Grief

Who cares who is watching?

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When I was growing up, I was always doing things to impress my parents, to see if they were watching. Most times they didn’t. After I left home, I would do things to impress my husband to see if he was watching, but generally he wasn’t impressed. Then I started doing things that I could share to impress people at my class reunions, but they didn’t care much either. When I married Jacques, he did notice what I did and shared with me how much he appreciated me. I knew he was watching, and that was a much more positive inspiration to do good things.

After Jacques died, I began to feel like everybody was watching me, wondering what I would do next, afraid to get too close for fear of dealing with the subject of death. I felt like everyone was judging me, waiting to see if I was being a good widow. I know how absurd that sounds, but in grief, we aren’t always rational. I recall one time when a gentleman friend offered to accompany me to an event I didn’t want to attend alone, not as a date but as a friend. I actually heard people say that it was much too soon for me to be dating. I guess widows are just supposed to stay home and grieve forever.

As I reflected on all this, I realized that what I did or said was no one else’s business, just as what they said or did was not my business. I realized I was judging them, and they were judging me. That hit me hard. As I journaled and meditated about that, I realized that the most important thing for me to do at that time was to release all judgment, my judgment of anyone as well as my judgment of myself. And I did. And it felt like a miracle happened. Every time I felt myself start to slip, I would smile and recognize that I didn’t need to judge, and I didn’t need to pay attention to judgement, so I just focused on what was positive instead. I would forgive myself and move forward. It took a little time, but the more I released, the lighter I felt.

I now live in a judgement free zone. I focus on what is beautiful and good, on what is positive and filled with joy. I only pay attention to what I love about others, about me, and whatever happens. And my life is pretty fabulous. I encourage you to examine your thinking. Do you spend your time on the negative or the positive? I guarantee, the more positive you are, the more wonder and joy will discover.

 

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What Are We Doing?

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When I was talking to Saundy the other day, she was expressing her distress about the children being held at the border. She wants to do something, but she feels helpless. I thought about her comments when I heard about the shootings this weekend. What can we do? Are we actually helpless?

In situations like these, many of us grieve, piling experiences up until we either become overwhelmed by them or become numb by them. Either of these reactions don’t serve us, so what does?

The answer can come from us focusing together on love. The people who are committing these atrocities are generally working in isolation. When we read about them, we usually discover that they are loners seeking attention. They get inspired by people who espouse hate and gain much recognition from negativity. In an attempt to become idolized and recognized, they step on to a lonely stage not realizing that there are no positive outcomes once they cross that negative line of abomination.

So how can love change this? I have written before about how there are only two emotions: love and fear. Everything stems from these two. In order to make positive changes, releasing fear and focusing on love is essential. Studies have been done that show that when many people focus on love when dealing with a situation at the same time world wide, positive change happens not only in relation to acts of violence, but also in things like accidents and health emergencies. While this might seem unrealistic to you, try putting it I to action in your life.

Upon reflection, I can see how negatively and fear of death severely affected Jacques’ last couple of years. People stopped coming around, and loneliness and pain was heart breaking. Everything was different when Ron transitioned. We spent our time focusing on the joy in each moment. We were surrounded by love with laughter, friends, and music.

When we all decide to focus our lives on love, we will witness change. Instead of focusing the negativity of what’s happening in our government and society, try focusing on sending love and forgiveness to those who we see as the enemy or the problem. Instead of focusing on complaining about what politicians are doing, focus on finding something they do that is positive. For instance, instead of writing a letter complaining of the treatment of families and children at the border, write about how wonderful it will be for families to be reunited when the problems are solved that created the situation.

While this may sound naive, actually, this is the behavior that can create the change we are desiring. I encourage you to remember the words to John Lennon’s song Imagine.

“… Imagine all the people …. living for today…nothing to kill or die for … living life in peace….
I hope someday you’ll join us and the world will be as one.”

Let’s commit right now to focusing on peace and love. We can do this. Together we can change the world!

 

Take a class from Emily!

Birthdays

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Birthdays can be a big challenge. Ron’s Birthday was last week, and it really hit me hard. I thought of his big party we had to celebrate his 70th. We lived very close to a place where we could make our own wine, so months before the party we started creating our wine so it was ready to bottle on his birthday. We invited everyone to come help us and our granddaughter’s jazz trio entertained us while we ate cake, then we all walked to our house for a fabulous Greek dinner. What great time we had! 

