I became friends because I waited with her in the receiving line a second time because it was her first American funeral (and only her second funeral ever), and I didn’t want her to have to wait all by herself. And I remembered our CEO hugging me after the wake, because getting spontaneously hugged by your CEO tends to be a bit memorable.
I’d forgotten how much I cried at the time. Because it felt like I wasn’t crying nearly enough, like I was shoving stuff down and trying to hold it together when all I really wanted to do was fall apart. I was in over my head, and I knew it and I was just trying to hang on for dear life.
So it’s been two years since I started with the weekly massage therapy because of the stress induced sciatica. It took four or five months for the sciatica to go away (oddly enough, my back cleared up right about when we hired my Minion, imagine that!). But the stress never really let up. And I never felt like I had time to properly mourn Jeff. Which is part of why I took this whole summer off. Because it was time to finally give myself some space for what I needed to do two years ago. Grieve. And deal with the stress.