Time to celebrate the birthdays of my parents who are in their 80's. My Mom and Dad's birthdays land on the calendar exactly a week apart so in the last few years my siblings and I have started celebrating their birthdays together in the interest of harmony, world peace and all that is holy.
We know we are blessed to have our parents still with us and we definitely don't take it for granted. Not for one minute. But sometimes it can be tricky in making sure that each birthday receives the same amount of attention, if you know what I mean. The healing part of this family get together is that it's great to have a happy reason to gather and just straight out enjoy ourselves which usually means retelling childhood stories, imitating each other and a lot of jokes.
One of the presents that was a huge hit was a box of Ole and Lena fortune cookies that one of my sisters had bought at a Scandinavian store. I had to Google the names of Ole and Lena because I didn't know who they are or why they are funny but apparently they are the central characters to jokes made by Scandinavian Americans particularly in Minnesota, Wisconsin and the rest of the Upper Midwest region of the US. The humor is rather folk and really silly.
Happy Birthday Mom and Dad and we all wish you many, many more!!
Mom &Dad Celebrating Their Birthdays In Party Attire
Yesterday was an absolute lousy day. I arrived home from work and was not feeling good about my little world but was also looking for a way to rid myself of those negative, counter-productive feelings left over from the office.
While making dinner, I checked my email to see if there was some wonderful piece of news that would cheer me up. My stressed out mood buster came in the form of an email from Pip, my cousin's talented son and singer who participated in season two of NBC's The Voice as part of Adam Levine's team.
Music. Yes, that's what I needed to erase the day's frustrations and bring me back to a relaxed state of mind. Pip's email contained a new song and video titled "Hooked" which I clicked on right away because I knew Pip's amazing voice and positive energy would shine through his music video and be contagious and mood changing.
It was!! Thanks Pip!! Check out "Hooked" for yourself below:
Unlike many things in life, there is no right or wrong way to grieve.
There's really just your way.
Whether it's through talking, crying, or slowly processing your feelings privately, grief must be acknowledged. If you try to suppress your grief feelings, they will only come back later on and sometimes they come back in unhealthy ways.
Even though others will probably try to suggest that you should do certain things at certain points in your grief process, it really and truly is up to you and what you feel comfortable doing. There is no schedule.
Some people bury their feelings and hope that their sadness will go away on its own because life feels like a bad dream. Others talk openly about their loved one and try to constantly share the fear, disappointment, frustration and guilt of their stories. Many people find it comforting to set up memorials to their loved one and the process of setting up such a memorial starts the healing process for them.
But grief shakes us to the core and makes us question aspects of our lives that we once took for granted.
Below is a different kind of story about grieving that appeared on the website Hello Grief (www.hellogrief.org). It is a story of a woman who grieved privately, away from others as she searched for the facts and the reasons for her loved one's death. She tried to use the process of searching for answers as a distraction so she wouldn't have to think about what happened to her.
This story is one more way of creating a dialogue about grief and coming to an understanding about the complicated yet personal way that people decide to process their feelings of grief:
My Life As An Analytical Griever By Emily Clark
How being an intellectual helped – and sometimes hindered – my grief.
Numerous studies have been done over the years that look at the ways that people grieve. A number of theories about the styles or patterns of grief have evolved from this research. Perhaps one of the best theories I have heard over the years contrasts emotional and analytical grieving.
Emotional grievers are probably the people we stereotypically imagine – loud outbursts of emotions and tears, heavily dependent on those around them, weeping on the shoulders of friends and strangers alike, fully immersed in the emotion of grief whether they are in public or at home.
Analytical grievers, on the other hand, are the people who often get a bad rap when it comes to their grief. These are the grievers who often experience their emotions when they are alone – they save the crying, weeping, and wailing for when they are alone. For me this usually meant breaking down in the car on the way to or from work or, when I just couldn’t take it anymore, in my office at work (thank goodness I didn’t work in a cubicle).
