Giving Comfort

Yesterday was a snow day in Washington, DC with the local and federal governments shut down and people resigning themselves to once again bundle up and go out and shove and clear their cars of winter's one two punch: ice and snow.

 

Before I braved the outdoors, I indulgently hung out in my pajamas and worked on the computer, answering emails and checking out Twitter for Oscar gossip.  I also made use of my snow day by tackling a large stack of magazines in my home office and in hopes of ridding myself of some unnecessary clutter.

 

I came upon an old 2007 Town & Country magazine which featured a special section on grieving.  Ah! This must be the reason why I had saved this issue I said to myself.  I remember being surprised at the time that I bought the magazine that Town & Country was tackling such an uncomfortable subject since most of its articles are about lighter subjects such as traveling, beauty and celebrity trends.  But in this particular issue, I found an informative and insightful section on dealing with grief.

 

 

 A column about grief and loss titled "How To Comfort" by Kate Lardner popped out for me upon rereading the section.  Here are a few to consider:

 

-- "We live in a culture that is afraid of illness and death.  There's judgment from every direction, and it slows down the healing process.  Trust your own experience, and be with people who aren't telling you  to pull yourself together." ~ Cynthia O'Neal, cofounder of Friends in Deed, a crisis center in New York City.

 

-- "I was terrified of my sons' impending deaths from AIDS.  What helped the most when they were dying was to do whatever I could to open up my heart, instead of shutting off from the fear of the anticipated loss.  I talked to mothers in hospitals who were visiting sons with AIDS." ~ Brenda Freiberg, chair emeritus, AIDS Project, Los Angeles.

 

-- "Be with a grieving person quietly, and offer the stability of your presence, which is not the same as trying to 'make it better.'  Much more important for the bereaved is to feel the actual loss in the moment.  Human beings are amazingly resilient; we think we won't be able to survive, but we will.  Grief, the hurt, is a good sign." ~ Acharya Eric Spiegel, a Buddhist teacher in New York City.

 

-- "Think twice before telling anyone that they ever get over the loss of somebody close; on a feeling level you never truly get over it." ~ Sanford Pepper, M.D. San Francisco psychiatrist.

The Notebook

I never know when I am going to read or hear something that I might want to use in writing a future blog post so I try to always carry a small notebook with me.  On the times that I have forgotten my notebook, I have written notes on the back of envelopes, cocktail napkins and business cards which then creates this messy pile of stray notes.

For now, the small spiral notebook I am using is almost full and it caused me recently to flip through the worn pages to check and see if I had missed anything that might be helpful to myself and others who are trying to rebuild their lives after a loss or strengthen their resilience when facing life's unexpected trials.

 

 

And then there it was.  Handwritten notes from a sweet conversation I had this past summer on the beach with a young woman in her twenties.  She had lost her grandfather and an uncle within a few months of each other.  We had just met and were casually talking about ourselves.  I told her about Cry, Laugh, Heal and surprisingly she then began telling me about her experiences with loss.

 

I write about this conversation today after so many months because I was struck by the common thread in her thoughts and the fact that if I closed my eyes and forgot about her age she could have been a member of my support group made up of people much older than herself.  She was voicing many of the same feelings older people have expressed after losing a loved one:  the need to talk, the shock and confusion and the contradictions brought by the pain of loss.

"People know you are going through an awful time of it and yet they talk to you as though nothing has happened," she said remarking on what it was like to go back to school after attending the funerals.  "I think people react this way because it's far too messy for them and they also think they're upsetting you.  And they definitely don't think about how you might want to cry and release your feelings."

She continued talking quietly about this experience and said after a period of time following the losses she knew she needed to be part of a  trusted discussion addressing grief issues.  The loss of her uncle and her grandfather made her realize that she needed to join a support group and she was so glad that she did.  She wasn't sure what she would find or what it would be like, but she came away surprised and also curious about the amazing dynamic that had occurred in her group.

"Isn't it weird how you can find yourself in a support group, among people who you have never met before, people who are strangers, and you start speaking honestly from your heart about how you really feel and what you are really thinking about.  I found that I was saying things to strangers that I couldn't tell my loved ones, the people who have known me for most of my life.  And for some reason the other people in my group felt that way too.  And it worked.  I felt I was with new friends."

