Moving Melancholy Out
Oct 09, 2023
"I took the time to feel melancholy."
--Me
I paid off Truffle's medical bills yesterday. It ended up being more than I anticipated, which frustrated me. I explained to the pet insurance lady, Danielle, that I understood it to be less. She pulled up all the bills and she was right. It was so annoying. I was thinking of my best retort when she looked at me with sad eyes and said, "I just paid off my dog's last chemo and I work here. I understand how you feel. You and I did everything we could to make our babies' lives better and longer...and then we lost them. I lost Sandy in March. It was not only devastating, but I felt so powerless and empty."
That witty retort disappeared when I felt the sadness welling up in me for her, too. I quietly got out my American Express Card and handed it to her. "I'm so sorry for your loss, too."
"I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you," Danielle said as she handed me my receipt. "We're sorry we couldn't to more for Truffle."
I made it to the car before I cried. It's a good thing, too, because I'm an ugly crier. I sat there for awhile because I couldn't see to drive. I also didn't realize how raw I still feel sometimes and how much I still miss Truffle.
Grief is weird. It shows up in the most surprising times and sometimes for the most interesting events.
When I got home, I grabbed my journal so I could process my feelings by writing. I couldn't shake the melancholy--which was NOT good because I had a workshop in the next two hours.
Here's what I found. Some of the grief was for my prior position as CEO, too. My workshop was for a pregnancy medical center and I'd been running through all my memories from those 14 years as I prepared. That's just weird, because I left that position to start my own coaching/training business in 2018. I realized that I missed that leadership position and the people that I worked with.
AND I was tired. I've been incredibly and thankfully busy these last three weeks. This is the time for strategic planning workshops for organizations. I love helping teams flesh out their vision for the next year, and since each team has different needs, my workshop planning needs to reflect that, so I can meet their specific needs. Writing to meet their needs tooks lots of thought.
How did I move out the melancholy? Remembering the good. I took the
time to reflect on all the good times that we had with Truffle.
She could be so funny. Like the picture. She thought she was totally hidden under the bed. She got so excited when anything from Amazon came because she thought it was hers. And it was sometimes. She loved to run like the wind. I got so much joy just watching her off leash. The list is long.
I remembered the good from my position as CEO, too. I thanked God for all He had taught me at that job and was grateful to pass that on to another center.
Then I worshipped. If you are not a person of faith, you can pull out your favorite play list and dance and sing. That's what I did. I closed the shades to my office first--my neighbors still think I'm a bubble off off of level--and I danced and sang.
The melancholy moved out.
I don't know if this email helped you at all. It helped me. Thank you for listening.
If you need someone to help you process your grief (I am not a licensed counselor.) or any kind of feelings, I'm an email away. We can be there for each other--like Danielle was there for me.
That witty retort disappeared when I felt the sadness welling up in me for her, too. I quietly got out my American Express Card and handed it to her. "I'm so sorry for your loss, too."
"I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you," Danielle said as she handed me my receipt. "We're sorry we couldn't to more for Truffle."
I made it to the car before I cried. It's a good thing, too, because I'm an ugly crier. I sat there for awhile because I couldn't see to drive. I also didn't realize how raw I still feel sometimes and how much I still miss Truffle.
Grief is weird. It shows up in the most surprising times and sometimes for the most interesting events.
When I got home, I grabbed my journal so I could process my feelings by writing. I couldn't shake the melancholy--which was NOT good because I had a workshop in the next two hours.
Here's what I found. Some of the grief was for my prior position as CEO, too. My workshop was for a pregnancy medical center and I'd been running through all my memories from those 14 years as I prepared. That's just weird, because I left that position to start my own coaching/training business in 2018. I realized that I missed that leadership position and the people that I worked with.
AND I was tired. I've been incredibly and thankfully busy these last three weeks. This is the time for strategic planning workshops for organizations. I love helping teams flesh out their vision for the next year, and since each team has different needs, my workshop planning needs to reflect that, so I can meet their specific needs. Writing to meet their needs tooks lots of thought.
How did I move out the melancholy? Remembering the good. I took the
time to reflect on all the good times that we had with Truffle.She could be so funny. Like the picture. She thought she was totally hidden under the bed. She got so excited when anything from Amazon came because she thought it was hers. And it was sometimes. She loved to run like the wind. I got so much joy just watching her off leash. The list is long.
I remembered the good from my position as CEO, too. I thanked God for all He had taught me at that job and was grateful to pass that on to another center.
Then I worshipped. If you are not a person of faith, you can pull out your favorite play list and dance and sing. That's what I did. I closed the shades to my office first--my neighbors still think I'm a bubble off off of level--and I danced and sang.
The melancholy moved out.
I don't know if this email helped you at all. It helped me. Thank you for listening.
If you need someone to help you process your grief (I am not a licensed counselor.) or any kind of feelings, I'm an email away. We can be there for each other--like Danielle was there for me.