Because analytical grievers don’t often display much emotion in public, people around them often think they aren’t grieving “correctly” or at all. I remember a family member telling me 9 months after my husband had died that he didn’t think I was all that heartbroken because he hadn’t seen me ever cry. The truth was, I cried all the time. For hours and hours, every day. I just did it when I was by myself and didn’t have to worry about what others might think or how uncomfortable I might make them feel. It wasn’t until much later on in my grief journey that I realized that letting go and crying in public from time to time might actually have made me feel better. It would have saved me hours of agony trying to hold in my emotions as they built up and built up until I burst.
We analytical grievers also spend a great deal of time and our grief energy on trying to figure things out and get things done. For some this could mean hours poring over medical researching online, filling out forms, reading every book on grief possible, planning a funeral, or taking up every ounce of busy work available. While my family sat around scratching their heads in confusion, I insisted on going over every detail of my husband’s vehicle accident, over and over. I read the coroner’s report, witness testimony, and practically interrogated the first officers on scene until even they couldn’t take it anymore. I insisted on seeing what was left of my husband’s wrecked vehicle, despite all advice to the contrary. I immersed myself in book after book, seeking out literature that might hold the key to saving me from the mess I was in. For me this was all a part of trying to understand the how and the why of what had happened. I needed information. I needed answers.
Sadly, these answers never came. With every new detail I acquired, I felt as if I understood less and less. All the facts in the world couldn’t take away the simple truth: that my husband was gone and never coming back. Over time, my obsession of analyzing his passing became a distraction from my grieving. Rather than facing the truth and finding healing, I was distracting myself from the pain. Well…as much as one could anyway.
Eventually I began to realize that I would always be left with a multitude of unanswerable questions, and let myself drift into an ocean of pain and emotion. While I never lost that tendency towards trying to “intellectualize” my grief, I began to appreciate and embrace my emotional side as well. There was a delicate balance between trying to understand and just letting myself feel.
So if you or someone you know is grieving, I urge you to take a moment to consider your own grief style as well as theirs. Instead of questioning the way they express themselves, try to remember that there is no right way to grieve. For some, our comfort is in being alone and keeping busy. For others, healing comes from crying on the shoulder of a friend (or stranger). Whatever the case, I urge you to embrace your grieving style and respect the grieving style of those around you.
Our thanks to guest author Emily Clark for sharing her story here with us. You can read more of Emily’s journey through young widowhood on her blog.
The human heart is an amazing organ isn't it? We fall in love, break up, and then perhaps fall in love over and over again, testing the resiliance of our courageous yet vulnerable hearts.
Somehow, throughout our lives, we ride this emotional rollercoaster and our hearts manage to survive the ride and keep on beating. When a relationship doesn't work out, we are sad but eventually we pick ourselves up and carry on until we meet the next person who catches our fancy.
We must keep love in our hearts for love teaches us everything about the richness of life.
Someone close to me is emotionally stuck on certain negative events that happened in her life decades ago. She talks about them in great detail and tells others how she felt when these things happened to her. Listening over and over again to her retelling of these events doesn't seem to help her move forward and get past what happened.
It's as though she has a list in her head and she mentally checks these things off every day to remind herself that someone did something wrong to her. It is sad and frustrating to watch someone concentrate on the same past events and yet not be able to say good-bye to them.
Constantly being a part of this conversation is teaching me in a new way about being positive about life and truly forgiving. Not just saying you're sorry or accepting someone else's apology because you are expected to, but really and truly getting it out of your system and meaning it.
Bad things, unfair things and nasty things do happen to us. Unfortunately that's what happens in life. But great things, positive things, happy things also happen to us. It's up to us to either choose the negative or the positive and then go ahead and live our lives.
A friend explained it to me this way: if you decide to hold on to something that makes you angry or "wronged," then every day you have to find the negative energy within yourself to go over that event and how it felt and what you think should have happened instead of what did actually happen.
That's a lot of baggage to drag around.
