A few years ago there was this Facebook trend where you asked people to post a meme that reminded them of you. I jumped on that bandwagon and laughed at my friends’ and family’s responses. They were varied, but two themes stuck out above the rest: my love for kids and VBS and my get ‘er done mentality. To those who knew me, even just a little, I was the vacation Bible school lady and the one you went to when you needed something done right and done now.
Fast-forward to today. A couple of weeks ago, we made the decision to postpone VBS for this year. It should have started yesterday. Normally, I’d be out at the church by now, frantically rehearsing my opening skit and getting ready to love on 250 or so of my favorite people. Like so many other things, Coronavirus has squashed that. Instead, I’m at home, still in my pajamas, simultaneously depressed and relieved at this. Please let me explain.
I love VBS. Love it. I’m passionate about it and it’s where my heart is. Last year, when Vance died just four days before we started, my friends wouldn’t even consider cancelling, because they knew that the best way to honor and support our family was by going forward with VBS, sharing the Gospel with as many people as they could. Knowing that there is a strong possibility that we may not be able to pull it off this year makes my heart hurt.
At the same time, it’s kinda sorta a relief. Man, it’s hard to admit that. Trust me, it’s not what I wanted to happen. But once the choice was made, a big weight was lifted off my shoulders.
You see, for the last year, I haven’t been able to shake my brain fog. I think intense grief really does change things in your brain. There are probably scientific studies to back this up but I don’t have the mental energy to find them right now.
This girl who used to get so much done, who remembered all the appointments, who showed up when she said she would, this girl….well, she had to call the doctor’s office today and apologize for missing her son’s appointment (again) and hang her head in shame as they rescheduled (again.) Thankfully, my doctor has great people who work for him and the sweet woman I talked to gave me lots of grace. Now, here’s hoping that I don’t forget between now and Wednesday at 2:00.
It’s not just appointments, although I have missed many of them this year. I can’t make choices. At all. Not simple ones, like which nail salon to go to, which plants to buy, or what to make for supper. Worse, I can’t seem to do the big, more important stuff, like applying to grad school or making financial investments.
Losing Vance, solo parenting, COVID-19. It’s like they are just sucking my life force away, one day at a time. Every time we get to a new “normal,” the game changes again. But as I told an overwhelmed friend the other day, yes, God does give us more than we can handle, because in our weakness we see his strength.
So dear ones, thank you for your grace when I forget things. When I don’t show up. When I forget to even acknowledge how amazing and awesome you are. When it seems like I’m not parenting well (I’m probably not). When I make choices you disagree with. When I just don’t seem myself.
A year out, I really thought this would be better by now, but here I am, still foggy on a lot of days. Who knew?