My birthday was a week before he died. He was in the hospital and I had been staying with him to help with his care around the clock. On the day of my birthday, he insisted that I go home to shower and had Shena pick me up because I was too tired to drive. Instead of taking me to the hospital, she took me to my favorite restaurant where all our friends were waiting for a birthday party for me. He and Shena had been planned it for me before he ended up in the hospital. It was beautiful, but I just wanted to be back with him. 

His birthday this time made me remember about how we always made our birthdays special for each other, a time to celebrate our lives and our love. Soon it will be my 70th, and I keep thinking how much I wish we could celebrate it together. And I think we will. I will have cake and flowers and a glass of wine like we would have shared, and I will revel in the sweet memories of our special times together while I also realize how far I have come. I am in a good place now, and I know he wanted that for me. 

Love lasts forever, and birthdays are a regular time to reflect and be grateful for all we shared.

 

Be sure to sign up for our closed Facebook group, Reclaiming Your Joy After Loss. This group is just for people like you! And you can sign up for my classes! 

Guilty!

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Do you feel guilty related to your grief? Don’t be surprised if you do. Just about everyone who grieves also feels guilt related to who died, what caused the death, or the grieving afterward. No emotion has caused me more pain, or amplified my loss more than guilt. Guilt is just part of what we do. If we don’t have something to feel guilty about, we are good at creating it. Check out this list and see if any of the examples are something you feel, and there is good news.  You can do something about it!

  • The last thing you thought about your loved one was negative and you didn’t get a chance to change your thinking.
  • The last thing you said was hurtful or negative and you didn’t get a chance to apologize.
  • You didn’t insist that your loved one got treatment some enough.
  • You couldn’t seem to do anything about treatment you thought was wrong or harmful.
  • You didn’t visit your loved one often enough or spend enough time.
  • You didn’t do something you said you would.
  • You weren’t there at the time of death.You didn’t come right away when you were called.
  • You didn’t notice when there was something wrong you could have done something about.
  • You survived your loved one’s death.
  • You were happy or felt relieved about the death.
  • You were angry at God.

This list is by no means comprehensive. We can experience or make up all kinds of things to feel guilty about. The thing to keep in mind here is that guilt implies an intent to harm. If any action you did or thought you had was not done with an intention of harming your loved one, you are not guilty. Guilt implies that you failed at something or did something wrong, and most of the items on the list above don’t fall into that category. So as you reflect on the guilt you feel, see if it is about something that isn’t bad or wrong at all.

Has someone told you not to feel guilty? That really doesn’t help. I know that when someone tell tells me how not to feel, I am most likely to feel whatever they say that much more! So when someone says that, just smile and say thank you, then ignore what they said. But sometimes you are guilty, and if that is the case, you do need to deal with that. If you really did make a mistake like giving someone the wrong medicine that lead to their death, or you were driving drunk and had an accident leaving someone you loved to die, those are legitimate reasons for feeling guilty. Getting help from a counselor, minister, or grief group is essential in cases like these.

Our brains like order. When things are out of order in our lives, we tend to try to create things to get back on track. Consider this when you are looking at things you feel guilty about. When you realize what it is that bring you guilt, examine that and see if realistically there actually was something you could have changed, something you could have done differently. In Will Smith’s movie Seven Pounds, he suffered tremendous guilt after using his cell phone while driving lead to the death of his wife. The movie is how he dealt with that guilt. What he chose was extreme making for an interesting movie, but you don’t have to be dramatic. You may discover a path to doing something wonderful to help you through your feelings and get things back into order. Candy Lightner’s daughter was killed by a drink driver, so Candy decided to create something that would prevent others from suffering the way she did. Candy is the founder of Mothers Against Drunk Drivers. What could you do or create that would give you something positive to focus on?

In your memory of the experience that led to your grief, is it true? This may seem like a strange question. You say, “Of course my experience was true!” But was it, all of it, really? For instance, when you tell a close friend of your experience, do you say the same thing that you would say to your employer, your mail delivery person, or your daughter? Sometimes we shift the focus of the story we tell and add or leave out details. So which story is the truth? In creating a variety of stories, you may start feeling quilt when you realize how different they end up being. The solution for this is to stay in truth and focus on the positive.  Are there things you would have liked to have done before your loved one died? I would have loved to have spent more quality time with my mother before she died. We hadn’t spent a lot of time together throughout my whole life, and after she died, I realized how much I had missed. I knew more about my grandmother than my mom. If I had it to do over again, I would have gone way back in time and been a better daughter to her, but that couldn’t happen, and feeling guilty that I couldn’t change anything did not serve me. I had to accept the situation, integrate it into my life by being a better mother, friend, or sister now while a can, then move one with my life.