Instead, forgiveness is something you practice once. You look at what happened, realize we are all human and make mistakes, forgive and then let it go. Really let it go. And then move on.
A colleague at work has the following saying about forgiveness taped to her desk. The author is unknown but every time I read it I stop and think about what it means and commit to bringing the spirit of forgiveness into my life.
Here's the saying:
"Forgiveness is a decision to let go of resentment and thoughts of revenge.
It is the act of untying yourself from thoughts and feelings that bind you to the offense committed against you.
When you embrace forgiveness, you embrace peace, hope, gratitude and joy."
Having spent almost two years going to group grief counseling sessions, I am a big believer in talking about the issues you need help with.
Whether it's grief, drug or alcohol addiction, weight issues or marriage problems, talking can help because you are taking your issues out of the dark and shining light on them for everyone to see. You're not hiding your issues and acting as though everything is okay and being handled well.
The idea of being part of a support group can seem very intimidating. It was not an easy decision for me: in talking about my pain, it was almost as though I was reliving it. But I was sick of the pain and it wasn't going away. I don't think I thought about what would happen when I began to talk about my emotional, painful and raw emotions to a group of strangers. You are opening up your heart, making yourself vulnerable and saying "I am so messed up right now. Please listen and support me."
I was really nervous when I went by myself to my first counseling session, totally unsure of what was going to happen. But I think I am speaking for myself and definitely others when I say that it usually takes you a long time to decide that you need to go and receive counseling in the first place, so by the time you finally find a person or place that you trust and feel comfortable with, you are ready to participate. I would have stayed in the group longer but one of the rules of the group was that you could only belong for two years.
In a surprising way, I found it freeing to be with other people who have experienced loss and listen to their stories and talk about feelings, thoughts, actions or regrets that were on the top of our minds. There was a lot I didn't have to explain when I was talking about my loss. I looked into the eyes of others in the group and could see that most people understood exactly what I was talking about and might have also felt it for themselves at some point. We were there to get better and we were there because we know we needed help and guidance to get back to a place in our lives where it didn't hurt so much.
My first session was about two hours and there were about 12 people. Two people who are trained therapists led the group's discussions and offered topics for us to think about from week to week.
We started by introducing ourselves and giving a little bit of information as to why we were there in the counseling session. When it was my turn, I started to introduce myself and my story and then I started to cry. It was unexpected for I really thought I would be okay and could at least get through an introduction. But no luck. The group gave me the best response: silence, a box of tissues and as much time as I need to get myself under control and let me speak about myself.
This may sound obvious but you can't go to individual or group counseling if you don't think you have a problem or if you think that counseling is shameful or humiliating.
Support groups can work well because each person is experiencing the same difficulty in their life even though each person may be handling it differently. For me, it took away some of the feelings of aloneness and isolation.
But the real work of group counseling happens between sessions when you are out in the real world and trying to use your new information to bring about change. The group can guide you and give you support but ultimately it's up to you to figure out how to make it work. Just like many things in life, you get out of it what you put into it.
Whether it's group counseling or one-on-one couseling, either way I hope you find an outlet for your pain. Congratulations for being willing to take the important step of reaching out to others for support.
I think the hardest thing about writing is writing.
~ Journalist, Author and Screenwriter Nora Ephron
During Sunday night's Academy Awards ceremony, tributes were paid to those in the film industry who passed away in the last year. Nora Ephron most certainly was a bright twinkling star in her own right and the producers of the show chose to display the above quote in her honor.
Ephron was a keen observer of American culture and especially the stormy and romantic relationships between men and women. Like most things Ephron wrote about she is spot on about trying to write.
Writing is trying to get the words together in one sentence to reveal a truth.
Writing this blog for my readers is a wonderful, sometimes magical thing. It has helped me process the grief of losing my husband and, in turn, I do hope that it has helped others of you out there also trying to make sense of a loss whether it is a husband, a wife, a child, a parent or a good friend. I never want anyone to feel isolated or alone in their despair.
