When I share stories on this blog about my travels with grief over the past several years, I do so in the hopes that it will help others cope with their losses. Grief can be isolating even though I believe most people want to connect with others and especially those who have been where they are when they experience a loss.
I think everyone wants to feel that someone, anyone gets what's going on with them; especially at this time of the year.
One of the ways I found a connection was through reading. In the beginning of grieving the loss of my husband, I read everything I could get my hands on about what this whole grieving thing was about.
I was hungry for information about the particulars of grief because no one I knew had lost their husband at a young age and was also trying to raise a child. I wanted to know how long would it last, would I always feel so full of pain, would I ever stop crying, would I ever laugh again, how was I going to get myself going again. And these were only a few of the urgent issues swirling around in my head at that time.
I have since learned that every loss is unique, that each of us grieves in our own way and what helps one person doesn't always work for another person. That is why I am always searching for stories about how other people have handled their loss and what helped them to find meaning in their life once again. You never know what's going to click.
Nate Berkus
Enter Nate Berkus. Yes, Nate Berkus the designer. Nate Berkus, the talented cutie who you've seen on television as he goes into people's homes and beautifies their rooms with new design solutions and a refreshing down-to-earth attitude about design, living spaces and life.
You may not know this but he's also the same Nate Berkus who in 2004 survived the Indian Ocean tsunami. Tragically, his partner, photographer Fernando Bengoechea, Berkus' did not survive. They were traveling to a small surfing village in Sri Lanka when the tsunami hit. Nate Berkus shared with oprah.com earlier this year his wisdom about how his loss affected him and how he went about processing it. I just discovered this story and felt Nate Berkus' answers still resonate with help for all of us.
Please read Nate Berkus' insights about moving on with your life after a loss in the following link:
Today's post is a shout out to all of the men out there who have lost their wives or partners and are working hard to juggle the never ending responsibilities of working a paying job while raising their precious children.
I think that women in this situation tend to receive more attention than men due to the sheer numbers of women who find themselves widowed with young children. But men are also out there too doing their part and running around -- as all parents do -- trying to keep all the plates in the air.
I was reminded of this earlier in the week when I jumped into a taxi and had a casual conversation with the young driver. It was one of those casual chats that starts out as nothing but then it became more. We were talking about the cost of living in Washington, DC and the price of gas and then it evolved into stories about our children and life's priorities.
The taxi driver had two children, one who just started college and the other who was around 10 years old. He tapped the dashboard to show me the picture of his younger child which he had taped by the driver's wheel. "This is the reason that I don't work on weekends even though that's the time I could make a lot more money," Taxi Dad told me. "My wife died in 2009 from cancer so I am doing it by myself, you know? I don't have time to go crazy and spend money and time on other things. Do you know what I mean?"
Yup, I told him, I did know what he meant.
I have been a single parent for ten years and being a single parent, just like being a parent with a spouse or partner, is a lot of hard work. It's also incredibly rewarding and sometimes heartbreaking. Many times I found myself in uncharted territory in ways I never imagined and sometimes I got through the day by just going with my gut instinct as I tried to be both Mom and Dad. Whether it's something that happens at school, a decision to be made about a friend's party or sharing the car, I second guessed myself a lot.
Instead of saying, "I don't know. I'll have to talk to your father about this," I would try to buy some time on making a decision by just being honest and saying, "You have to give me some more time to think about this." Sometimes, I would call a friend and sometimes I would call one of my sisters but you definitely need someone you can talk to whose judgment you trust because you need parental feedback and I didn't have anyone else to help me figure it out.
I think widowed Dads probably learn to set up their own support systems and find other guys or family and friends to help them navigate the surprises of trying to work a job and raise children by themselves.
Taxi Dad is just one of thousands of Dads out there who try to arrange their work schedules to support their children's needs just as women do.
As my ride and our conversation ended, it felt good to share our stories about how we handled our losses and connect for a short time with another parent who had also lost a spouse. Me and Taxi Dad are doing our best and that's all we can ask of ourselves.
Here's to the Dads who man up every day and make it work!
When you consider the amount of emotional baggage we all carry around with us, it is amazing that we find love.
Wounded though our hearts may be, we cannot fight the attraction and pull of another person who catches our fancy.
Maybe you have been lucky and found love more than once.
I found love with a small l a few times, but found love with a capital L only once. It's an amazing, powerful, crazy thing this love emotion that takes us over and keeps us going and truly defines our lives. It is not to be treated lightly, as though it were something you can just toss away whenever you want and find something better when you want it.
Oh no. It is not an emotion to played with. It makes your fingers tingly and your mouth dry and when you find the one who is right for you, don't ever look away.