Our discussion about life and loss was not for long; I would say at the most it was about 10 to 15 minutes.  But within that short window of time while we talked, I felt her willingness to expose her vulnerability on the contradictions of these grizzly subjects of loss and resilience was amazing.

 

Here's why:  in her young soul she had dug deep and found strength in a truth that sometimes takes many of us (myself included) a life time to discover.  That truth? 

 

Her words say it best: "Sometimes beauty comes out of pain.  I found that something good can come out of something tragic and that's hard for people to understand.  I think people are afraid to say something good came out of someone's death because we are afraid it would be seen as though we were glad that it happened when of course that is not the truth at all.  No one, no one wants anyone to feel that pain but it's surprising to discover that a light can come out of darkness."

A Broken Christmas Ritual

I can't tell you why but for the first time in many years, I didn't place a Christmas wreath on my husband's marker at the cemetery.

 

I thought about it.  I was going to do it.  But then I never did get around to it.

 

I'm hoping that this doesn't make me a bad person.

I'm really hoping it just makes me a conflicted human being dealing with life the best way I know.

Every Christmas since he died 10 years ago, I have made a personal ceremony out of placing a large Christmas wreath with a big red bow on his grave.  It was a healing ritual that made me feel good and I thought it also was a ritual that would let him know that I had not forgotten about him at Christmas.

 

But this year it all felt very different.  I couldn't bring myself to buy the wreath and take it to his grave.  I didn't want to drive my car anywhere near the cemetery. 

I don't understand it but I think it has something to do with the trickery of grief.; how you think you are on solid footing and then you're not.  I used to emotionally bounce all over the place in my new grief of the first few years and since then, I have been working hard to go forward with my life, stay positive and embrace happiness.  Yet my feelings shifted this Christmas.  Out of nowhere, a powerful surge of conflicting emotions washed over me.  I have to say that having this happen is truly a bummer because I don't like being sucked back into those feelings again.

Honestly, I think one reason I couldn't go near the cemetery is I just get tired of grieving and missing him and reminiscing and being the widow.  I find it hard now to think of my husband actually occupying the physical space that makes up his grave and to me it's more likely that he, as a spiritual being, hangs out wherever he wants with whom ever he wants anytime that he wants.

  

Still, my inner voice says to me that it was almost as if I was annoyed that he wasn't here this Christmas!!  You would think I would have felt this way the first Christmas after he died instead of the tenth Christmas!

But grief isn't linear and it certainly isn't logical right?
 

Nelson Mandela

Rest In Peace Nelson Mandela

For you used your precious life and your healing nature to change the world

and make it a much better place for generations to come. 

Education is the most powerful weapon we can use to change the world.

 

                            ~ Nelson Mandela

Cleaning Your Soul

I know this is going to sound very old school but I'm going to come out with it anyway: sometimes if I want to feel better, I pull out the cleaning supplies and take a room apart.

I fill a pan with hot soapy water, gather some rags and a few spray cleaners and I then I go for it!

Over the weekend, I did this to my kitchen because something about the change in seasons was in the air and I looked around and thought I would feel better if I could clean away some of the dirt and also toss out some unused or broken items taking up space.



My Healing Tools

Everybody has dirt in the place where they live whether they admit it or not.  It's just what happens while you are living life; especially in a room made for cooking and preparing food.

From the ceiling to the baseboards and all those little spaces in between where you don't see the dirt until you are on a stepladder and up close and personal with it, I felt productive.  Cleaning is physical work and exercise produces endorphins -- those natural chemicals in the brain that are responsible for creating good moods.

As I wiped down the kitchen walls and physically cleaned the knobs of the appliances and other things hanging on the walls, I lost myself in the motion of it and that was a good thing.  I could feel that I was getting rid of some of the stresses of the work week by wiping and vacuuming and squeezing out those rags in the water over and over again.

Rather than waiting for change in your life, you can be the agent of change!

The simple act of moving furniture around or cleaning your kitchen or reorganizing your closet can freshen your attitude.  Think of how much time you spend in your house and how much it means to you.  It's your haven.  Your comfort zone.

