2022 learnings + epiphanies: the year that was

I typically draft and publish this post before the close of the year with a long, laundry list of things I learned about myself and others. It’s quirky. It’s sarcastic. It’s authentic. And, it’s a nice summary of self growth and truisms about aging gracefully. (not just the physical kind)

And if you’re new here, you can read my 2021 learnings here. It’s an annual thing!

It was very difficult for me to draft this post so instead I just ignored it. And here we are in February 2023! It’s very unlike me to ignore. I am habitual in nature. 100% reliable in nature. This one felt very different because last year was very different. And in hindsight, it was the first time in my life that I can recognize that I was depressed and my mental health was not good. I usually bounce back fast. I am an eternal optimist, glass half full kinda gal. Today I write this and I feel like myself…rosy outlook and all BUT I had to do the work. I had to set even greater boundaries and be extremely choosy with how and who I spent time with. This is what happened…

The year started off great. (spoiler alert: you aren’t getting a list this year) Work was busy, kids were thriving. Jack had a minor procedure that was outpatient surgery. He was A-OK. In fact, I remember it like yesterday. I waited and then drove him home from the hospital. No sooner had I waved goodbye to my MIL, who had picked up the kids from school, when I received a call from my dad. I ignored it because I was trying to get my husband situated in bed and comfortable, meanwhile the kids were rummaging through the pantry looking for after-school snacks. It was an almost typical day.

When I came down to the kitchen I checked my phone briefly knowing that my dad probably called to see how Jack was post-surgery. I saw a missed call notification and a text from him and it read the following, “Mom has cancer.” The rest is slow motion. I was in disbelief. I knew she had gone for her routine exams and they saw something but we also have dense breast tissue in our family so this was status quo for us.

I remember Lola was in the kitchen and being the ultra observant child that she was, her face registered my emotions and was immediately asking what was wrong. I called my dad and he confirmed that my mom had breast cancer. It just was such a shock. Knowing my tendencies, I felt a wave of guilt that I should have been there, done more, planned more visits with the kids. All of it. I sobbed in the kitchen with my kids hugging my waist feeling all of the uncertainty and about a gajillion questions. Meanwhile, poor Jack was bedridden and wondering what the hell was going on. This was April.

By June, my mom had completed radiation without a drip of chemotherapy. They had removed the growth completely and had pronounced her cancer free. All she had to do was take a pill daily for the next six years and schedule routine exams. To say it wrapped up that quickly is not a lie. She received the best possible scenario given that it was a hormone related breast cancer vs. invasive, metastatic breast cancer. I believe someone was looking down on her, 100%.

Fast forward through a busy summer of camp, neighborhood fun and a fantastic family trip to HHI before school started. We rented a cozy home that afforded us a 3-minute walk to the beach. HHI is my happy place, officially, except Ground Hog day once more. My dad called and left me a message. We were just finishing up breakfast so I decided to call him back. He shared that my 102 year old grandma, Anita, was not doing well. She lived with them for the last decade but she truly needed 24/7 care. That June they placed her in a home so that she could have more of a social life and get round-the-clock care. She was on oxygen, prone to bronchitis and pneumonia, and overall, she was aging and they were concerned that she could fall when they weren’t home. Back to the story, I didn’t “need” to come home but I did need to see Anita when I got back. My father predicted that she wouldn’t make it past August. He was almost right.

I returned home and drove out to see her on a Monday. Thankfully, after you read this long post, you will realize I have zero regrets and that is the only saving grace of my grandma passing away on 9/21/22. She was on the brink of turning 103. I saw her at the home and then once again at the hospital. I sat there for two hours; she was completely coherent but tired with labored breathing. It was almost as if God wanted to give me one last memory with her completely filter free of grief or illness. We sat and talked. We watched The Price is Right. She knew and I knew. She left us two days later.

From September through December, I was devastated, antsy, grieving and frustrated. I had been living on egg shells for almost an entire year. I had zero motivation for anything. I cried almost everyday since she passed away. Now I only cry every couple of weeks so that’s an improvement! The funny thing about mental health is you don’t know you are going through it until you look back. I was an impatient mother, a snappy wife and a really sad person.

For NYE, our little family went up to Lake Geneva for three nights just to get away. Things started to shift. I closed the book of grief. I decided to abstain from drinking. I went at my own pace. I didn’t make resolutions. I didn’t put pressure on myself to set revenue goals for my agency. I decided to just be and whatever I worked on would be enough in 2023. I took the pressure off of myself to be everything to everyone. Whatever I did was more than good enough. It was the best I could do. That was my motto.

Today it’s February 1, 2023. I am still reminding myself to take things one day at a time. To stop beating myself up. I close my computer earlier. I go to bed earlier. I respond to texts and DMs the next day. I post less. And I adopted my friend’s “ick test.” Every week I look at my calendar. If there is something that makes me feel icky that I don’t want to do…I cancel it. I only pursue things that bring me joy. Thank you Christina Glickman. This is a very watered down version of my new mindset but you get the gist.

So what did I learn in 2022? I learned that grief is a journey. I learned just how short life really is. I learned that my grandma had it all right…she ate the bacon, drank the coffee, ate the sweets. I learned that your health should never be ignored. And I re-learned that I should always trust my gut. Never skip a moment with your loved ones. I would drop everything for one more Price is Right episode with my grandma. And I am so thankful that my mother is a breast cancer survivor.

As for 2023…I am thankful. I am present. And I am clear on what I want life to look like in the coming years. Slower, reflective and present.