unfinished business

There a feeling that seems to stay with me.  Sometimes it is intense and I can't focus on anything else.  Sometimes it blurs into the background.  But, it is always there, on some level.  I feel like something is unfinished.  I feel like I mowed half of the lawn, or made the batter for a cake, but never baked it.  I feel like I prepared the soil for a garden, but never planted.  I feel like I turned the car on, but never drove anywhere.  It is an unsettling feeling.  It is an unfinished feeling.

I feel that because I did mow half the lawn.  I did make the batter, but never baked the cake.  I did prepare the soil, but never got a chance to plant.  I did turn the car on, but never drove anywhere. Now the car is running and I am wondering what to do.  I have all this energy to finish what I began, but have no ability to do so. I just want to finish it.  I wouldn't even care if it were hard or painful or tedious.  I don't care how laborious it is.  I just want to feel like I can finish what I started.  (And not necessarily for the sake of finishing.)

I guess that's what happens when you nurture and care for and give birth to a child now, but have to wait until later to raise them.  It doesn't flow the way it should and it has left me with an unfinished feeling.

There are times when I remember the events of November 5th and wonder how I was able to walk away when it was all done.  How could I give birth, watch death, and then bury my child, and walk away?  It seems crazy.  But even through those events, I was still doing something. It may not have been something pleasant but there was something to do. There was something.  I had to do those things.  Maybe I didn't even want to do some of them, but it was necessary. But, now that there is nothing tangible to do.  I recognize that those things were better than nothing. It was care of some type. Dressing his body, even though it was cold, was better than dressing nothing. And nothing it what I have now.

I can go to the cemetery and clean up his grave.  I can move his belongings around to different boxes. I can write. But, it just doesn't satisfy that feeling.  Nothing does because nothing is supposed to.

I think to myself (in a totally irrational way) why did I leave it unfinished?  I should have finished it!!!  I should have finished.  But....I did finish.  It is so hard to have the feeling like I didn't.

I know that I completed the work that God needed me to do at that time.  I felt that impression and knew it was truth.  That was all I needed to do for Eli....for now.  At least physically.  There are things I can do, but they are not physical things for him as a baby.  They are not tangible.  If I completed the work I was supposed to do at this time for Eli, why do I feel so unfinished?  Because I can't just flip the switch and turn off that part of me that  wants to mother him in the traditional nursing, rocking, caring sense.  That part of me keeps playing but the rest has been silenced.

I will always feel this way in some sense, but I believe time will ease and dull it.

A couple of years ago I had some unfinished business.  I used to run quite a bit in high school and college and I thought it would be fun to change up my routine and start running more regularly again.  It didn't go very well. I tried to train for a half marathon, but my leg was giving me such trouble and I eventually stopped running all together.

It has stayed unfinished all this time and has bothered me.  Not a lot, but enough to annoy me.  I knew it was an easy thing to resolve and I wanted to wrap up this loose end.  (Not everything can be resolved).  I ran a half marathon the end of April.  It felt good to finish this.  I don't need any extra unfinished business floating around in the back of my mind.  I very much enjoyed the run.  It was through the gardens at Thanksgiving Point during the tulip festival.  It was beautiful.  It is a rather small race, which I really enjoyed.  I liked that we were all doing the same thing.  Probably many different reasons, and many different skill levels, but we were all running the same race.  It was nice to do something hard with so many people around doing the same hard thing. I feel, oftentimes, that I am doing something hard, and am doing it alone.  I know this isn't totally true, but part of it is true.  There are parts of grieving that are just lonely.  It's not necessarily that you don't have support or friendship, but certain roads only have access for one.  I think that's why I enjoyed the race so much.  Everyone was doing something hard.  I also noticed the effort it took for people to run.  The race was set up so that you have to do some backtracking.  You would run to a certain place and then turn around and run back for awhile before the trail diverted again.  I could see people that were ahead of me and behind me because of this.  There were many people ahead of me who looked like gazelles as they ran effortlessly along the trails.  (I'm no gazelle).  There were many people behind me who looked like they were exerting extreme effort to move forward even one step.  So the effort people exerted didn't have much to do with where they were on the path; which I found interesting and inspiring in many ways.  Around mile four we were running on a gravel path.  I thought about how grief and this race were similar.  We were running on an odd little path and there was no one around, and I wondered where are those people were that I saw at the starting line.  Why isn't there an aid station here or some family members cheering?  Sure, it's nice to have someone at the starting line and the finish line, but what about some of the miles in between? What about the gravel road at mile four? I could have used a friendly face right then.

And as for the aid stations: Sometimes the aid stations don't have what you want or need.  It's not like they aren't trying.  People with bright, shining friendly faces hold out a cup of water to you, but sometimes you refuse it.  Sometimes drinking the water would do more harm than good. I am a minimalist when I run so I refused most of the smiling faced offerings. Sometimes it's just not what you need.  Another nice parallel.

When I got near the end, I kept waiting for Mile marker 12. It never came.  I kind of wonder if it even existed. I was trying to save just a bit of steam for that last mile, but before I knew it, I was just a block away from the finish line. I should have been relieved.  I was a little, but kind of bugged because I was ready to go and there was no race left. I was ready for a part of the race that never happened.  (That is a feeling I have felt before).

I ran through the last stretch before the finish line. There were fences up to separate the runners from the crowds. I looked anxiously for my family. I saw many faces and didn't care an ounce about the other people I saw. I just wanted to see my husband and kids. I finally did. They were right next to the finish line. I saw their faces and was so happy, relieved, comfortable. They had their team G shirts on. During the race, I thought I should have planned better and had everyone wear their shirts. I should have worn mine. My planning skills haven't been as honed as they normally are.  I felt such gratitude when I saw those shirts. Jason had known what to do. I can't totally describe the feeling I had, but I felt like I was part of something bigger than myself. I felt I represented my family. I felt they all cared about my race. It was just a silly  race, but the symbolism was important for me.

 When I was very near the finish line and there was a pacer running just ahead of me. For those not savvy in the running world, they have "pacers" that run with a sign stating what pace they are running at. I guess to help motivate and help you regulate your pace. I hadn't seen this pacer since the beginning. I didn't care. I wasn't trying to keep up. But, the person looked at me and kind of waved the sign in the air; almost most in a taunting way.  They could have meant to to be encouraging, but there was a least a hint of taunting. I don't like being taunted.  I knew I would have to sprint as fast as I could (which isn't that fast) to catch them before the finish line. I did and caught up right before I crossed. I'm sure I looked ridiculous as I ran in front of all of those people. Didn't care. It was a great day.

Thanks for being so smart, honey, and wearing your shirts to the race. I was happy to have my team there. I was happy that they were there to support me and love me. I was happy to have that small piece of unfinished business finished.

As for the much larger and more significant piece of unfinished business....it will have to stay unfinished and I will have to learn how to live with that feeling....until later...