When you decide to change your environment, you make it different.  Let go of the way a room used to be arranged and try it the way you want.  Even if you clean a room and put everything back exactly where it was, it still looks different because it sparkles and feels fresher.

In cleaning, you are simplifying your space, getting rid of what you don't want.

You may think that cleaning is gross -- and it can be -- but it's also about changing up your living space, the special place where you and your inner spirit live.

Bananarama

I left a couple of bananas on my kitchen counter the other day and the current heat and humidity in Washington, DC ripened them so fast that in two days they were too mushy for my cereal.  I'm not one to throw food away, so I found my trusty banana bread recipe and baked them into golden goodness!

 

This banana bread recipe below is from Martha Stewart's best-selling book, Entertaining, and I highly recommend making it and having it on hand for a quick breakfast.  I once tried the recipe as muffins and they were okay but the recipe is more delicious cooked in a loaf pan as bread.

 

 

 

When you are grieving, or under a lot of stress, it is so important for you to begin the day with breakfast.  Even if you find you have temporarily lost your appetite, this banana bread, perhaps with some yogurt, is easy to digest.  Bananas are high in potassium which is important in regulating blood pressure and keeping your muscles healthy.  Plus bananas are low in calories.

We can't stop life from handing us tough emotional times but we can control what we do for ourselves.

 

You may be having trouble sleeping or finding it hard to concentrate for long periods of times.  A balanced diet, rest, and moderate exercise could help to give you some structure and guide you towards slowly processing your raw emotions.  It is not a small thing to take care of yourself and learn how to keep yourself on a healthy track.

 

I hope you like this bread as much as my son and I do:

 

Martha Stewart's Banana Bread

 

1 large loaf or 4 small loaves

 

1/2 cup butter, at room temperature

1 cup sugar (I use less sugar, sometimes almost halving the amount)

2 eggs

1 1/2 cups unbleached flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

1 cup mashed very ripe bananas (usually 2)

1/2 cup sour cream (I use low fat)

1 teaspoon vanilla

1/2 cup pecans or walnuts (these are optional; I leave them out)

 

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

 

Cream butter, sugar and eggs.

 

Sift the dry ingredients and combine with the butter mixture.

Blend well.  Add the bananas, sour cream and vanilla; stir well.

Stir in the nuts if you wish and pour into a well buttered 9 x 5 x 3-inch loaf pan or several smaller pans.

 

Bake 1 hour.  Turn out onto a rack to cool.

 

Monkey Bars

Yesterday I wrote about one small aspect of holding on to a deceased loved one's material things for a long time.  It's a rather large emotional minefield of an issue but if you ride along with me for a bit more today maybe we can make some progress together and get on with it.

 

Let's be real:  nobody wants to hurt and nobody wants to feel pain.  It's in our DNA to try and protect ourselves and so we naturally want to run away from pain and suffering; even sometimes to deny its existence.  I think this is one of the main reasons why painful issues hang around for so long and aren't resolved quickly.  They just plain hurt.

Unfortunately, I know this for sure:  you are only delaying the inevitable.  At some point, you're going to have to feel the hurt and pain to get to the other side which actually can be very freeing.  This time around for me, it was a jar of Ovaltine, but it could be anything the next time: a possession, a feeling, a person or even a situation.

I think it's almost similiar to that feeling you may have had as a child while working your way across the metal monkey bars on the school playground.  You notice I said metal.  I'm old enough that those playground structures like monkey bars were made of metal so when you put your hands on them they were either blistering cold in the winter or burning hot in the summer.

 

 

While hanging from the bars and trying to swing my body back and forth, I knew I was in safe territory as I slowly but surely moved forward to the other side.  It was familiar and all I wanted to do was reach the other side and let go.  And then there were those times when I would miscalculate and I would get tired and be hanging somewhere in the middle.  "Oh no," I would think, "I'm almost over to the other side.  I don't want to drop and fall to the ground."  The ground seemed so far away and I didn't want to release my hands from the bars as much as my arms and hands might hurt.  I wanted to stay on the bars.