Grab it and don't hesitate, for the one who loves you deeply, the one who heals your wounded heart, probably also inspires you, just as Denise inspires Kevin Kelly.
Please read this beautiful love story in the link below written by Kevin Kelly about his one and only Denise.
It blew me away because it made me remember what romantic love is all about and I hope it does the same for you.
My Dad is the kind of guy who is constantly ripping and cutting articles out of newspapers and magazines and mailing them to people he thinks will appreciate what he has found. It drives my Mom crazy that he does this before she has even had a chance to read the paper or the magazine. But after 60 years of marriage, my father continues to clip away in his own little world.
When I saw my Dad this past weekend for Father's Day, he had a column that he had recently cut from a newsletter and he handed it to me and said, "I know you think you're too old to be told anything, but I thought you would enjoy this column. You've probably already read it but it's the kind of thing that everyone needs to be reminded about. Just think about it."
I did think about it and my Dad was right. This column below is a good basic reminder about how to navigate the ups and downs of that magical ride we call life. For anyone who is sad, confused or frustrated about what is going on in their life right now, this column, which was written almost 25 years ago, may help you reset yourself and start again with a fresh outlook:
All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten
By Robert Fulghum
All I really need to know about how to live and what to do and how to be I learned in kindergarten. Wisdom was not at the top of the graduate-school mountain, but there in the sandpile at Sunday School. These are the things I learned:
-- Share everything.
-- Play fair.
-- Don't hit people.
-- Clean up your own mess.
-- Don't take things that aren't yours.
-- Say you're sorry when you hurt somebody.
-- Wash your hands before you eat.
-- Flush.
-- Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.
-- Live a balanced life -- learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work every day some
-- Take a nap every afternoon.
-- When you go out into the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands and stick together.
-- Be aware of wonder. Remember the little seed in the styrofoam cup: The roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody really knows how or why but we are all like that.
-- Goldfish and hamsters and white mice and even little seeds in the styrofoam cup--they all die. So do we.
-- And remember the Dick-and-Jane boks and the first word you learned -- the biggest word of all -- LOOK.
Everything you need to know is in there somewhere. The Golden Rule and the love and basic sanitation. Ecology and politics and equality and sane living.
Take any one of those items and extrapolate it inoto sophisticated adult terms and apply it to your family life or your work or your government or your world and it holds true and clear and firm. Think what a better world it would be if we all -- the whole world -- had cookies and milk bout three o'clock every afternoon and then lay down with our blankies for a nap. Or if all governments had as a basic policy to always put things back where they found them and to clean up their own mess.
And it is still true -- no matter how old you are -- when you go out into the world, it is best to hold hands and stick together.
How do you try to take care of someone when they don't want you to?
I'm sure you must know a person you care about and perhaps even love who doesn't want you to help them even though it is obvious that help is very much needed. You understand the frustration right? It's the frustation of no matter how hard you try to offer various kinds of support, you never are able to do the right thing, the thing that will make them happy.
This is what I know I can do: I call on the telephone, I listen, I try to empathize. I visit as much as I can because nothing beats seeing someone in person. I offer to run errands. I bring food so the person won't have to cook and I clean while I'm in their house.
I think listening is the most important thing I can do because everyone knows that the more a person expresses his/her feelings, the better they feel. There's no point in trying to get them to open up if they're not ready or willing to talk.
Most of all, I try to maintain a calm demeanor.
This is what I don't do: I don't offer suggestions. I don't offer anything that could be viewed as a solution. I don't ask too many questions. I don't intrude into the other person's personal business. I don't react to negative comments.
It's a constant balancing act but I care about this person so I keep striving to maintain the balance.
Last week a childhood friend of my father's died. They had known each other since they were in grade school and met each other while playing on the black top when they were about seven or eight years old. They both went on to attend the same high school, playing basketball, and later both went into the insurance business working for different companies.
Over the years, they stayed in touch with each other as best they could. They both worked very hard while trying to raise large Irish Catholic families. My father and mother had six children and my Dad's friend and his wife had eight children. Our families didn't really mix, not because we didn't want to, but more because the ages of the children were different we didn't live close to their neighborhood and there basically was just too much stuff going on to try and coordinate anything.
When you have known someone for as long as my Dad and his friend knew each other it is hard to let go. My Dad knew that his friend was not well but didn't know how sick he was until he received the news of his friend's death. One way to keep the person connected to you is write a letter to the person now deceased. I don't think this is morbid. In fact, I think it's very healthy.
