Long time readers have probably noticed the dearth of blog posts this year. And that’s because it’s been a very difficult year. Between surgeries, health issues, and the stage of life I’m in there hasn’t been much room for slowing down or writing. Or even thinking.
So I gave myself the month of July off.
First, because I needed a break and some time where I wasn’t trying to meet deadlines and quotas. Second, because I was traveling back to the USA to say goodbye to family members.
In early June the grandma that the internet has lovingly known as my Meemaw was diagnosed with a lump in her lung that we were fairly certain was cancerous. Her health has been in rapid decline, and although she’s still present mentally her body isn’t able to keep up. She broke a bone in her hip in mid-June the same week the tests came back showing cancer and that it was inoperable.
At the time I took off for the states I’d also been informed one of my best friends was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer.
And so I entered a very somber July.
My family flew from Korea back to the USA to say goodbye to my grandmother, my husband’s grandfather is older and failing quickly, with regular parents who are suffering from various ailments along the way. Instead of habit retreats everything felt like a somber goodbye.
Returning home to Korea was bittersweet. On one hand, I should be thrilled to be back home in a place I know, with a bed I like, and familiar neighbors. On the other, I worry that I’m too far away to help my friends or family, that I’ve somehow failed everyone by making choices that led me across the ocean instead of staying nearby, and I question what I can do to make it all okay.
And that’s the hardest part.
I want to click my heels together or wave a magic wand and make everything better. But that’s not how life works. There isn’t some magic that will keep my aging loved ones alive. As much pain as my grandmother is in, it’s not even fair to ask her to hang in there.
Instead we spent the short time we had stateside celebrating her. We held a party for her 91st birthday. We went to the zoo and took pictures feeding the giraffes to match the pictures we have with me as a toddler being held by my grandma feeding the giraffes in San Diego. We spent time together, told stories, and today she entered hospice.
And… here we are.
I don’t have an easy answer for this. I don’t have a magical formula to make grief and loss turn into sparkles and sunshine. There isn’t any sort of one-size-fits-all answer for this. Grief is a matter of taking one breath at a time. Moving from one day to the next. Letting yourself feel all the feelings, even the yucky ones, and then moving to whatever helps heal you.
For me that means downtime and writing whatever catches my fancy. I’m rewatching The Legend of Fuyao (a Chinese drama), reading old books, sorting through photos, and scribbling down scenes for random short stories that will probably never see the light of day. And… that’s okay.
Not every moment of life needs to be about progress or hitting a deadline. There are times in your life when your soul needs rest. When your brain needs comfort. When your body craves stillness.
If you are struggling, take this as permission to give yourself time to rest.
I need rest. You need rest. We all need rest sometimes.
Everyone deserves to have space to grieve, to mourn, and to adjust to changes in their life. Good or bad.
I’m going to take the time I need. I’m giving myself permission to play and relax. And, when I’ve had a chance to regroup, we’ll see how that impacts my blogging. The books will always come first (and All I Want For Christmas Is A Cryptid is with my editor so you will have your December book), but the blog will come back to life too. It’s just going to take some time.