. Tonight, Christmas night I received a phone call from my friend Bill who I’ve known and loved for many years. He called to tell me that his son, who I’ve known for twelve years was in a critical motorcycle accident and is on life support. Bill and his brother are driving down the east coast to reach his son before he crosses into spirit. They understand his injuries are beyond what he can survive.
I was stunned, and even with the grief I’ve faced I was unprepared for this painful, tragic phone call. Sean, his son is 29. I told him I would pray for them and his family. I immediately sat down and prayed for my friend and his son. I then called a minister at my church, asking her to include them in her prayers.
Sean is a good hearted young man. I met him when he was a teen, when I dated his father. He was always on the edge of adventure or trouble. He has been through some tough moments in his life, but he’s loved and treasured by his family. I spoke to him just over two months ago and he sounded just like the Sean I remembered. He was happy and doing well in his life. He had a girl friend he loved, a good job and was working hard to stay on the right path in his life.
I’m focusing my love and prayers this moment on both of them. The good of his heart and the love he he’s had for life. I am deeply saddened for his family. I know heaven is preparing for Sean’s transition and I’m hopeful his father will reach the hospital to touch him and be with him as he makes his way into spirit. I pray that his family will find the peace of God surrounding them in this painful time.
This is such a crazy time of year, one minute I feel excited and the next overwhelmed with the entire season and the zillion tasks to complete. I understand deeply the feelings of pain and loss you can face around the holidays. Even if your loss wasn’t recent the whole holiday glitz and cheer can set off reminders of our pain and the struggles we face in grief.
The thing I can suggest is …..do what you can handle. During the really rough years I did the parts of the holiday I felt I could handle and I released the others, knowing sometime in the future I would feel less pain. Don’t beat yourself up if you can’t handle the festivities and the holiday cheer. Your life has painfully changed and your perceptions are deeply altered. Allow yourself to do what you can mentally and physically handle and let the rest be for another time.
Three years ago I had a hell of a Christmas, just four months after my father died unexpectedly at age 59. I remember saying to a friend I wished I could have the holiday experience you see in the Hallmark commercial, the family in the holiday sweaters, happy, smiling with life appearing in order. Where was that experience for my family? Instead we were grieving the loss of my father taken much too young and painfully. I still dont have the perfect life with the family in the red sweaters and sometimes my life still feels deeply painful with reminders of loved ones and friends gone too soon, too young. Yet I have learned to accept where I am today and allow the pain to wash over me as it will and to go with it. Sometimes that means I cry as I drive and I change the radio for songs I used to treasure because now they are too painful to hear. Yet I’ve healed, I am making huge inroads of progress. I can feel it and I can see it. You will find it too, with time. Give yourself time and allow yourself to truly grieve your loved one. May you be filled with the peace of heavenly guidance in this season of love and spiritual renewal.
Today I’m adding an excerpt from a piece I wrote shortly after my mother’s death in the late fall of 1997.
The pain seems endless and unimaginable. My mother is gone and a more significant loss is unimaginable in this moment. Some moments are managable and others rip through my heart. Most of the time I don’t know what day it is, and I can’t remember the simplest of details. She’s been gone thirteen days. I can’t begin to imagine the rest of my life without her laughter, knowledge and phone calls. I can’t believe she wont share my most precious moments, marriage, births, jobs and the ups and downs of every day life.
I rage at the injustice of her loss. She was beautiful, healthy, vegetarian and a dedicated workout enthusiast. She died at fifty-three within ten weeks of being diagnosed with lung cancer. Her disease progressed quickly, spreading to her bones, causing her great pain. My mother was brave and unafraid. She never complained about the cancer, and she didn’t rail at the injustice of her illness as I do. I wish I had one tenth of her strength. I know she is better off in spirit, out of pain, but the pain of her physical loss is tearing me apart. My thoughts are selfish and I don’t care. I hate that I have to live without her.
Tonight I was searching online for blogs and journals on grief. I ran across the most honest, deeply touching online journal on grief I have ever seen.
One of the things I most strongly remember about the first days of my grieving process was that I tried to focus on the moment.
In the days after my mother died just getting through fifteen minutes in those first days felt like a huge accomplishment. It also helped me to survive my tremendous pain; by not looking too far into what the day might hold, or the next. If you are grieving allow yourself time, time to just sit and stare into space remembering, praying, DOING WHATEVER YOU NEED. Ask for help. I know I didn’t always feel like it; yet calling someone who understands really makes the difference.
I can distinctly remember the hours I spent talking to my friend Tammy. She saved me; she allowed me to rage, and I did. I was filled with so much anger over my mother’s death and over the situations I was facing. She was kind enough to allow me to get it out. Even now nearly ten years later; thinking of those conversations makes me cry. She was a god send to me. Find a Tammy in your life; that person will make all the difference to your grieving and your sanity.
Sometimes grief is not only from a death. Sometimes grief comes with the loss of a relationship or the realization that a relationship is changing and you’re at a cross roads where you have to determine whether you can heal a relationship or whether it will end. It wont be the same depth of grief, yet it will be a grieving process just the same.
A Year by the Sea
is a thought provoking book about the transformations a woman goes through in her life. Joan and her husband are at a crossroads when they separate with him taking a promotion in a different part of the country and Joan moving into their summer cottage on Cape Cod. The book details the journey of Joan’s life during the year she lives at Cape Cod and the transitions she makes personally and within her relationship with her husband.
I felt this was an excellent autobiography for anyone contemplating their own life transitions or transformations. It was moving, realistic and thought provoking. She has written one or two others since this one.
This is the true story of a minister’s experience
when his car is hit by a semi on a bridge.