Writing is something I feel I have to do and each time I sit down at the computer keyboard to write to you I try to do my very best. Sometimes I feel I hit the bar of accomplishing what I set out to do and other days I wish I had a better brain so that something more insightful would have hit the page.
I enjoy writing but it also can be frustrating to find the right words to convey what I am feeling. There is nothing more frustrating than staring at the blank screen and you know what you want to say but just don't know how to say it. Writing can sometimes feel like trying to nail jello to the wall: elusive and messy.
Writing in particular about grief and a person's ability to bounce back from a loss is a tricky mission. When I post my thoughts, I want to explain how shocked, how painful, how alone, how outside yourself you feel when someone you loves dies and how you feel totally lost. But I don't want to sound whiney, dramatic or self-absorbed.
Grief is a personal subject, almost intimate, yet it also univeral.
Whether you want to or not, at some point in your life you will experience grief. I can't say what it will be like for you or how long it will last because everyone's grief is different.
I also want to let you know that through my blog posts that with the passage of time, and it has been nine years for me since my husband died, the journey improves. Step by step, day by day, you move forward. It is slow and some days you may not feel the will to go on but that probably means you need to rest and recoup to garner strength. You may not know where you are going but the act of moving helps you work through your jumbling emotions.
I have found that it takes positive energy, support from friends and family and a healthy way of living. I know you will find your way. It will reveal itself to you.
Thank you for reading Cry, Laugh Heal!!! My readers are the best and I love hearing from you!!!
They say that sharing is caring and I care so much about my readers that when I read the below post yesterday from the Bereaved Partners Support Group (@BereavedPartner on Twitter), I couldn't wait to share it with you.
So many things in this article resonated with me: especially the idea of stepping into your fears and working through them to find something new in your changed life.
Healing and recovery happen. It may not feel as though this natural process is happening to you but it is. You must believe in a new way of life and even a new point of view.
It doesn't mean that you won't miss your loved one. You will. But it will not feel as raw as it did in the beginning. I can't tell you how many people would tell me that my husband would not want me to live my life in a sad way; in a way of constantly feeling pain. I knew they were right but I didn't feel that way. I wasn't in that place yet. And then one day it did make sense to me and I did realize that it was okay to enjoy my life.
It is okay to buy some beautiful flowers. It is okay to go out and laugh with friends. It is okay to open myself up to new opportunities.
Please read the below story. I love it because it is so hopeful!!
Awakening
One of our group attendees passed on this passage to us to share with others. We encourage you to read it. It is eye-opening, grounding and beautiful…
BPSG Team
Awakening
A time comes in your life when you finally get it… when, in the midst of all your fears and insanity, you stop dead in your tracks and somewhere the voice inside your head cries out… ENOUGH! Enough fighting and crying and blaming and struggling to hold on.
Then, like a child quieting down after a tantrum, you blink back your tears and begin to look at the world through new eyes.
This is your awakening.
You realise it’s time to stop hoping and waiting for something to change, or for happiness, safety and security to magically appear over the next horizon. You realise that in the real world there aren’t always fairy tale endings, and that any guarantee of “happily ever after” must begin with you… and in the process a sense of serenity is born of acceptance.
You awaken to the fact that you are not perfect and that not everyone will always love, appreciate or approve of who or what you are… and that’s OK. They are entitled to their own views and opinions.
You learn the importance of loving and championing yourself… and in the process a sense of new found confidence is born of self-approval. You stop complaining and blaming other people for the things they did to you – or didn’t do for you – and you learn that the only thing you can really count on is the unexpected.
You learn that people don’t always say what they mean or mean what they say and that not everyone will always be there for you and that everything isn’t always about you.
So, you learn to stand on your own and to take care of yourself… and in the process a sense of safety and security is born of self-resilience.
You stop judging and pointing fingers and you begin to accept people as they are and to overlook their shortcomings and human frailties… and in the process a sense of peace and contentment is born of forgiveness.