This leads to all those things that you could have, should have, would have done that didn’t happen. Maybe you could have had a standing date each week with your loved one to catch up. Maybe you could have insisted that your mother get her financial affairs in order. Maybe you would have been nicer to your friend had you known he was going to die suddenly. Maybe you would have been a better wife, brother, friend, employee, or whatever roles you played. Think of all you should have, could have, would have and realize that there is nothing you could do about any of those things now, so speeding time with them does not serve you. Do decide now what you can and will do, then do these things. That will help you release all those old, negative thoughts.

Perhaps your relationship with your loved one wasn’t always rosy and you fall into dwelling on the bad times. Guilt can run wild with telling you that you weren’t good enough, that you shouldn’t have raised your voice. I went through a period where I kept replaying things Ron said that I didn’t like. He would sometimes criticize me in front of others, and that drove me crazy. A friend pointed out an example of that to me, and I dwelled on it for a few days. Now this isn’t something that happened all the time and he was generally supportive of me, and I know he thought he was being supportive when he would say something like that. I dealt with it by focusing on all the good things in our relationship and realizing that no harm was intended. Then I had to let it go. Stewing about things past would never change anything or bring me joy, and realizing that allowed me to keep things in perspective and move on.

Consider these factors as you explore the guilt that you may feel:

  • Guilt is normal. Don’t let others minimize it.
  • You are not alone. Everybody feels guilt at some time.
  • Is the guilt you are feeling the truth? If yes, admit it and deal with it. If not, let it go.
  • Are you being rational? You can’t control someone else’s addiction or mental illness, Alzheimer’s, cancer, or anything else.
  • Think about who you can talk to about your guilt, then talk to whoever it is. A friend, counselor, group, minister?
  • Forgive yourself.
  • Do something positive to assuage your guilt.
  • Think about what your loved one would say about your guilt.
  • Find something good to dwell on
  • What has your guilt taught you?
  • Make restitution if there is a way to.
  • Know that you can feel good and bad or happy and sad at the same time.

When Ron came home from the hospital the last time, we had arranged for a hospital bed in a spare room that had a bathroom where it would be easiest for the caregivers to take care of him. I am sure he would have preferred to come home to our bed, but there just wasn’t room for all he required and for the care givers to move around him. I was exhausted having stayed up with him, helping with his care around the clock for the last week. After we got him settled, I went into our bedroom and just crashed. I could not stay awake. That night I had a dream that he came into the bedroom to wake me up so we could talk. In the dream, his care giver was standing in the doorway. The next day, I told him about the dream, and he told me that it wasn’t a dream.  He just wanted to snuggle with me in our bed one last time. I was devastated. He was never able to return to our room, and I felt guilty about that for a long time. Rationally I know that I wasn’t physically able to change that moment. I stayed by his side for the rest of the week, sleeping on the floor, until he died. I think I will always have tears with this memory.

I’ll bet you feel guilty about something. Something you said or didn’t say. Something you did or didn’t do. Guilt can be a nasty enemy. You don’t need that enemy clinging on to you. Shake it off. Let it go. Do this by forgiving yourself. Say out loud or write it down: “I forgive me. I forgive me. I forgive you. I forgive us.” Say or write it as many times as you need to. Know in your heart that your forgiveness is done. It is accepted. It is real. And it feels so much better for that nasty creature to be booted out of your life! Kick it out now!

 

Times of Remembering

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On Memorial Day, my sweet neighbor Dawn brought me a bouquet of camellias and hydrangeas in remembrance of Ron. The camellias reminded me of the first day I visited Ron at his house and he picked me a beautiful camellia to put in my hair. He was so romantic. And that led us to talk of memories of Memorial Day. Ron and I always hosted a big bar-b-que. He made his famous ribs and chicken, and I cooked corn on the cob, potato salad, and peach cobbler and we invited everyone we knew. I miss those parties.

