About six months after my son died, I began to realize that some people were in a hurry for me to return to “normal.” They didn’t like that I was hurting so deeply. One person said that my pain was her pain and she wanted it to stop. At the time, I wondered whose pain she was more concerned about, mine or hers. People around me wanted life the way it used to be.
I did too.
But my life will never be what it used to be. Planning vacations for our family of four, going to North Carolina for Thanksgiving, calling my son to see how his day was or receiving a random text message from him about some amazing car he has just seen were normal parts of my life before my son died. What made my life normal in the past no longer exists. I had to create a “new normal” from the remains of the life I once knew.
In some situations, the new normal can be better than the old. A change in career or job has the potential to bring about a whole new purpose in life. A new relationship might prove to be deeper and richer than the one that ended.
My new normal, however, is not better. Perhaps it will be one day, but right now, I have a hard time imagining such an outcome.
Life without him is different, but not better.
Granted, certain aspects of my life are better. My faith is stronger. My grip on the things of this world is weaker. My love for my husband and daughter is deeper. I am more in tune with nature and people, because of a new appreciation for the rhythm found in life and death, and in joy and sorrow. The big picture of life is becoming more apparent to me, therefore being stuck in traffic, missing an appointment or having to wait for a table doesn’t bother me as much as it once did. My new house is smaller. My needs are fewer.
But life itself is not better.
My friend, Molly, was a dance instructor who taught people of all ages how to dance. She loved dancing as much as she loved teaching. Her life and her career revolved around dancing.
Molly had to have her leg amputated below the knee due to a blood clot that went undetected for too long. While Molly will dance again, she knows her life will never be the same. She has been forced to find her new normal.
Molly will tell you her new normal is better in many ways—she has made new friends, renewed her faith in God, realized the depth of love and compassion in our community and discovered an inner strength she never knew existed.
Part of creating a new normal after a major loss like Molly’s or mine is recognizing and accepting what has changed. Research shows that among those changes as a result of intense grief are changes in the brain.
Dr. Arif Najib, a German researcher, used MRI scans to study the changes in the brains of women who had experienced grief over the loss of a romantic partner and published his results in the December 2004 issue of the American Journal of Psychiatry.
Not surprisingly, the scans indicated increased activity in the regions of the brain associated with sadness. However, the region of the brain associated with emotion, motivation and attention showed much less activity.
This kind of research is helpful in understanding grief, but the findings come as no surprise to anyone who has experienced it.
A woman in a grief support group I used to attend was always very punctual. Since the death of her husband, she has had difficulty getting anywhere on time. Another friend from that same group never used to have a problem keeping her finances in order before her husband died. After he died, she began making impulse purchases of clothing or items for her house that she knew she did not need.
Profound grief changes people.
Some of my family and friends might want me to be the same old Sandy I was before Jacob’s death, but that’s not possible. Besides, I like the person I’ve become. Maybe they will too, eventually.
Your “new normal” has helped me see things with more of an eternal perspective…I need that more & more…even texting you today about my dream helped me see more clearly the stuff I am busy with is not worth stressing over! Your writings help me do that too! Thanks!
Kim, you were one of those who clearly went into the darkness with me and loved me all the way through it. You helped me figure out what the “new normal” was. How do I even begin to thank you? We’ve learned a lot over the past 3 1/2 years.
I’m glad you knew/know how to take the time you need.
In our hurry up, get over it, world sometimes others don’t want to give us the time it takes.
When both my in-laws died within five weeks of each other, it was a hard blow. I didn’t know how to grieve. Didn’t know how to make it happen, until one time, what I bottled up unintentionally, came out and I had a break down.
It’s good you’ve given yourself room to be what grief has brought about. I like it so far, what little I know of you.