Welcome to your 30th year, Mercy

    I made an interesting discovery on my birthday: all thanks to my husband and one of my best friends scheming to throw me a spectacular 30th birthday party.
    Clay plotted and tried his best to keep secret that he was throwing me a 90's themed party for my birthday. I admitted to him on my birthday, (this past Sunday, the 15th) that I suspected and my  suspicions of the theme were confirmed earlier that week. (BTW...if you create a Spotify playlist and your account is linked to Facebook it will not remain a secret for long) I told him "As long as it's better than my 90's actually were, then we're set." My 90's were second to worst time in my life. First probably being '07-Feb'09.  I digress... I was nervous as all get out. Every time I had heard about the 90's, someone was commenting how backwards my adolescence was. No one could believe how little I knew, how few movies I watched. So, in college, with the help of some friends, I aggressively tried to catch up on my "lost" experiences: only to feel I constantly came up short.
   The majority of my 90's was spent steeped in depression, guilt, shame, accompanied by the overwhelming self-centered egotistical self depreciation I think most adolescents encounter. I thought I was the most hideous, dorky, gross, unlovely person ever. Additionally, my home life was riddled with drama and trauma. My mother prohibited us from being part of "the world" outside of church events. She relaxed considerably when I was out of middle school: In the meantime we would sneak and watch TV when she was at work, or we were at friend's houses.
    On my birthday, I discovered that I was cooler, by the standards of the 90's than I thought. I was taken out to Goodwill to pick out an outfit and I have an "in" style and didn't even know it. Ha! I even broke out my butterfly clips I just could not stand to part with.
    I felt like a kid again, but not with all the emotional instability of puberty. It was good. It was nice to not be called names and discover similarities in others, and connect with friends. For the longest time, I've heard many people bemoan my shelteredness. So, I discovered a lot of 90's fun in the 2000's... a little behind, but pshhh... It's more fun to have friends introduce you to their life. For the first time in a long time, I didn't feel at a disadvantage: as if my upbringing made me inferior.
   I'm 30. And I feel like an adult. I finally cherish my upbringing. Hmmm.
   When is a time that you, pleasantly, discovered you were not as _________ (fill in the blank) as you thought?

Suggestions for Helping a Grieving Friend.

In light of my most recent experience with loss I have observed how others handle another person's grief. I have made some of these mistakes in the past, and have experienced the blessings of people getting it right (at least for me). Yes, I realize everyone grieves differently. Yes, I realize everyone needs different things. I have been blessed, and also incredibly hurt on top of this grieving process. 

Kinda want to give people some heads up... Maybe address things no one else seems willing to talk about. 

This is my list of things I have discovered and ranted on over the past month.  

1- Everyone says "If there is anything I can do..." But few people actually mean it.

 I mean really mean it. Since coming home after Mom's memorial service, I had a total of four people do this well or even make an effort. 

I even attempted asking for help. I listed everything I needed help with around the house. It took a great deal of effort for that to happen. I had two responses. That is disheartening to say the least. 

If you really want to "do anything" it is so much easier on an already overwhelmed, emotionally vulnerable person if you offer specifically what you want to help with. Example. "I want to clean your house for you. Can I come over on Tuesday night?" Or even, " Are you home? I'm bringing you dinner tonight?" Don't leave it up to a grieving person to contact you for help. 

It is hard to know who you can truly depend on. The weeks after her death and the memorial service I needed just as much help, if not more, than right around the memorial.  At the service, I was surrounded by the love of people I grew up with, my friends, and my family. It's the "return to normal" where things got raw. Where love is desperately needed to be felt. Which leads me to-

2- Dont underestimate the power of a text message, or Facebook message, or just personally checking up on someone. 

It is not enough to just show a grieving person support up to or at the funeral or memorial service. 

True, some people want to just move on. But some of us get very angry that every one moves on and in a sense, forgets about us. That's what I dealt with. Not that I wanted special treatment. I just wanted acknowledgement with just a question "How are you doing?". That is a good reminder that you remember I'm going through a tough time. 

3- If you are unsure...ask!

If you don't know if I want company or need my space...ask

If you don't know if I have energy to make dinner...ask 

If you don't know if my poor husband needs a break from my processing and grief...ask

If you don't know if I want to get away from it all...ask 

This is closely related to the above rantings. 

The response I have gotten most often when I rant to my hubby about the lack of response from people has been... Most people don't even know what to do or say. All I could think was... Why don't they just ask?

When in doubt...ask. Offer. Avoid hurt feelings. 

4- Actions speak louder than words. 

Even in grief. You may have had the best of intentions, but intentions mean squat. Doing something speaks volumes. Especially in the weeks after. Heck...this is good to remember all the time. 

Ok.  I think I'm done now. 

What has been something specific and memorable that has helped you in a time of grief?

Which of my observations and rantings do you agree with or disagree with?