 

It's the same with being hooked on a comforting feeling that a possession, a person or a situation can give you.  You've convinced yourself that everything will be okay if you have that possession, person or are in that set of circumstances.  It helps you ride through the pain, at least for awhile. 

 

For me, pieces of paper with my husband's writing on it were comforting.  It didn't matter what he had written.  It was just the quick glance at his distinctive handwriting that would make me feel better, as though he had just handed them to me.  I would fold them and put them in my purse, pin them on the bulletin board behind my computer at home and generally just leave them lying around. 

 

Then one day, and I would say it took about a year for me to feel this way, I started to actually read the papers and really look at them and I realized that keeping all these papers was getting to be messy; that keeping one or two significant handwritten notes was enough and I could toss the rest in the trash.  The papers were getting in the way of moving forward.

 

The process of learning to let go happens at a different pace for all of us.  Sometimes we move quickly through anger or frustration and slowly through anxiety or it can be the other way around for another person.  We are all different in our ways of handling and expressing grief.

 

Just as we work our way across the monkey bars one by one, we work our way slowly but surely through the grief process, step by step, beginning to heal and feeling oh so much stronger as we reach the other side.

KissyFace

The picture posted on the Facebook page shows a CD leaning against a car dashboard with the following handwritten message written with a Sharpie:  "To KissyFace - From Your Number #1 Fan."

 

On a different Facebook page, a male friend enthusiastically writes about a recent Washington Nationals baseball game, what the score was and the important plays of the game.  He then ends his post by saying how much he misses his friend.  On the same page, a different friend posts a story that was in that day's newspaper and says, "I know you would like this story.  It's your kind of reporting."

 

These Facebook pages belong to people who have died but that doesn't matter to the people who knew and loved them best.

They continue to connect with the person's page by posting pictures, comments, messages and stories and continue to do so because it helps them feel connected to their friend or loved one.  It helps them heal. 

These postings represent the sorts of things they would be talking about to this person, if they were still alive.  They continue to post on the person's page because they don't want to let go of the relationship they had with this person and posting on their page almost feels as though the person at some point will actually read it.

 

The posts are tributes, in a way, to feelings of friendship, memories of good times and the camaraderie of people who share the same sense of humor or the same interests in life.  Those thoughts that immediately pop into your head when you see or hear something you know the other person would love to know about.

 

You can't help it.  Even now, nine years after my husband's death, when I see something in the newspaper or on television, or I run into a person I haven't seen for awhile, I think to myself, "I've got to tell Tommy."  But then I realize I can't, so sometimes I just say it out loud to myself.

 

My husband died before Facebook ever came to be so I am not faced with the question of whether to delete his Facebook page or not.  I probably would let it stay up because I think I would find it comforting to log on and read what others have written or write something myself.

 

 For those who feel it is too painful and want their loved one's Facebook pages gone, here is a helpful story that Liz Crenshaw, NBC Channel 4's consumer reporter did on how to delete a deceased person's Facebook page.

 

http://www.nbcwashington.com/news/local/How-to-Delete-a-Deceased-Loved-Ones-Facebook-Page-211885391.html?_osource=SocialFlowTwt_DCBrand

Blessed Easter

Have A Blessed Easter

"Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are they who mourn,
for they shall be comforted.

Blessed are the meek,
for they shall inherit the earth.

Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they shall be satisfied.

Blessed are the merciful,
for they shall obtain mercy.

Blessed are the pure of heart,
for they shall see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they shall be called children of God.

Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."

Gospel of St. Matthew 5:3-10

Making A New Bedroom

On the weekends, I like to try and organize myself.

Sometimes I succeed in my de-clutter efforts and sometimes I don't.  During the work week, I have a very bad habit of throwing clothes and papers into piles.  By the time the weekend rolls around, I know I have to deal with the piles and hang stuff up and throw things away.

 

This past weekend marked a milestone for me because I just had my bedroom painted and most of the stuff that was under my bed,  hanging on wall and door hooks and on top of my furniture was in another room.

Just typing that sentence is a big deal.  It's my bedroom; not our bedroom.  I am taking a big leap by changing the room and making it look different than it did when my husband was alive.  Not that the room looked all that great when my husband was alive but it was ours and it was comfortable.

 

This was my opportunity to practice what I am always writing about: to embrace your life and move forward.

