"It is the new norm with which we must learn to live": regarding "Acceptance" the final stage of grief according to Elizabeth Kubler-Ross and David Kessler.
This idea of living in a new normal is something so many people are struggling with right now due to COVID-19. With most of the United States and many parts of the world under a "Stay at Home" order of some kind, our new realities are shockingly small and extraordinarily tech dependent. For our graduating seniors of HS and college, many are grieving missing out on the spring semester of senior year - things they looked forward to for nearly 3.5 years. Weddings are being canceled. Funerals are being postponed. Birthdays now center on drive-by parades or virtual parties through FaceTime and Zoom. It is temporary - but long enough that real life changes must be made. We must find new routines and create new normals.
This mirrors what our family is experiencing with Bunny gone. It's a whole laundry list of new norms and routines that are pretty much centered around our home, but without her in it. Like COVID-19, it is not the final reality - but it is long enough that we cannot live as if we have simply pressed "pause" on life and things will restart as they should soon. Events, holidays, birthdays and significant moments will be missed, never to come again. In some ways, everyone now has a small taste of what it is like to be a part of the justice system we are experiencing. I think people can empathize more with isolation and limited freedom and missing out on what seemed to be a regular activity just last month.
I - personally - am struggling with this push towards a new reality.
I found myself setting out 4 plates, not 5. For the longest time I automatically got out 5 plates and had to put 1 back. I've finally learned that I am only counting to 4. And that reality makes me grieve all over again.
Knowing it will be at least 8-12 months without her in our home, I told the boys to think of a fun summer vacation - assuming COVID will have passed. We are no longer expecting her home this summer so the four of us might as well do something together. And that reality made me grieve again.
Bunny's favorite blanket "Fuzzy" keeps ending up on the floor by morning. I've been clutching it through the night like a life preserver for months. Now it's a blanket that gets kicked off when it's too warm in bed. And that reality makes me grieve again.
A new normal without her - even for a just a season - makes me feel like I've given up on her. Like I've stopped fighting to keep her her. Like I've accepted the 20 minutes of contact via phone each week as the fullness of our connection. And that makes me grieve...
I feel guilty for being so helpless. I feel guilty for even seeming to move on in the smallest ways. I feel like every moment that I accept her absence will make it that much harder to fit her back in when she returns. And I don't want that. I want a permanent Bunny-shaped hole in my heart and in our home that can only be filled by her upon her return. I want an empty place setting - and empty chair - a fuzzy wrapped around me at night.
But like COVID 19, the other end of this experience will not go back to the normal that was before. We will continue into a NEW normal. Maybe one that is more empathetic. That values connection. That has freakishly clean hands. It makes me think maybe I shouldn't save a Bunny-sized whole - because she may need a different size or shape when she returns. Because she too will be changed.
And the forces changing her...that too makes me grieve.....
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