Secondary Losses

In my last blog I spoke about the void that Benji’s death has left, beyond losing him personally. The loss of other things in our lives connected with our loved ones are not things we often think of needing to grieve, but they are. We have learned these are called secondary losses. If someone loses a spouse it may mean they also lost a companion, a cook, a lover , a provider, a maintenance man, etc. These are all secondary losses. We have been encouraged to identify and name each of those losses and I have found it helpful to do so.

One of those for me is the loss of my “other life”.  Since 2004 Benji and I together really did live two separate lives.  At times the two lives intersected, but they were basically independent from each other.  When we were at the hospital (nearly always at Riley-up until the last 5 months of his life), we had a whole new community.  Aside from family, the majority of our time there we didn’t have connections with or see many people from home.  In fact, there were a couple times we were down there for several weeks (for routine tune-ups) that Allen and the boys weren’t even able to come down.  Benji wouldn’t see his school friends while there and we would often miss church for weeks on end without much contact with church people.  Of course, we did have visitors- during certain times more than other times- but the majority of the time we were alone in our other life.  

We adapted to that, built relationships and formed another community. I only wish I would have had the opportunity to spend that kind of focused time with all the boys (of course under different circumstances), but those times with Benji were very special! In some ways, my relationship with Benji was different there as well; he seemed to be more dependent on me in that life. I enjoyed that though I always encouraged him to be as independent as possible. Though extremely stressful and painful at times, I am so grateful that I was able to be there for him during those especially difficult times.

For those that don’t know, when Benji was admitted to Riley, so was I. ☺  I would move right into the room with him.  When he was younger, we interacted more during his admissions, but once he hit adolescence he became quieter and wanted to do things by himself.  Much of the time, he spent devouring books.  I would do my own thing in my corner and he was in his bed doing his own thing.  It wasn’t unusual for us to go hours without interacting.  It’s a good thing we were both able to entertain ourselves because I’m sure we would have driven each other crazy if the other was a constant chatterer.  Our personalities worked very well in that setting.  I asked him once last summer if he got tired of me living in his room and would he rather I didn’t stay there all the time.  He told me no, he wanted me there.  I was delighted that my nearly 15-year-old son still wanted his mother living in his room and I was prepared to do that as long as he wanted me. I miss spending those moments with him... even the quiet ones.

Benji and I made many, many memories at Riley and had some momentous, life changing experiences there.  

 One humorous experience I will never forget and it is something I’m remembered for by some of the long-time hospital staff, was the time I got locked inside the library.  I was in a corner one evening, deeply involved in working on something on one of the computers when I suddenly became aware that the rest of the library was very quiet.  I went out to look around and found the lights off, the place was completely empty and it had obviously been closed.  I collected my things and went to leave but discovered the doors wouldn’t open; they were locked and I was actually locked inside the library!  I panicked for a moment and thought  I’d have to wait there until morning, and I wondered what Benji would think when his mom never came back that evening.  I then thought about it that I had my phone on me so I called up to the unit and sheepishly told the nurse I needed some help.  It wasn’t long before a security guard showed up to let me out.  This happened around seven years ago and just this past summer the librarian brought it up again.

In that other life, I loved interacting with the medical staff.  They treated me (and Allen too) as one of the team and I was able to participate and give input into Benji's care.  I loved researching & learning about each new thing as it came along, and I wanted to understand every detail regarding his health.  I miss feeling the drive to do that.  

While there, I also became accustomed to making many decisions on my own; sometimes some pretty weighty ones in crisis moments.  I learned to appreciate my time alone while there and have even come to see alone time as vital- I miss that time.  I often felt energized by my life there- I miss who I was there. 

My bed in the corner and my wash line

I miss sleeping on my air mattress in the corner.  Early on, during one of our admissions one of the staff suggested I bring in an air mattress to sleep on, rather than using those uncomfortable chair beds.  It was a great idea and from then on, that was what I did.  It, along with many other things became part of our “hospital box” (the box of things we took along to the hospital- always ready to go whenever Benji needed to be admitted.)

Giving Benji one of many haircuts he got while at Riley

I miss speaking to Anne- the eccentric elderly volunteer who has worked the front desk for many years and would give me our parking passes.   I miss eating from the Rice Bowl on Thursdays or the Pasta bar on Wednesdays.  

I miss making Rise Krispy squares while there, and passing them out to the staff.  (That is where I learned I could make them in the microwave.  If you happen to be someone who still makes these on your stove-top, you need to cease and desist immediately!  That yucky pan you have to clean afterward?  Not when you do it in the microwave!)  ☺  

I miss passing out Rise and Roll donuts and hearing the cries of delight when those who have previously 

Woody...thoroughly enjoying her donut

had them discover we  brought more.  Or seeing the expressions of amazement from those eating one for the first time.  Or watching Woodie, eating hers with a look of pure ecstasy, with powdered sugar all over her face, guarding it as if her life depended on it.  Those donuts have become quite legendary there, and will be connected with Benji for years to come.  I’m hearing from other patient’s families that they keep hearing about these wonderful donuts the Eash family used to bring in. 
 

 There is so much I miss about that life….

Now that I’ve given you a small window into this loss, does it surprise you if I tell you that if I could, I would rent a room at Riley for a week?   

And that I was starting to go stir-crazy at home?   

There were very few times that we went this long without a hospital stay (I know there was one time; maybe two or three times in 9 years).  

I’m ready to go back to that life for a period of time again.   

To change up my routine as I used to do.   

To interact with my friends there on a day-to-day basis and catch up on their lives.  

(When we visit, we only get to see the few people who happen to be working during that shift.)  I am very grateful for FB, which allows me to stay in contact with some of the staff.

Unfortunately, that season of my life has passed and I am grieving that loss and will need to find a way to replace it.  Until that time, I’m just grateful for a flexible schedule and a  husband and sons who graciously allowed me to at least change up my routine and get away.  

My view on Siesta Key

I’m currently staying on the beach on Siesta Key soaking in the beauty of God’s creation, basking in the sunshine, breathing in the salt air, watching incredible sunsets and every now and then, taking a dip in the warm waters of the Gulf.

I’m here all alone, taking time to read, write, reflect, and talk to and listen to what God wants to say to me. 

- For two weeks!  

I know that many of you have never been apart from your spouse or kids for anywhere near that long, but once again it’s all about perspective.  Two weeks of separation in our family is a relatively short time compared to what we have become accustomed to over the years.  I’m thoroughly enjoying my alone time here and I’m so glad I decided to come for two weeks; tomorrow will be one week since I came and I feel like I just got here.  I need this next week yet to feel like I at least began to accomplish what I came for. 

Secondary losses…. 

Something I had never considered previously but am now attempting to identify and work through.   

I wonder how many there are and how long that will take….  

I have become much less judgmental about how others choose to grieve and how long it takes them.  We all process so differently and without walking in their shoes; I have no idea what they’re dealing with or how many secondary losses they are experiencing- that they need to have time to work through.  

  

I may now be the one to need patience from others while I process mine....