5. grieving and smiling
while the sun is shining ☀️
Hi friends!
Happy May! May seems like such a beautiful month—with her sunshine enticing us, beckoning us to spend more time in the outdoors. This month we embarked on some “firsts” with Emma in the outdoors by going strawberry picking and backyard camping. Experiencing the world in this new way through the eyes of a toddler seems like such a precious gift.
Hope this month is bringing you a sense of newness in your life too!
grieving dynamically
After experiencing Emma’s traumatic accident, I had a difficult time processing my grief or even verbalizing it. My dear friend Hannah sent me this podcast called Healing the Heart and it was, unbeknownst to me, exactly what I needed. This podcast offered a language and a framework to understand what I was going through, going beyond the conventional, “you seem to be in the denial/angry/depressed stage.”
A term that stood out to me was—grief ambush.
Emotions and thoughts just flood you and there is no way to prepare for, or anticipate their ambush. I’ve certainly experienced this, and I’ve witnessed it in David as well. David would break down in the middle of his work day when a song we listened to at the hospital started playing.
I also learned of a new framework for understanding grief as a process. The Dual Process Model of Grief postulates that we oscillate between approaching our grief and withdrawing from it. When we approach our grief, we focus on the loss by reminiscing, crying, imagining, yearning. Conversely when we withdraw, we orient ourselves on rest and recovery and ask ourselves the question, “who am I now and how will I live going forward?”
This model makes sense to me and aligns with my current experience so it felt so liberating to come across it. I was asked recently why it seemed like I was not as bothered by what happened, and why I don’t seem “more sad.” This made me reflect on my grieving process and how I approach my grief in private (usually driving alone in the car) and withdraw and focus on moving forward when I am with others, even with close family and friends. This process is so dynamic and though others may see only withdrawal, I know in those quiet moments that I feel the depth and intensity of approaching my grief too.
I am almost scared to ask, but have you experienced grief in this dynamic, oscillating way?
kinkeeping made visible
Have you read the recent article about kinkeeping in the NYT?
Kinkeeping is defined as an often invisible form of labor that is dedicated to family bonding and promoting the overall well-being of the family. Some everyday examples are: sending in-laws cards and presents for their birthdays, making sure meals are prepared in time, packing the diaper bag with all the necessary essentials, scheduling medical appointments…
Lately I feel swallowed up by the daunting amount of tasks involved in kinkeeping. I feel like I’m not the only one—recently I attended small group where we (the wives) shared about the invisible labor we do on a daily basis and felt disheartened by the heaviness of it.
Even in the photo above, pictured is hubby enjoying strawberry picking with his beloved daughter but behind the scenes was this kinkeeper planning the trip for after Emma’s nap time, requesting to fill up gas to be prepared, bringing the portable potty and packing 5 pairs of emergency pants, and sending said photo to both sets of grandparents for them to enjoy.
Who are the kinkeepers in your family?
The article states that kinkeeping is often thankless work and to prevent burnout, family members can also partake in kinkeeping tasks and express gratitude. Since kinkeeping tasks are often done behind the scenes, I have been putting an effort to make these tasks visible. Visibility—not to show off the sheer volume of work or be passive aggressive, but to invite family members to join in the meaningful work of fostering deep family connection. This connection often necessitates many interconnected, seemingly small tasks which can be shared and enjoyed!
I also love that there is a word to describe the collective experience of kinkeeping and hope that we can all strive to be joyful kinkeepers in our families.
battling parkinson’s law
I’ve been thinking about Parkinson’s law (“work expands so as to fill the time available for its completion”) a lot lately, as I often give myself ample time to figure things out and accomplish tasks. What’s interesting is that not only does the work expand, but the complexity of the original task expands too, as it becomes more onerous, taxing, and anxiety-provoking with more time.
I’ve been trying to battle this phenomenon by using my favorite visual tool, the time timer while David uses the pomodoro technique. I’m also learning to break down tasks, assign more realistic deadlines, and prioritize tasks (while forgetting about others). Though these steps are well-known and basic, I’ve come to honestly realize that I don’t know how to do it effectively and need to slow down, assess, and re-assess.
It’s fun experimenting with different techniques to find what works in this season—especially with a two year old who longs for more of my time and presence.
How do you battle Parkinson’s law? If a technique/tool/mindset works for you, please share with me or leave a comment!
may Park fam favorites 👧🏻👩🏻👦🏻:
Emma: Collecting little 돌맹이s/pebbles in our neighborhood, peeing independently in her little potty, summer play dates 🪨
Bomi: matcha lattes (a friend dropped it off after a tough week of battling sickness and potty training and wow, I am in love!), seeing Emma’s diaper-less bum, finally putting Emma’s hair into the tiniest pigtails. 👧🏻
David: strawberry picking and weekend excursions, recent advancements in AI research ✨