I was going to paint the room myself last summer but something always seemed to happen and I never got around to it.  Other rooms in the house have changed since my husband's death but this one has remained essentially the same.  I enter the room but I never really look at it or spend any time in it.  I usually go to my bedroom when it's time to sleep or change my clothes but I don't go there to hang out and say, read a book, or talk on the phone because there are too many memories there.

 

Now, nine years later, after all this time, I finally realized I had to make it a different room.  Otherwise, it would always be "our" room and that would be rather silly since my husband died.  I didn't even put any of my clothes in the drawers on the other side of the bureau because those once belonged to him.  It didn't feel right putting my things in his drawers.  But last year, I slowly started taking over all the drawers (it felt weird at first) and I must admit I am thankful for the extra space.

It was a gradual decision to change the room.  Over the past year, I found it was getting be a real downer to be in the room because here I was trying hard to rebuild my life and move forward yet when I came into my bedroom it was stuck in time.  I had flashbacks to our time together and I loved the memories, yet I knew that I would still have the memories even if I painted the room, bought a new bedspread and pillows and moved the furniture around.

Of course, this didn't come to me all at once.  It took awhile for me to push myself to do this.

Even though it was hard to do, I am now glad, and actually sort of relieved, that I am changing my bedroom because now it feels fresh and renewed.  It's okay to give yourself as much time as you need to feel comfortable with whatever changes you make in your life after you lose a loved one.  You know how it feels and you know when you are ready to think about your life in a different way.

It's not sad to change.   It just means that I am taking what has happened to me and learning how to blend it into my present life in a positive way.  I'm not leaving my husband behind because that's not possible. 

But I've come to the point where I realize it's okay to make new memories for myself.
 

Happy Talk

As a woman, I have had many conversations with men about all different kinds of subjects but after a certain amount of time, I can sometimes see their eyes glazing over in disinterest even as I am talking to them.

 

Most women instinctively know that they like to talk more than men.  I know that I really enjoy verbally taking a situation apart and talking about it and then verbally trying to put it back together again in search of a solution.  But I usually have to find a woman who will listen to me do this.

 

Even my husband would only listen for so long and then he would usually bark, "My God, get to the point!"

Courtesy of the New York Daily News

Well, the point today is that new research was just published in The Journal of Neuroscience concluding that a protein called FOXP2 is responsible for our ability to verbalize, and girls' brains contain higher levels of FOXP2 than boys' brains.

 

Now there seems to be scientific evidence that girls like to talk A LOT more than boys.  Research indicates that women say about 20,000 words a day and men only blurb out about 7,000.

 

After reading this, I wondered, "Is this one of the reasons why men prefer to be quiet about their grieving?"

 

I know some of this information is stereotypical but there is also some truth in the "Chatty Kathy" woman and the "Strong and Silent" man.  I do know a few men who like to chat but they are few and far between.

 

Some men resent being encouraged to talk about the emotions of their grief or even the particulars of how they are doing after the death of a loved one.  In general, men like to put their feelings into action such as doing some kind of activity with their hands.  They immerse themselves in their work and that is their way of processing their loss.

 

Talking is just not the first reaction men have to dealing with a trauma.

 

I read of one man who after his 20-year-old daughter lost control of her car and was killed, the father spent several weeks rebuilding a neighbor's fence that was damaged in an accident.  The father described this activity as crucial to his healing and to "getting me through those first two months."

 

Maybe men think that by verbally expressing their thoughts and feelings that then they are vulnerable, and that's not something they are comfortable with.  Or maybe they have had bad experiences with trying to put their emotions into words.

 

Doctors are beginning to discover that there is such a thing as "men's grief," a grief that is processed very differently than women's. It's not the wrong way or the right way.  It's just the way that belongs to men.  Men's methods of grieving shouldn't be evaluated by the way women deal with their grief because we know that everyone grieves differently no matter what their gender.

 

Since women know that talking makes them feel better, they automatically assume that talking will make men feel better.  And sometimes that's not true. 