You learn to open up to new worlds and different points of view. You begin reassessing and redefining who you are and what you really stand for.
You learn the difference between wanting and needing and you begin to discard the doctrines and values you’ve outgrown, or should never have bought into to begin with.
You learn that there is power and glory in creating and contributing and you stop manoeuvring through life merely as a “consumer” looking for your next fix.
You learn that principles such as honesty and integrity are not the out-dated ideals of a bygone era, but the mortar that holds together the foundation upon which you must build a life.
You learn that you don’t know everything, its not your job to save the world and that you can’t teach a pig to sing. You learn that the only cross to bear is the one you choose to carry and that martyrs get burned at the stake.
Then you learn about love. You learn to look at relationships as they really are and not as you would have them be. You learn that alone does not mean lonely.
You stop trying to control people, situations and outcomes. You learn to distinguish between guilt and responsibility and the importance of setting boundaries and learning to say NO.
You also stop working so hard at putting your feelings aside, smoothing things over and ignoring your needs.
You learn that your body really is a temple. You begin to care for it and treat it with respect. You begin to eat a balanced diet, drink more water, and take more time to exercise.
You learn that being tired fuels doubt, fear and uncertainty and so you take more time to rest. And, just as food fuels the body, laughter fuels our souls. So you take more time to laugh and to play.
You learn that, for the most part, you get in life what you believe you deserve, and that much of life truly is a self-fulfilling prophecy.
You learn that anything worth achieving is worth working for and that wishing for something to happen is different than working toward making it happen.
More importantly, you learn that in order to achieve success you need direction, discipline and perseverance. You also learn that no one can do it all alone, and that it’s OK to risk asking for help.
You learn the only thing you must truly fear is fear itself. You learn to step right into and through your fears because you know that whatever happens you can handle it and to give in to fear is to give away the right to live life on your own terms.
You learn to fight for your life and not to squander it living under a cloud of impending doom.
You learn that life isn’t always fair, you don’t always get what you think you deserve and that sometimes bad things happen to unsuspecting, good people… and you learn not to always take it personally.
You learn that nobody’s punishing you and everything isn’t always somebody’s fault. It’s just life happening. You learn to admit when you are wrong and to build bridges instead of walls.
You learn that negative feelings such as anger, envy and resentment must be understood and redirected or they will suffocate the life out of you and poison the universe that surrounds you.
You learn to be thankful and to take comfort in many of the simple things we take for granted, things that millions of people upon the earth can only dream about: a full refrigerator, clean running water, a soft warm bed, a long hot shower.
Then, you begin to take responsibility for yourself by yourself and you make yourself a promise to never betray yourself and to never, ever settle for less than your heart’s desire.
You make it a point to keep smiling, to keep trusting, and to stay open to every wonderful possibility.
You hang a wind chime outside your window so you can listen to the wind.
Finally, with courage in your heart, you take a stand, you take a deep breath, and you begin to design the life you want to live as best you can.
Following-up to yesterday's post about writing as a way to process your thoughts and emotions, I just wanted to add a few quick thoughts.
We want and need to connect to each other because we are human. Reaching out to one another, expressing our thoughts and emotions is essential.
Otherwise, we are isolated and afraid; cut off from human interaction and we don't allow ourselves to have the opportunity to grow or change. We are just lost in our own thoughts as though we are watching the same video on a loop tape. Over and over again. Stuck.
At a certain point in my grief journey, I felt stuck. I was sick of my grief feelings. I was tired of feeling the pain. I was tired of my whole outlook on life. I wanted life to be the way that it used to be, even when my husband was sick. At least he was still with me and we could talk to each other.
But I knew life wasn't going to go backwards for me so I had to find a way to get myself in gear and go forward. I also knew that if I felt this way, then others must feel the same way too. I know I am not alone in my feelings and by writing about what helps me, I hope I am helping others who are dealing with a loss.
