Not PTSD; PTL

Post 249

I took part of yesterday and part of today off work to volunteer for a big fundraiser for Graces of Gurley. Did I ever tell you what their mission is? It’s the statement in this picture, and it does make a giant difference in my community. By the way, when I write about “S”, the young teen (now) who I mentor and is helping me with my book, she is second from the right. In the picture, taken a couple Saturdays ago, they were helping to raise funds for Helping Hands International by Walking 4 Water.

I got to see S and so many of the other teens I have grown to love last night. To be honest, I could see them more often, but I have not made it to the church almost all of them attend very much lately.

Late last week when one of my walks started at the park in town, I noticed they had put out Christmas tree stands, ready for all the trees that will line the path. Trees are sponsored by local churches, businesses, and people who are memorializing a loved one, and can be decorated any way a person wishes. Even though we cannot bring ourselves to celebrate Christmas this year, I thought it would be fitting to get Mo a tree and decorate one there. Unfortunately, I called this week and am too late. A tree purchase had to be done by November 1st apparently, so I suppose we will start in 2024.

I had not walked through town and to The Spot since last week, so that was my chosen route today. As I pulled up to the park, they were installing the live trees. I drove right by and parked at a church a few blocks away, closer to The Spot instead. It got my heart racing a bit because I’m now being bombarded by Christmas. Many of the radio stations I listen to have already started some Christmas music, the stores have been at it for a while now (thankfully I don’t shop much), and people are naturally planning for all of the festive things that happen this time of year. As I thought more about everything, the wave came crashing in, and I was full-blown tears dripping by the time I reached Mo. I think I’ll use Pandora only for the time being.

I realize now I have to backtrack a bit to yesterday’s walk to tell the full story. I’d recently received another email newsletter from the While We’re Waiting group and the writeup of the podcasts sounded interesting to me because they mentioned both the time frame of the deceased child (also just going on a year), and that there was some medical incompetence involved. I listened to much of the podcast yesterday on my walk at Hays Backend (Flint River Greenway), and began feeling both sad and angry. In my mind, I “cried out” for a sign from God to show her to me. I was thinking please God, - a GBH, a cardinal, even a bluebird, which I’ve seen more of lately, and tacked butterfly on at the end of the request, even though they have all but disappeared. Moments later, a little golden butterfly flew right across the path. I started almost laughing. Wow. I looked to the right immediately to see where it went, and I could not see it at all. It was like it materialized and disappeared, although I’m sure it was just hard to see. It happened very quickly.

On today’s walk another strange dog-induced timing thing happened after I’d been to The Spot and was now walking the country road. We usually walk to a particular house’s mailbox because the next house in line, forty yards later, sometimes has their dog out loose. Today, my pitsky wouldn’t even walk to where we usually do. She stubbornly decided it was time to turn around, so okay, we did. Maybe a minute or two later, another butterfly, same size and color as yesterday’s, flew right in front of us. I again thought WOW, thanks, you're here. (Now maybe there are butterflies flying across paths immediately after I pass and I of course never know, but these are the ONLY two butterflies I saw yesterday or today.)

I’m still thinking about how I’m feeling though, thankful, but yet sad, and I know it’s not anything to do with Christmas itself, but the post-traumatic flashbacks and feelings of that time. I know people sometimes - I think carelessly - throw out the term PTSD. I say carelessly for two reasons. First, I think that term first came into existence when describing the anguish of soldiers. I do not want to steal it from their experiences, because as awful as losing a child is, it is not the same as witnessing the evil many of them have had to. The second reason I don’t want to use PTSD for how I feel, is because it is Post-Traumatic, but it is not a Stress Disorder. It is not a disorder at all. It is completely normal to feel and think the things that I do. Losing a child is and always will be PTL, Post-Traumatic Living. PTL can be strong or not strong on a particular day or even particular hour, but all bereaved parents in this terrible club must have it I’m sure.

It is going to take a lot of strength to get through the rest of November and all of December, but thankfully, I know Who has and will continue to give me that strength. Enjoy your weekends!