With Rue being home, safe in Bend one would think that my job as coordinator would be less stressful. In many senses it is; there is no more mad rush to pack a box and get it off in a few hours or the logistics of when to ship the next box so it’s not sitting too long at the post office. There is no worrying if it’s raining, snowing, or a threat of tornadoes coming at him. I don’t find myself wondering if I packed enough food in the box or if he has enough money to eat if there’s not enough food. All of these stresses are gone, and I am glad he’s home, out of the weather, getting proper nutrition, medical care, as well as love and support in person from his friends and community.
Now though, I find myself in a state of flux. My life for the past 9 months has been all of the above, as well as phone calls, texts, and messages with Rue making plans, assessing plans and us coaching each other through it all. While we all know the trail and hike will continue the uncertainty of it all has me feeling unstable. My role was clear: manage as much as possible so Rue can focus on hiking and the creation of the APT. With him home, at least momentarily, we find ourselves having to forge new paths and it creates its own stress. I also have to grieve the change. We both had big plans for when he walked home, and while those have just been delayed, I know for me I still have to grieve that change.
Maybe you’re curious why I chose the word grieve. I chose it because it is grief. Grief occurs in many different forms, but especially when you have dreams about how something will appear, and it does not happen that way. I had visions of that celebration and the path to move forward from that, all of that has changed and I have to grieve that loss, while accepting that this path is beautiful just the same. My life is a little different now that he’s home in Bend, and as he is adjusting so am I.
Now though, I find myself in a state of flux. My life for the past 9 months has been all of the above, as well as phone calls, texts, and messages with Rue making plans, assessing plans and us coaching each other through it all. While we all know the trail and hike will continue the uncertainty of it all has me feeling unstable. My role was clear: manage as much as possible so Rue can focus on hiking and the creation of the APT. With him home, at least momentarily, we find ourselves having to forge new paths and it creates its own stress. I also have to grieve the change. We both had big plans for when he walked home, and while those have just been delayed, I know for me I still have to grieve that change.
Maybe you’re curious why I chose the word grieve. I chose it because it is grief. Grief occurs in many different forms, but especially when you have dreams about how something will appear, and it does not happen that way. I had visions of that celebration and the path to move forward from that, all of that has changed and I have to grieve that loss, while accepting that this path is beautiful just the same. My life is a little different now that he’s home in Bend, and as he is adjusting so am I.