He is pronouced dead atthe scene
by two paramedics.
The book details his ninety minutes in heaven
before the paramedics realize he has returned to life
after covering his body and leaving it
for an hour and a half at the accident scene
as they dealt with other issues related to the accident.
This is truly an amazing and inspiring book.
For those who are grieving or questioning
what happens when we die this is a beautiful book to read.
Nearly a year before my mom even knew she had cancer
she began keeping a journal for me. In it she put her thoughts,
ideas and motherly advice. Along with that she placed this quote
that she had cut from a newspaper. I found it after her death.
It is a comforting quote. I don’t know who to attribute it to,
but it is lovely.
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow;
I am the diamond glints on the snow,
I am the sunlight on ripened grain;
I am the gentle autumn’s rain.
When you awaken in the mornings hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star that shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there I did not die.”
This hasn’t been my best day.
I opened a Christmas card from my ex mother-in-law and read her sad news.
She has struggled through breast cancer for some number of years
and in her card she told me that they have now found cancer in her brain.
Even from her hand writing I could tell that things are not good.
I was deeply saddened.Along with that she shared news of my ex
husband. Memories of him feel like several life times ago.
He was diagnosed with MS some years after our divorce.
She said his MS has progressed. Though we no longer have
any relationship or contact I was saddened for him and for his loved ones.
I know way too many people who’ve battled cancer; and terminal illness.
Some are now survivors and others like my parents have passed on.
It’s very sad and because of my own experiences with loss, I’m deeply saddened
for what this means to both their lives and the lives of their loved ones.
It makes any grumbles I had about my day seem trivial.
Yet what should our goal be for any day of our life?
How do we make our day the best we can, the most fulfilling to our life purpose
when we have tasks to complete that certainly aren’t always enjoyable
or pleasant? How do we create time that is really sacred, joyful and purposeful
between the tasks we feel must be completed?
I came across a quote this afternoon
that I thought would be appropriate
due to the nature of the news I heard today.
This quote comes from Ladies Home Journal, April 05.
We have to overcome fantasies that life is somehow
supposed to be in our control and that we are
at fault when we are not.
May we find the peace in our hearts to accept
what comes into each of our days.
The best to each of you
As a survivor of grief I can assure you that you will hear
comments that will make you shake your head. People care deeply;
they just don’t always know the right thing to say….
and in the absence of the right thing to say…
THEY SOMETIMES SAY THE WRONG THING!
Things people said after my daughter died of a premature birth
in Dec of 1987.
Gee Jane (my mother’s name) you seem so depressed lately.
(Honestly I had to shake my head.)
Your young, you’ll have other children.
(AS IF that would take away the grief of losing my daughter Sydney….)
During my grief a few people who were usually
very close to me backed off. This was very disheartening to me,
yet what I eventually understood was that the grief was hitting
home for them; either it brought up their own sad memories and
they needed time to adjust or they werent comfortable with grief
and weren’t sure what to say.
I also got to know people who connected with
my grief. They stepped forward to offer support, when I didn’t
know them well. They were colleagues or aquaintances, yet they
offered real support in a moment of eye contact and a hug. In that
connection I could see clearly that they REALLY GOT IT;
THEY TRULY UNDERSTOOD. They too had felt this pain.
It’s the multitude of small moments;
the love really; that will help you begin to heal.
There are days when the pain is endless;
yet there are days when you will notice the sun shining or a flower
blooming and for a brief second you will smile. Hold tight to
that moment. There will be more as you heal and they will come
more often; rather than endlessly far between as you feel now.
In my darkest days when I felt that my grief and the painful loss
of my mother might kill me I prayed that God would guide me
and support me. Sometimes I still felt just as alone,
yet now…in my healing I understand he was there with me,
guiding me through the worst of the raw unending pain.
Trust that you are loved and supported.
Expect the pain to be with you for a very long time,
MUCH longer than you want it to be. You have to go through AND grow through the pain.
The person whose loss you are grieving has been and remains
an important part of your life. You loved them,
much as I loved my mother.
It has taken me years to really accept her loss
and even now; just over nine years after her death
I still miss her and wish I could talk to her in person
for even just one more day.
With time your pain is less. I’m now able to focus
more on the good memories and the love.
There are moment that will always remain painful.
Moments that I can never share with my mother,
the birth of a child, the beginning of a new relationship,
a new home. But with time you’ll find peace
and some semblence of acceptance.
Be kind to yourself; and take time for you.
Realize grief comes in phases
and you will feel differently every single day.
A wonderful way to create a peaceful shower
takes only two simple elements. A bottle of your favorite
essential oil and a shower plug to hold water. Essential oils
can be purchased in nearly any organic or health food store.
Simply allow the shower to heat up and the steam to
begin flowing. Then drop approximately five or six drops
of essential oil into the water flow. These drops of essential oil
will scent the entire shower area and give you a lift of calm
and comfort. Allow the shower plug to remain in for a few minutes
to give you the longest benefit of the natural essential oil
you chose. Remember not to allow the essential oil to touch
your skin undiluted. Mixed with water, lotion or massage oil
it’s wonderful!
Welcome to Healing Through Love. I want this site to be a place of healing.
A place to give you inspiration, a good laugh, kindness,
and the support of someone whose been through
the grieving process and can speak with compassion and love.
Tonight, Christmas night I received a phone call from my friend Bill who I’ve known and loved for many years. He called to tell me that his son, who I’ve known for twelve years was in a critical motorcycle accident and is on life support. Bill and his brother are driving down the east coast to reach his son before he crosses into spirit. They understand his injuries are beyond what he can survive.
Healing Through Love 