Writing or journaling is one way to express your innermost thoughts and process all the complex emotions you are feeling. I will be honest with you: it is hard to examine your thoughts. Sometimes they are not pretty. You are examining why you feel the way you do and that helps you get to know what gives meaning to your life.
Lots of people keep diaries and journals to record their thoughts and to stay in touch with what is happening to them. Even presidents keep diaries.
I was pleasantly surprised to read in a recent Time magazine article that President Obama routinely scribbles down his thoughts and uses writing as a way to chart his way forward and cope with the stresses of his all-consuming 24/7 mega-stressful job.
"In my life, writing has been an important exercise to clarify what I believe, what I see, what I care about, what my deepest values are," Obama said in the Time magazine interview. "The process of converting a jumble of thoughts into coherent sentences makes you ask tougher questions."
I have found that when you are talking to children of any age about almost any subject, you should be prepared to hear things that can be so truthful that it can take your breath away. That's not a bad thing. I think it's wonderful but not everyone is always ready to hear the unpolished truth.
That's the beauty and wonder of children: there usually is no filter on their wise thoughts.
In talking to my son about his father's death, I tried to keep our conversations as honest and open as I could. I felt it was more important for my son to express himself and vent his frustrations than it was to worry about whether his words hurt my feelings.
The conversations were for him, not me. He needed to have a way to verbalize his thoughts and feelings even if they didn't make sense. This was about him, a then 13-year-old boy, working through his jumble of emotions instead of ignoring the pain and trying to go on with his life and tamp it down inside himself.
I didn't think it would be constructive to tell my son that we needed to talk about his loss and then make him filter and edit his point of view. I knew he needed to say what he felt and not what he thought I wanted to hear. There were times when I was surprised by the rawness of his anger but I couldn't show it. I figured if I did show my surprise or displeasure while talking to him, then whatever progress we made in communicating would be erased by me revealing what I felt or thought.
Hello Grief, an insightful support website for children, teens and adults, addresses having serious conversations about a loss with children and offers the following tips which I hope you also find to be helpful:
While children experience the same feelings of despair, sadness, helplessness, anger, anxiety, guilt, confusion and fear that adults do following a loss, they often do not have the maturity and experience to understand, identify and express those feelings.
Communication is key to helping our children understand their grief, and begin addressing it in healthy ways. Without communication, you will not know where your child may have a misunderstanding about how or why the loss occurred. With communication, you will be able to identify areas in which your child is struggling with their grief, and how you can help.
It is important to continue discussing the loss and after affects of the loss (such as moving, remarriage, life milestones), with your children over time.
Below are a few tips to having open, successful communication with your kids about grief and loss at any age:
As a parent, understand what your goal is before starting the conversation - why are you wanting to talk to your child? Is there a specific issue you want to discuss? A specific question you want to uncover?
Stay on topic – Once you decide on your goal for the conversation, don’t use this time to bring up other “issues” you’ve wanted to address unrelated to the conversation (i.e., homework, house chores, dating, etc).
Create a safe environment – Atmosphere can play a huge role in your child’s willingness to open up about how he or she is feeling. Have this discussion in a safe place, away from others who may overhear. Don’t create an intimidating environment, such as starting this conversation in places associated with “getting in trouble.” Having a snack, or doing an activity during which talking is easy could be helpful (such as coloring/drawing, riding in a car, going for a jog, etc).
Allow your kids to be able to say whatever they need, any way they want, to during your conversation - This does not mean you have to allow your child to use profanity if you do not typically allow it. Rather, enable your child to say what they need to say without “correcting their story,” should you remember it differently, or have a different opinion. It also means not keeping any topics “off limits” – including the details of the loss, even if it’s difficult for you to discuss. Let them say what they need, and ask the questions they need without limitation.
Know that some things are off limits to parents - It’s not you, it’s them. And it’s normal. But, having more frequent safe, and honest conversations with your children will help them build trust and begin to discuss more. Also know that even if your child isn’t saying anything to you, it doesn’t mean they are not benefiting from the conversation. Know they are processing internally. You should also make sure that your child has additional outlets to have the conversations they can’t have with you – such as a counselor, or support group.
