Hiraeth- my home away from home

It was a typical day at the Caribbean Mountain Academy in the Dominican Republic where I worked as a missionary.  I was hiking the mountain behind our campus, guiding a family who had never been on the trails before.

"Are you sitting down?" a stranger asked on the other line as I answered my phone.

"That's strange," I thought. Normally I can't even get reception up here.

"I'm so-and-so from the German embassy".  My stomach sank, instantly knowing what she was going to say next.  I sat on the rocky ground in a daze as she explained the news of my sister's death.  I remember my friends surrounding me and praying for me as I stared straight ahead, not seeing anything but with tears streaming down my face.  I remember somehow making my way down the mountain but feeling like I was floating and not really experiencing it.

The 'spot'

Fast forward almost TWO years later, and I'm in the EXACT same SPOT where I had collapsed to the ground and heard the traumatizing news.  I remember that awful day vividly as I sit there now.  I look around and note that the place has not changed one bit.  Except for ME.  I'm not crying this time. Just reflecting.  I never thought I would come back here.  I never thought I could be in such a healthy place and survive this.  The pain is still there, but I can also recall how God has worked in my life these last two years, comforting me and healing me in his special way.

When I left the DR a year ago, I had many negative and bitter memories associated with it.  Coming back after a year allowed me to have closure and remember all the things I loved about this amazing place. The good, the bad, the ugly.  It's all here.  Except this time I feel lighter, able to remember all the good memories that I had while here.

There is a nostalgic longing for this place - a place I didn't think I would ever return to.  The English language does not have a word for this feeling.  But other languages have it - the Welsh hiraeth, the Portuguese saudade, the Romanian dor, etc.

It's a concept that's hard to explain, but one that the global nomad is all too familiar with.  

I left the DR due to circumstances outside of my control.  It just didn't seem fair!

But my visit to the DR this time around reminded me of something that I knew all along...

GOD IS ALWAYS IN CONTROL.

When I was stranded in Miami due to Hurricane Maria, I questioned whether I was really supposed to come to the DR or not.  Was I being foolish?  I was the only crazy American still on the flight trying to get there.  After the third or fourth cancellation I thought, "This is it.  I will sleep in the airport tonight and if it's cancelled tomorrow morning, then I will cancel my trip and go home."  I cried at this realization and a man from my flight kindly gave me his dinner and tried to console me.  He was a missionary in Santiago and let me read two of his books.  

The titles? Fearless Faith and Safe in the Storm.

Really?!

So I read them.  There was nothing else to do! 

But I felt such a peace at being reminded of God's sovereignty and control in the midst of the storm.

"We have all the desire to control things that we cannot, and we often forget how deeply God cares for us..

We think that if our circumstances change, we will be at peace...

Difficult times are opportunities to be grateful for the strength that Christ supplied, that we might endure them...

God will not protect you from what he can perfect you from...

If you are doubting his Sovereignty, review His promises"

Ok, God I get it!

Miraculously, the flight took off without a problem the next morning and I spent an amazing week in the DR!  I'm so grateful that I got to go back, spend time with old friends and visit some of my favorite places.

God is at work and continuously bringing me closer to Him, even though I can't understand it sometimes.

Dosing your pain

Grief is like a chest of drawers.

The individual drawers come in many different sizes.  

Some large. 

Some small,  and holding just a small memory.

Which drawer will you open today?

My counselor introduced me to this concept, explaining that some days you can only open a tiny drawer and feel a light memory of pain.  For me, this may be hearing a song that reminds me of my sister or wearing a sweatshirt of hers.

Some days you open a larger drawer with a stronger memory that brings you to tears. 

And some days, the grief is so strong that you pull out the entire drawer only to crawl inside for the rest of the day.

Which drawer will you open today?

Just this week I was working like normal on my computer and suddenly a song came on that reminded me of my sister.  I suddenly stopped and burst into tears.  I spent maybe an hour crying and looking at pictures of my sister.  And then just like that- it was over.  I resumed my day without a problem and like nothing had happened.  Thankfully, I was alone and had some buffer time in my day where I could do this.  That day I only needed to pull out the drawer for an hour.

The problem with grief is that you don't always have control over which drawer will be yours to open that day.

Another image to describe this idea is to 'dose your pain'.  Coined by Dr Wolfelt, a leading grief psychologist, this image simply means feeling the pain in spurts instead of the full brunt of the intensity.  He explains that sometimes you may need to distract yourself while other times you may need to make a safe place to grieve.  However, this DOES NOT mean running away from the pain! It will always be something that you have to come back to.
I love what he says here:

"To live into the future depends on my response to the reality of what I am experiencing. Temporarily, I need to create an insulation from the full force of what I am coming to know. If I felt it all at once, I might die. But feel it I must". (p. 141 in Understanding your Suicide Grief)

Learning the concept of 'dosing your pain' was huge for me!

After my sister passed away, I drowned myself in the pain and intensely exposed myself to the grief.  I thought that by doing this, I would 'get through it' at a faster rate.  But the pain was at such a constant intensity that I almost didn't survive it.

I think I was stuck in this extreme because I wanted to avoid the mistakes I made when my dad passed away.  After my dad passed away I used the coping mechanisms of avoidance.  For instance, on Father's day, I would purposefully schedule myself a 12-hour shift at work so that I wouldn't have to think about it.  Avoidance is not healthy and only hurts you in the long run.

In contrast, dosing your pain is a way that you can create a safe place to grieve when you are ready.  There are certainly times when you may need to distract yourself temporarily to ease the pain.  It's ok to protect yourself and retreat to safety when you need to.  I learned that grief is not something you can do all at once as if it were a 'To Do' checklist.  Dosing your pain is healthy alternative to both wallowing in constant despair or avoidance all together.

So what drawer will you open today?  

It's ok if you don't have the strength to open one today. 

Tomorrow is a new day.

Be kind to yourself.

Dose your pain.  

In loving memory

The anniversary of Adriana's death was last month (Oct 15) and I had been dreading it a long time beforehand.  Strangely enough, it did not hit me like I thought it would since during this week I was in and out of the ER and finally had a gallbladder surgery the day before the anniversary.  My mind was not able to process the emotional pain at the same time as the physical pain.  Plus, I was really out of it with all the pain meds!  I have finally been able to process it more little by little even though it still feels unreal at times. 

I put together some of my favorite pictures and memories of my Adrianita.  Some things that remind me of her: violins, yellow flowers, airplanes and bubble tea!

She was the genius of the family and helped work on this plane herself!

She LOVED animals and was a foster dog/cat mom

She graduated with honors with an aeronautical engineering major

This is the last picture we got together before Germany
and during my layover from Israel

One of our favorite things to do is travel! This is on our trip to Mexico.

Natalie's last picture taken before heading to Germany

One of her high school senior photos

She was Venezuelan born and raised!

One of her favorites- Venezuelan arepas!

We always played games as a family!

Artistic and crafty, she loved making ceramic/pottery art.
She also loved giving her homemade gifts to people.
When she was younger she was known for her little
teddy bears that she would sew and gift to people

Being silly as usual

We were bridesmaids in my mom's wedding.

Although suicide grief is like no other form of grief, I choose to remember Adriana through these memories instead of in the way she died. It can be difficult and painful to look through pictures and process my grief, but I know that in the end it is healing.  I don't want to be someone who runs away from the pain or looks to something other than the Lord to cope.