The person who died is someone who had an important place in your life. The person is physically gone but the friendship is still there. Sharing memories -- whether it's through writing a letter or talking to others about this person -- is a healthy way to process your feelings of grief and to establish to yourself that the friendship or perhaps love in other cases, is still there and will always be.
Now my Dad is writing a letter to his friend's widow and their adult children about his special friendship with this man and it is bringing back a lot of great memories for him which he hopes will also be a comfort in the days and years ahead as they and my Dad work through their loss.
Don't ever unestimate the importance of a note written from the heart. After my husband died, I received cards from people who worked with my husband or were friends with him and some wrote notes to me about how they knew him and their experiences with him. I saved those cards because those notes were like little pieces of a puzzle that was my husband. Sometimes the stories caught me by surprise and other times I only knew the story from my husband's point of view and the handwritten note reveal a different side of him to me.
Let me be honest, sometimes the stories weren't always the best but either way, the notes were part of dealing honestly and openly with our feelings of grief and trying to find comfort in reaching out and sharing.
Stories are constantly written about why we should strive to unplug from our computers, ipads, Smartphones and other electronic devices but I read a work colleague's Facebook post yesterday and was reminded of how amazing social media truly is.
I work with a young guy named Aaron Knights and he was at the incredibly tender age of seven when his beloved father died from cancer at the age of 38. Think about that for a minute. Think about what you were like when you were seven. The idea of losing a parent at that stage of your life is profound and pretty scary, right?
They say that when you have a child you sometimes end up reliving moments of your own childhood in the process of raising your own child. Now, Aaron's daughter is seven years old and Aaron said she is asking Aaron a lot of questions about his Dad and she wants to know things like: What was he like? Was he funny? What would you two do together?
Aaron added that recently he was putting his daughter to bed and they were talking about what happened at school when spontaneously, in only the way a seven-year-old could, his daughter directly said to him, "I wish your Daddy didn't get sick and die. I wish there was no sickness in the world. . .ever!"
Aaron said he tries to be as honest with his daughter as he can (I would be crying) but he only has so many stories that he remembers of his wonderful Dad because he was so young when his Dad died. He wanted more stories for himself and for his daughter and he posted on Facebook a simple query about how he misses his Dad every day and asked people who might have known his Dad to share their memories with him and his daughter.
Social media does offer vast human connections which can be impersonal but are also immediate. At last count, Aaron received more than 75 responses to his question about his Dad which to me is amazing!
Without Facebook, Aaron would have had to sit down and write emails or letters or made telephone calls and then waited for something to arrive in the mail or someone to call back.
Talking about a loved one who has died is good for everyone who knew the person because the conversations and the sharing of memories continues to connect you to that person you lost. You are also passing along or even trying to recreate that person so that others who never had a chance to get to know the person feel in some way that they too do know this loved one who meant so much.
My son and I always talk about his Dad, some of the weird things he would do or say and also some of the wonderful and treasured things he achieved as a writer and a reporter. I talk to my friends about him too and they sahre their stories with me. It just makes us feel better and we never tire of it. He may not be with us physically but he will never leave our hearts.
Aaron did an extraordinary thing by posting his request for stories about his Dad on Facebook. He was opening himself up to stories he might never have heard before and even though he wanted those stories, he knew it would be painful to hear them because it would make him miss his Dad even more. But he chose to get a dialogue going and help his daughter understand what her grandfather was like.
Friendships, no matter what your age, are healing and can help you maintain your mental balance. Friends connect you to the dynamics of life and all it has to give. Friends keep me going and remind me what life is truly about. Hashing the ups and down of life cements my friendships, for they help me try to make sense -- or least laugh -- at what has happed to me or to them.
It's always great to make new friends but there is something about the chemistry of an old friendship that is fascinating to me. Friends who have known each other for years can be similiar to a good marriage: they can finish each other's sentences, they let go of the things that don't matter and they just enjoy the company of each other.
Check out these two older gents who have a great friendship. All I can say is I love their attitude towards life and they are a riot:
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.
I know this picture is a bit on the grainy side, but I really liked the sentiment of the saying:
"It's your road, and yours alone.
Others may walk it with you, But no one can walk it for you."
It would be nice if someone could take our place and walk on our road for awhile; perhaps making it less painful.
Wouldn't that be nice?
But we don't know where our road is going to take us, do we? I believe that my road has been painful but it also has been a road full of love, laughter and many other blessings.
I'm excited to see what may be down the road for me this year!!
I'd love to hear from you about your road and what it had brought you and what you hope it brings you this year!!
This past weekend I met up with three of my best girlfriends to celebrate my recent birthday.
I have known these special women for decades and we have been through a lot with each other and for each other. Birthdays, weddings, funerals, break-ups, new jobs, new houses, vacations -- we have been through it all!