Today's post is a continution of yesterday's chat about life being easier to navigate when you embrace a positive attitude. As the below story says, happiness is a choice, and you can practice it as much as you want!!
A very good friend sent me this story that was recently published in a British newspaper called The Guardian. It gently addresses the thoughts of people who know they are at the end of their lives. The story is timely because it gets right to the core of addressing how we live our lives verses how we wish we had lived our lives. My friend said she found the story below to be "rather uplifting, because we might still have time to prevent some of our own regrets." I agree!
True happiness comes from forgetting about yourself and doing something for someone else just because you want to, not because of what you're going to get in return. You do it just because you know it makes the other person happy.
I found this philosophy to be true even after my husband died. Helping my son, a friend or someone at work freed up my mind and let me temporarily think about something else. Sometimes it was a relief to get out of that heavy cloud of hurt and try to become part of something lighter.
Focusing on the bad, the ugly and the negative, just puts you in a bad, ugly or negative frame of mind and it's hard to believe that anything constructive will come out of that. I hope you enjoy this story as much as I did:
Top five regrets of the dying
By Susie Steiner
The Guardian
Wednesday 1 February, 2012
A nurse has recorded the most common regrets of the dying, and among the top ones is 'I wish I hadn't worked so hard'. What would your biggest regret be if this was your last day of life?
A palliative nurse has recorded the top five regrets of the dying. Photograph: Montgomery Martin/Alamy
There was no mention of more sex or bungee jumps. A palliative nurse who has counselled the dying in their last days has revealed the most common regrets we have at the end of our lives. And among the top, from men in particular, is 'I wish I hadn't worked so hard'.
Bronnie Ware is an Australian nurse who spent several years working in palliative care, caring for patients in the last 12 weeks of their lives. She recorded their dying epiphanies in a blog called Inspiration and Chai, which gathered so much attention that she put her observations into a book called The Top Five Regrets of the Dying.
Ware writes of the phenomenal clarity of vision that people gain at the end of their lives, and how we might learn from their wisdom. "When questioned about any regrets they had or anything they would do differently," she says, "common themes surfaced again and again."
Here are the top five regrets of the dying, as witnessed by Ware:
1. I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.
"This was the most common regret of all. When people realise that their life is almost over and look back clearly on it, it is easy to see how many dreams have gone unfulfilled. Most people had not honoured even a half of their dreams and had to die knowing that it was due to choices they had made, or not made. Health brings a freedom very few realise, until they no longer have it."
2. I wish I hadn't worked so hard.
"This came from every male patient that I nursed. They missed their children's youth and their partner's companionship. Women also spoke of this regret, but as most were from an older generation, many of the female patients had not been breadwinners. All of the men I nursed deeply regretted spending so much of their lives on the treadmill of a work existence."
3. I wish I'd had the courage to express my feelings.
"Many people suppressed their feelings in order to keep peace with others. As a result, they settled for a mediocre existence and never became who they were truly capable of becoming. Many developed illnesses relating to the bitterness and resentment they carried as a result."
4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.
"Often they would not truly realise the full benefits of old friends until their dying weeks and it was not always possible to track them down. Many had become so caught up in their own lives that they had let golden friendships slip by over the years. There were many deep regrets about not giving friendships the time and effort that they deserved. Everyone misses their friends when they are dying."
5. I wish that I had let myself be happier.
"This is a surprisingly common one. Many did not realise until the end that happiness is a choice. They had stayed stuck in old patterns and habits. The so-called 'comfort' of familiarity overflowed into their emotions, as well as their physical lives. Fear of change had them pretending to others, and to their selves, that they were content, when deep within, they longed to laugh properly and have silliness in their life again."
What's your greatest regret so far, and what will you set out to achieve or change before you die?
