The focus of this month’s newsletter is Grief. Grief is defined by Webster-Merriam as “deep sadness caused especially by someone's death”. Until the death of my son, I never really understood how difficult grief is and how deep the sadness can be. As the first article states, “Grief is hard. IT HURTS.” As pointed out in the remaining articles... grief can be complicated; grief can be positive; grief can make you feel like you’re crazy and grief can be a teacher. The lessons we learn as we struggle to survive our grief are many and are often coupled with battle scars and knowledge that we wish we didn’t have. My hope today is that you can somehow find comfort and always remember the love.
Grief never ends… But it changes. It’s a passage, not a place to stay. Grief is not a sign of weakness, nor a lack of faith… It is the price of love.
- Darcie Sims
~Diane Gillen
Missing Our Angels
Grief is hard. IT HURTS.
We lose people, marriages, relationships, jobs, health, homes, financial solvency, and so on. Whatever the loss, we grieve.
Why does grief hurt so much? There are many reasons. Here are seven.
Firstly a little bit about me and my story although I so wish this story was that of fiction but, unfortunately it’s not.
My wife Helen and I met in April 2006 and once we had become an item there was no stopping us. We moved in together later that year in Oct 2006 and were engaged in the Dec. We married in July 2007 and our first baby was born a year later. We were happy, just starting our lives together, in love and life was perfect.
Then in 2009 just a few days after our daughters 1st birthday and 3 months pregnant with our second child our lives were to change forever when Helen was diagnosed with breast cancer.
As a kid, our most inner desire is to be accepted and fit in with those around us. Get rejected enough and that desire becomes a shield against life's cruelty. Some bury that desire and eventually have no need to fit anywhere. Others will search all their lives for that acceptance. The world is cruel to anyone who is different yet it is that very difference that makes us who we are, who we will become. Death of our loved one brings us back to the beginning. We have to start at ground zero. We no longer know who we are or even who we might want to be. It is a profound change that is hard for others to grasp, so rejection starts. Peoples reactions to us when we are deep in our grief have a lot to do with cementing the changes that are happening within us. There are bits and pieces of us scattered all around and as we try to put the pieces back together, those around us will either help us pick them up or they will crush them beneath their feet. Even though it is time that will eventually decide the direction we go, the people in our world will be the foundation on which part of our rebuilding will be based. We are searching for Nirvana, a place to rest our aching soul to sooth our broken heart. Fitting in with the world is not part of our new agenda.
I have not given up, even though I want to most days. Those who call my grief complicated or morbid are wrong. It's just grief. For some, perhaps, it goes away. From what I have read and heard, for most it quiets down, the contours of grief change. But does it end? Not in my life. In my life every morning - and every waking minute - and then every sleeping minute I am conscious of my grief. As much as I feel him with me spiritually - even talking with him and hearing what he whispers back to me in my heart, he is not HERE - he cannot come back HERE and HERE with me is where I want him.
The Need to Honor
I have learned to create a space for everything that comes my way in life, whether good or bad. After my 18-year-old daughter Jeannine died in March of 2003 as a result of cancer, I tried to suppress or distract myself from the seemingly endless wave of intense pain that permeated the core of my very being. I discovered that no matter how hard I tried, the pain just kept resurfacing. I think trying to suppress the pain of loss is like trying to suppress a beach ball in a tub of water. After a certain amount of time that beach ball will come to the surface. Suppressed pain eventually comes to the surface, demanding to be experienced and demanding to be transformed. Once I discovered this truth, I was able to honor my pain because of the opportunities for spiritual growth and self-discovery that were created because of its presence.
Thank you for reading this edition of our newsletter. It is our goal to make it a regular publication and to use it to keep you in touch with topics dealing with grief and loss. When it comes to dealing with grief, it can be a challenge to find the resources we need to educate ourselves and our loved ones on what is happening and how to best keep going forward. We will try to keep future issues as informative and interesting as we can. We encourage all of our readers to contact us with thoughts, comments, suggestions or contributions. We would love to hear from you!
We here at The Grief Toolbox understand that needs change as we go from the raw encompassing pain of the first year to the stark reality of the second year, and then to the growth and reinventing ourselves of the middle years to the acceptance and blessing that now coexists with the pain and love that will always be a part of our life. We cannot make your pain go away, nor can we provide answers for you. What we can do is help you to find the tools that you need to work through your grief journey.