If this picture could talk! This was how my teen daughter, nephew, sister, and I spent Good Friday. My sister and nephew now live in what was our mom’s home, and it is 300 miles from my house. When we discussed Easter, we knew one thing—we wanted to do everything as opposite from tradition as possible.
Plans started with them coming to Ohio instead of us traveling to Upstate NY. We decided to kick our long weekend off by visiting Fits of Fury, a rage room type experience at a nearby mall.
When our mom first became ill last September and one minute the doctors are preparing for her to pass, only for them to come in and talk discharge, and that bounced back and forth for weeks, we were fatigued in every level. We sure didn’t want her to pass, but the toll of saying goodbye and mentally preparing for it is excruciating. Then she was home and we were caregiving her through months where her pain level was heartbreaking. She received a diagnosis of h.pylori and that addressed the pain, yet other challenging things were happening. Just when she rebounded and was basically back to her old self driving, shopping, getting her haircut—she was gone. Just like that.
I don’t care how strong your faith is, that roller coaster will mess you up.—Julie Arduini
I’m no exception. When I entered that room with carefully chosen plates, glasses, mugs, and even a hard drive and monitor, I thought about 2020 and these last months. I was separated from my husband and kids for almost nine weeks. I missed out knowing the daily in their lives and it was only when I returned did I realize what a huge impact that was for all of us. Certainly none of us regret my leaving to stay with mom, but it was a hard, hard time.
My sister eyed the glass as a daughter, a single mom, and a teacher. Through all of these months she had to pack her son up and drop him off different places because of remote learning. She was expected to be ready for anything as a teacher with news changing last minute and resources rarely at her disposal because of protocol. She was there when mom fell ill and needed transport and again, because of protocol, wasn’t allowed to join her. We never saw mom again.
We had the choice of a hammer, sledgehammer, baseball bat and golf clubs to use on these items. We wore protective gear and took turns. Sometimes just hurling it against the wall was enough.
For me, I found the most damage—and healing—came from the golf club. Although actual golf is my husband’s game, I had no trouble picking up that club and taking a swing. Once things shattered, I hit again and again to take those big pieces down to slivers.
It felt good.
Obviously this experience is not the same as a counseling session, a time of prayer, or anything that can be classified as therapy. Yet, it was therapeutic if that makes sense. My nephew showcased a powerful swing with the bat and it helped him get some pent up emotions out. I know I felt the same way.
Days later I had to drive mom’s car from NY to Ohio where my son and his fiancee will use it. The emotions that spilled out as I drove it across state lines surprised me, and I honestly would have done near anything to trade that drive for a return to the rage room. I sobbed, and just depleted myself of words and tears.
When I arrived home and cried some more as I unpacked her things, I focused on much needed sleep, but ran to His word. The Bible is my comfort and guide and when it’s extra busy, I miss the reading plans I have in place. I couldn’t wait to get back to it. It is in the Psalms, and the prophets where my plans have me that are helping me heal.
But if you want affordable entertainment where you can swing out some frustration, I definitely recommend the experience. For maximum damage, use the golf club!
In the picture we were supposed to give angry faces. My sister and I were so excited to be there we just look goofy. But the younger ones, they gave a great game face!