Escaping the Wanderlust

A few weeks ago, before COVID-19 forced social distancing upon us, I shared with my counselor my growing feelings for wanderlust.

My grandma's recent death challenged my theology. Last semester, a professor warned me that a day would come when my emotions did not match my theology, and when that day happened, I needed to sit with it. Well, I had been saying goodbye to my grandma for two years before she died at the age of 95. I did not expect to experience the level of grief I felt. My theology told me death was normal and there is nothing more stabilizing than a peaceful death in old age - and death in this life is not the end. My emotions grieved for the loss of her and my sweet Nebraska childhood which seemed to die with her.

A man at the hospital where I worked asked me out. That may not be unusual for most, but it was for me on many levels. First of all, he had to tell me several times that I was not hearing him. It turns out that I am quite perceptive when it comes to sensing the needs and emotions of others, but completely inept when it comes to myself. Had he not pushed the issue, I would have remained completely oblivious to the fact that he was asking me out, making me wonder if others have asked me out and I have totally missed it. What made this worse is that I thought I had this impenetrable wall built around me which told men "Stop", "Wrong Way", "Do Not Enter". I was/am not interested, and I assume that somehow showed. This incident shattered that and completely knocked me off my game.

This man continues to flirt, but at least now I know I am not interested and why and so does he, but this made me confront a lot of issues I thought were buried or inconsequential.

I experienced an unusual death at the hospital. Well, there was nothing unusual about the death itself, but the reaction of the emergency contact ignited a fire in me. I heard the doctor's side of the conversation, and, knowing his loved one was dying and would die if CPR ceased, still refused to come to the hospital. His lack of empathy enraged me.

Both in class and counseling, the question of why was addressed. What do you mean why? We were all bewildered and angry. "But why did it make you angry?" The more this question was asked, the more I began to realize that I was angry because it made me feel alone again and reminded me of my old fear of dying old alone - and grandma - and something my pastor once told me.

Grandma died surrounded by family. My pastor reminded me that no one ever died alone (referring to God) and that I had a church family. Sure, but I know it's not the same. I cannot think of a single person who would drop everything to spend the last hours and days with me, who would curl up with me in the bed like my aunt did with grandma, who would hold my hand until the end like grandpa did with grandma. I will be lucky to die in a hospital with caring staff like this woman, with a chaplain praying over her.  But we were all strangers.

I told my counselor the last time I felt that alone was New Year's. I got called into work that night. I was fine before, spending the new year much like many years before, watching television, curled up with Bailey, falling asleep shortly after the New York new year. I was perfectly content with that. This year, however, when it struck midnight, I was alone in my car pulling up to the hospital. Fireworks were blazing in the distance. Lights danced in windows of the hospital as shadows moved across the rooms. Everywhere, people were together as I sat alone in my car.

I've been obsessed with Tiny House trailers lately, dreaming of building one and taking it out on the road. A road trip, I told my counselor, is what I want. On top of all this, my class this semester is about loss and grief. I cannot escape it. My CPE supervisor this semester is pushing me to not just know my emotions, but discover the why behind them. It's too much. I need an emotional break. A road trip would be just the thing.

Then, she asked, "what would you do if you could not outrun or escape something?" I have no idea.

Honestly, I didn't think there was anything a good road trip couldn't solve. A trip to the beach, or a cabin in the woods, or Humphrey, Nebraska. Hit the road and go. The road works for me - brings me back to center.

Not even a week after this last counseling appointment, COVID-19 struck hard in San Antonio. The first documented case caused widespread pandemonium and it has just gotten worse. Not even Humphrey, Nebraska is immune.

I am fortunate enough to still have a job, but the problem now is that there is not stability, no normalcy, no predictability. Everything in changing so fast. And I have no control of any of it.

I was off work for two days. When I went back, so much had changed. The ER was virtually empty. Patients who did not absolutely have to be there were being discharged. Elective surgeries were cancelled. When I was leaving for the day, all the chairs were being cleared out of waiting rooms.

My job is secure for now, but new safety procedures are now in place. My heart breaks when I think of how lonely patients are going to be now that loved ones can't visit. The tension with staff is palpable. There is more need than I can give. We are needed, but we are not enough.

At the same time, I do see the wonderful hand of God in all this. It is exciting knowing and believing that He is at work in this chaos. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this is in answer to prayer for revival. What kind of good, lasting, change ever happened when things were status quo? People don't change when their worlds are smooth. I know it took divorce and cancer to change me.

Still, believing this does not remove the tension from my shoulders and unsettling in my gut. I thought I had a hard time focusing when grandma died. I'm struggling to focus on any one task even worse now.

As this all has been whirling in my mind, I think, too of my gifts and how to use them. Mostly, I have been thinking of the chaplaincy world. Those who can sing or play instruments are using their gifts - have been using them even before COVID-19. I cannot sing or play. Everything I like to do and am good at requires little or no outside influence or help - reading, writing. There is a piano in the chapel. I stare at it and daydream about how I would sit there and play for people right now if I had the ability.

Then, I thought of what I do have. I do have two books I have already written. I have never written for money - just for myself. So, I decided to bring my blog back to life - at least for however long this COVID-19 thing lasts.

This is the first (and probably only) rant. From here on out, I plan to post one chapter a day of my second novel - Life Before Me. I hope, that since I am not publishing it for profit, I will not have to worry about copyright issues (which is the big reason I have not self-published).

So, look for my book blog LIFE BEFORE ME to begin tomorrow afternoon and continue with one chapter per day - my way to give back during this season and give myself some stability.