 

Whatever the case, the only reason women want men to discuss their grief feelings is because repression of the hurt, the anger and the confusion that surrounds grief can only be unhealthy.  Unrecognized and unacknowledged grief will only become stronger and harder to tame.  Grief that's expressed outward is grief that's released and it then allows you to start a healing process.

 

Vive la difference!

 

In Sympathy

Yesterday I wrote a sympathy card to a man who once lived across the street from our family when I was growing up.

Sadly, his wife died last week after suffering for about a year.  He could no longer take care of his wife by himself but she lived nearby and I understand that he visited her almost every day.  I haven't seen either one of them in years but they still are significant to me.

I babysat for their three children and so did one of my sisters.  We would always wave to them if they were in their yard and sometimes we would walk across the street for short conversations.  My mother and his wife talked a lot because our families had children who were the same ages and they would all be outside playing at the same times.

As I sat down to express my sympathy, I realized that even though I lost my spouse a number of years ago and I have a pretty good idea how much pain this man is feeling, it is still difficult to write a sympathy card.

But as difficult as it is, I still remember how comforting those sympathy cards and letters were to me after my husband died and I would never let my awkwardness stop me from helping another person in the throes of grief and vulnerability.

Writing heartfelt condolences is a tricky area and you're never quite sure if you are saying the right thing that will bring comfort to a person newly bereaved.

I think the most honest and touching thing anyone can write to the grieving person is about how you knew the person that died; what they meant to you, how you met them and a special memory you may have of them.  Maybe they said something to you that always has stayed with you and helped inspire you.

In the end, everyone always wants to hear lots of stories about the person they loved and lost.

Christmas Scenes



Christmas Car
Courtesy of fbc.akamaihd.net

It's Christmas Eve!  Can you believe it?

In some ways, I think Christmas Eve is more magical than Christmas Day.

Maybe it's the anticipation. . .

Here are a few pictures showing the wonder of Christmas that I find comforting.  I hope they bring comfort and joy to you too!  Merry Christmas!!:



Christmas Candles
Courtesy of sphotos-a.ak.fbcdn.net

Christmas Gates
Courtesy of vintagerosegarden.tumblr.com

Christmas Village
Courtesy of dreamingofawhitechristmas.tumblr.com

Christmas Sled
Courtesy of ullamaijahanninen.net

Christmas Walk
Courtesy of crushculdesac.tumblr.com

Christmas Bucket
Courtesy of robomargo.com

 

Christmas Bow
Courtesy of tumblr.com
 

Do Not Look Away

 

 

Courtesy of CNN.com

  

Holding a hand.  Giving a hug.  Opening your heart.

 

We must not be afraid to offer comfort and empathy.

 

I know it's hard to step outself of yourself and reach out to others in pain. To empathize requires introspection which is not a very popular exercise these days.  Introspection requires you to stop thinking about yourself and imagine what another person is feeling in a situation you would not want to happen to you or anyone else.

 

I know it is only a few days until Christmas, a time when Christians traditionally celebrate the birth of our Savior, Jesus Christ, and people would prefer to surround themselves in the comfort of a commercial Christmas, a Christmas of unending presents and idyllic settings full of twinkling lights, freshly baked cookies and smiles and holiday joy.

 

But there is also another Christmas, equally as powerful: a Christmas belonging to those newly bereaved, a Christmas belonging to those whose child has died. 

Please pause this Christmas and think of these people who are desperate in their sorrow.  No matter what the reason, a shooting, a disease, an accident or a medical condition, these parents should not be ignored because they may make us feel uncomfortable.

 

To truly be filled with the spirit of Christmas, we must give of ourselves.  Though it truly is every parent's nightmare, please do not look away from those who are grieving the loss of a child.  Besides the deep pain they are experiencing, there is also an outrage that they are feeling; an outrage that they will never know what the child might have become.

 

They need our help.  They need to know they are not alone.

 

Please read the following Washington Post story written by a mother who writes of her raw feelings following the death of her child.  May it inspire all of us to be courageous in the face of grief:

 

Courtesy of CBS News

 

The death of a child: A parent’s worst nightmare

By Ann Hood, Published: The Washington Post, December 21

Ann Hood is a novelist and short-story writer living in Providence, R.I.