The beauty of being friends for a long time is that you don't have to explain everything. One person can mention a certain situation or a person's name and we know right away what that means. We know the things that make us laugh and the things that drive us crazy.
We always celebrate each other's birthdays and this time we went to a small French cafe in Georgetown for brunch. It was misty and rainy outside and the inside of the restaurant was quiet and cozy. No one was in a hurry and we settled in for a few hours and just enjoyed each other's company.
What a treat!!!!
Each one of my friends is a treasure and I love all of my girlfriends. Real friends are made one at a time and sometimes through a shared activity. I have some special friends I have gotten to know because our sons went to school together and I have other friends I have made through work and volunteering. They are the butter on my bread, the icing on my cupcakes. They are the people that I cry, laugh and heal with.
All of them add that extra special something that makes me pause and say to myself, "I am lucky to know her and have her as a friend."
I find that my friends provide a layer of protection against life's setbacks and disasters. I try to comfort and listen to their ups and downs as they do for me. A true friend is a connection to life.
Friends care about what is going on in your life and with them you can always be yourself. You can spill out your thoughts, even when they don't make any sense, and your friends take the time to figure it all out and make you feel that it's okay. Or in my case, sometimes my friends put me back on the right track when I have lost my way....Thank goodness for that!!!!!
I need hugs and smiles and laughter. I think we all do.
When we isolate ourselves, we lose an essential connection to people and psychologists report that cutting yourself off from people can make you sick because you keep all of your feelings and thoughts locked inside and your body can't take it. Your immune system can become compromised and other conditions such as heart disease can develop.
Thank you my special, extraordinary friends and my great readers for being there and for being your wonderful selves!!!
As the saying goes, you have to be a friend to have a friend!!!!
Re-reading my first Cry, Laugh Heal post from 2010 for Monday's edition brought all the crazy grieving feelings back to me: exhaustion, numbness, raw emotions, the scary future and sometimes even laughter!
But it also reminded how great my support group was during that time and how it gave me hope and helped me feel that life really would get better even though my husband died. As I met with my small group twice a month, some sessions were upsetting and some were comforting but eventually I felt less alone and stronger about myself and my murky future.
There's a very good reason why they are called support groups: they are set-up to give that extra boost of support needed to help you handle a life crisis and the people in the group have been in your situation.
The philosophy of most support groups is this: we have been there, we know how you feel, and you can lean on us until you feel stronger. Whether it's grief, alcoholism, drug abuse or any other condition where people reach out for help, those who have experienced it are part of the group and lend a helping hand by giving back to those trying to figure out how to deal with their crisis and the more experienced people pass along how life can be lived in a different way.
For me, that was the secret weapon of my support group. The leaders of my group had lost spouses, raised children, and rebuilt their lives. I had no idea how they had done it but I was there hanging on to every word, reading every bit of material and drawing all of the strength that I could from them because I told myself that if they could do it then so could I.
We were bound by our common loss and our discussions, which usually lasted for about two hours, were supportive and healing. People in my group were newly widowed and had the opportunity to talk about all the issues surrounding their spouse's death, things that they didn't feel comfortable discussing with even their family or friends. The getting it out, the expression of emotion truly was a huge help.
I remember at my first meeting I was nervous because I didn't know what to expect. We went around the table and introduced ourselves and I thought I would be fine until it came to telling why we were there. I started to cry and couldn't stop. But it was okay. Everyone was quiet and waited for me. I finally got through my story and when I was finished there was such understanding. It was so reassuring to me!!!!
I could only belong to my support group for two years and while this support group worked me, joining a support group may not be for everyone. Many people prefer the privacy of one-on-one talks and that is wonderful too. I tried one-on-one chats for a few months until I was ready to join my support group. A wonderful and compassionate woman from the support group would regularly call me on the phone and we would talk for about an hour. I can't tell you how helpful it was to have that support! Having someone listen and then having her tell me what she did after her husband died was such a gift. To this day, I treasure those conversations.
You are not alone and you don't need to bear your loss all by yourself. I found my support group at the local hospital but you could also ask your family doctor or a trusted friend.
Please don't be afraid to take the first step. There are lots of helping hands waiting for you!
Since it's all about being positive, I thought the following sentiments would be a good way to start the day! A friend saw it on one of her friend's Facebook page and it's definitely worth sharing:
Someone once said, "There comes a time in your life, when you walk away from all the drama and
people who create it.
You surround yourself with people who make you laugh. Forget the bad, and focus on the good. Love the people who treat you right, pray for the ones who don't.
Life is too short to be anything but happy. Falling down is a part of life, getting back up is living."
