Grief high tides and time off

In October 2020, I finally took a few days off for the first time since the pandemic started. This gave me: 1) the creativity of thought that comes from unstructured time, 2) space for thinking and emotional processing, and 3) more exercise. The downsides were that the change in routine made family life a bit more difficult.

Since then, I’ve repeatedly rediscovered that time off from normal schedules means destabilization for me and other members of my family. I attribute this to a) having to function in acute grief amid our normal (intense) academic work & childcare routines, such that loss of them is disconcerting, and b) the intensity of that schedule meaning that grief can sometimes pile up in the background, unacknowledged. As said in this GriefCast podcast with Amanda Palmer, “grief waits until it can be heard”.

Over time, we’ve realized that the fall is a time when my grief high tides are more like king tides – extra-large, and apt to cause flooding. They are worse in anticipation of the deathiversary, culminating in the week leading up to the anniversary. This isn’t to say they are consistently awful. There were times most days when I was tired and crabby and insecure and anxious (just our houseboat would get unbalanced at high tide). But there were also times in most days when felt great – efficient, centered, curious, and resilient (call this low tide because it’s when our boat was on mud and stable).

But after the anniversary the high tides recede, as they did by mid-November 2020. Then it felt like I could use the feelings to make better decisions rather than be swamped by them so frequently.