We are stunned. We are outraged. As a nation, we are questioning laws on gun control, questioning how such a thing can happen. These are all appropriate responses to the tragedy in Newtown, Conn.

 

But there is a repercussion to all this that will continue long after laws are changed and life, unbelievably, gets back to normal: the grief of the parents of the 20 children killed. How many times have I heard that this is a parent’s worst nightmare? As someone who has lived the nightmare of losing a child, I know that the enormous hole left behind remains forever.

My daughter, Grace, was not killed by a gun. She died suddenly at age 5 from a virulent form of strep. As I stood stunned in a church at her memorial, one of the hardest things I heard someone say was, “I’m going to go home and hug my child a little tighter.” Well, good for you, I thought. I’m going to go home and scream.

What can be said in light of such grief? What can you do? The problem is that no one can give the parents what they want most: their child. Long after the memorials fade and the casseroles stop coming, that child is still dead, and those parents are still grieving.

I offer here what I have learned about grief in the 10 years since my Gracie died:

I learned that platitudes don’t work. Time doesn’t heal. She is not in a better place. God does give us more than we can bear sometimes. I have learned that there is more power in a good strong hug than in a thousand meaningful words. I have learned that even in the face of loss, clothes still get dirty and bills still need to get paid. Friends who laundered our socks and answered our e-mails, who mowed our lawn and put gas in our cars, helped us — a lot. The friend who came one afternoon and went through Grace’s backpack, carefully storing her kindergarten workbook and papers, hanging her art on the refrigerator and her raincoat on its hook in the mudroom, had more courage than the ones who told me to call anytime.

Some friends sat with me day after day, week after week and, yes, month after month, and let me talk while they listened. I told the story of Grace’s last day over and over, as if by telling it I could make sense of what had happened to her, to us. But there is no sense to be made of such tragedy, and when I realized that, they let me wail and bang my fists and curse.

As time passes, people return to their ordinary lives, while grieving parents no longer have ordinary lives. They are redefining themselves, and they are at a loss at how to move forward. There is a woman who still sends me a card on Grace’s birthday and every Mother’s Day, who sent cards weekly for more than a year, a lifeline to a grieving mother. The people who even now, a decade later, still say Grace’s name, still comment on her quirky style and artistic talents and love of the Beatles, continue to help me through my days, simply by remembering her.

How easy it is to look away from grief, as if it might be contagious, or too frightening to face. But the Newtown parents have a difficult, lifelong journey through grief ahead of them. Somehow, the seasons will change, the anniversaries will stack up one after the other. They will, unbelievably, smile again. They will make dinner and change jobs and buy clothes and celebrate and travel. They will go on. But there will always, always, be this grief, softened and dulled but present every minute of every day.

Do not forget that. Look them in the eye. Take them in your arms, and do not let them go.

It's A Girl!

 

 

 

The daughter of a very good friend of mine gave birth early yesterday morning to a baby girl!

I am very excited for the parents of this beautiful new baby and my friend and her husband who now are grandparents. 

 

It's so magical to me that on Wednesday morning she was a mother and a wife (and lots of other great things too!) but by Thursday morning she had become a grandmother and met her first grandchild.

 

You really never know what life has in store for you! 

Becoming a parent is the adventure of a lifetime.  I mean this in the best of all ways.  I have loved every minute of it.  There is a lot of repetition and hard work involved in raising a child, either as a single parent or as part of a couple, but the rewards are priceless.

 

When we are with babies and young children we see the world in a fresh and new way for their reactions to the world are spontaneous and unfiltered.  I also discovered that being with my own son when he was a child, or other people's young children, could be healing in the sense that everything else that has happened to you that day falls away and the time spent with a child highlights what is really important in life.

 

Taking their hands, comforting them, teaching them right from wrong and helping them to learn how to take care of themselves is repeated over and over, the stuff of everyday life.  But it's also the stuff of a super love that you feel for your child and that super love never decreases even as they need you less and less.

 

I think the parents of this new baby girl are going to be great and I look forward to watching them take their journey together as a family.

 

P.S. Don't forget to have fun!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Fab Friday

What can I say except that I am oh so very glad that today is Friday!!

It's the end of a work week that has no word to describe it.

Could it be that as the year is coming to an end, people are looking at the calendar and suddenly deciding they want to wrap up their business concerns or invoices?  Could it be the whole "fiscal cliff " fiasco?  I don't know but whatever it is, this week has been incredibly freakin' busy.

I arrive in the office thinking it's going to be one kind of day and then it ends up being another kind of day.  What do you call that kind of dynamic?  You know, the kind of day when every activity starts to blend into the next one and you just try to ride the mojo.

People In Motion
By Yael Mann

I'm happy to have my job but this week stands out for the increased pace.

 

This is also the time of year when I think to myself, "Why didn't you start some of your Christmas shopping in November?"  I truly admire those people who are able to start Christmas projects months ahead of time and then store them away for the holidays.  Or the people who start baking weeks ahead of time and then take comfort in all the goodies that have in the freezer ready just in time for holiday parties.

 

Organization is at the top of my list of things to do this weekend and maybe some exercise to burn off the extra calories I have been indulging in during December.

 

What are your weekend plans?

Being All In

 

 

 

 

 

This holiday season, I am appreciating the endless decorations of bows, bells and evergreens, listening to the traditional Christmas music that seems to be playing everywhere and trying to find wonderful presents for those that I love.

 

I've been to a few Christmas parties and also donated to schools and other groups who are dependent upon help from others so that they may continue their community work that is so crucial to helping men, women and children who are homeless and without a place to go for regular shelter and meals.

 

I am trying to give of myself and think positive thoughts because I know if I put myself in that mindset then I will act positively and carry on in a meaningful way.

 

I know there is no right or wrong way to celebrate the holidays, there is just what we are comfortable with and what we feel is right for ourselves.

 

But I still don't feel that I'm "all in" to the Christmas spirit.

 

Maybe I'm overthinking it and I should just allow it to happen rather than wondering why I don't particularly feel it.  I'm not sure.

 

Maybe it's that I feel emotionally spent by personal situations where I am constantly trying to be supportive but it doesn't seem to be making a difference.  That is a hard one.  I think we all have come up against that kind of situation.  I am trying my best, and so are others, but at a certain point, you can only do so much.

 

I guess at the end of the day, it's really all about love.

 

How are you feeling this holiday season?

Listening Can Be Powerful

Every day I try to maintain a positive attitude about life.  I remind myself that I am blessed for having family, friends, a home, a job and good health.  I tell myself that this day is unique and I have an opportunity to do something I didn't get to do yesterday.  But it is still an anxious world we live in these days and we need to be aware of its' toll on others.

I am certain that God has a plan for all of us.  I am sure there are people out there who don't believe in God or any kind of higher being but that's not me.  I truly believe that God watches over us and I try my best to be good and stay on the straight and narrow.  Of course staying on the straight and narrow would be a million times easier if I could learn to keep my big mouth shut.  But that's another post.....

So instead of talking, I am working on listening.  I am learning that listening is a very valuable skill.  I think lots of people, myself included, carry around varying degrees of emotional and financial baggage and they're not sure what it all means and how it's going to turn out.  I'm not sure what God's plan is for us right now but in the past week, I think God's plan has been unsettling.  Last week, a male friend a few years older than me died suddenly, I found out today that a mother I know committed suicide and over the weekend I went to visit a family friend who just entered hospice care.

Comparing notes with a long-time friend about this, she said she knew what I meant because there are many of her friends right now who started taking medicine for anxiety or depression and doing all they can to keep it together during these tenuous times.

Life is fragile and that is all the more reason to hold on dearly to the people who matter most to you.  Whether those people are family, friends or both family and friends, life can switch gears very quickly.  I don't know whether these things are happening more often because I have reached a certain age in life or because the economy is causing people's anxiety levels to spike.  Maybe it's a combination of both things but I am aware that there is a different vibe out there now and it's not to be ignored.

Listening is a powerful tool.  I recently read that when you listen to people, really listen and not anticipate what they are going to say next, that sometimes they can hear the truth in what they are speaking, sometimes for the very first time.  When you listen you create space for someone to fill with their words, their thoughts.  When you are quiet you give the other person time to assess or process what is happening to them.

Listening is a gift.  Try it and see what happens.