Now that I live in Hawaii, instead of having a bar-b-que, we celebrate Memorial Day by watching the Shinnyo Lantern Floating on television which takes place on Oahu.  This year was the 20thanniversary of this event that takes place on Ala Moana Beach. Families and friends honor their departed loved ones by decorating small lantern boats with the names, letters, poems, and flowers. Then the families wade out into the ocean to float the boats out into the bay. They have beautiful Hawaiian music and dancing combined with Japanese Buddhist Shinnyo-en traditions. Forty thousand people participate. After the lanterns float on the water for the evening, volunteers retrieve them to refurbish them to use again next year.

The touching part of the ceremony to me is how the presenters encourage the participants to discover their Shinnyo within to bless the community. On their website LaternFloatingHawaii.com, they define Shinnyo as:

“Shinnyo is reality, or the true nature of all things. It is the innate goodness, wisdom, and compassion inherently at the core of every living being. Shinnyo is the light that exists in all, without exception.

Shinnyo can also be understood as external forces, vibrant and infinite, that compassionaty lead us to moments of awakening – those serendipitous moments of feeling present and inspired. When we become aware of Shinnyo existing in and warmly encompassing us all, we can appreciate how interconnected we are.”

May we all remember our Shinnyo throughout the year by honoring our loved ones who have died and by supporting and loving the communities we live in.

Cocooning

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Cocooning is a time that all you can do is maybe sit at home in front of a fire, and that is OK. If you don’t want to go somewhere, don’t.  Be easy on yourself now because grief is unpredictable.

A few months before Ron transitioned, we were sitting on our lanai, Hawaiian for deck, in our beautiful back yard. We live on the side of Haleakala, a dormant volcano, that gently slopes down our yard vibrant with avocado, ficus, banana, and papaya trees and much tropical foliage including giant hibiscus and lilikoi plants. We frequently witnessed rainbows from this perch which appeared to be lower than we were allowing us to think that we lived romantically over the rainbow. Enjoying the gentle Trade Winds, orange and black butterflies were plentiful and would actually land on Ron as though they were attracted to him. He told me that there would come a time that every time I saw a butterfly or a rainbow or smelled the smoke of a cigar, which he relished every day, that I would know that he was near.

A few months after he was gone, I was feeling in a vacuum where time seemed to be standing still and I couldn’t connect with the world. Before I started being with Ron constantly because of his health, I loved doing ceramics. When we moved to Maui, he had a perfect studio built for me in our yard, but I couldn’t seem to go there to create.  I felt blank. I decided I had to do something, so I signed up for a ceramics class at the Hui No’eau art center in Makawao. The translation of Hui No’eau is “people coming together for a common purpose” for the development of artistic skill and the wisdom which derives from that expression.” This sounded to me like the perfect place to open my path to healing. When driving to class, I was surrounded by butterflies.  I have never seen so many butterflies in the same place. They floated around my car for literally miles, and unlike before when I have had butterflies or moths come to their ends against my car window or grill, not one stuck to the car. And of course, that week there were rainbows too.

This experience made me realize that what I had been doing was cocooning. We have a big Brugmansia plant in our yard which the common name for is Angel’s Trumpet. I had noticed that it had been covered with caterpillars that were yellow and black. I found it ironic that the butterflies which were also in my yard, had been created from the caterpillars eating the Angel’s Trumpet vines. I looked this process up, and it was different from what I had been told in school years ago.   What really happens is that the caterpillar sheds its skin and a protective shell called a chrysalis is formed.  Then everything inside the chrysalis turns into liquid that is similar to human stem cells. From this comes what are called imaginal cells which sounds to me like the imagination where new things come from.  Though there is no structural similarity between the caterpillar and the butterfly, these cells transform into beautiful butterflies.

I remember in one of Ron’s sermons he told the story of a person who noticed a chrysalis moving. That person assumes that the butterfly was working to emerge, so he decided to help.  But the process of breaking out of the chrysalis is crucial to building the strength of the butterfly so it can survive, and by the person helping this process along, the butterfly that emerged died. This made me think of my grief process.

For several months after Ron’s transition, I felt like that goo that forms during the transformation from the caterpillar to the butterfly. I felt like it was too hard to think, to eat, to walk, to read, or really to do anything. During this time, I recorded and watched many silly romantic movies I didn’t have to think about.  The plots were formulaic, and there was always a happy ending. The movies were actually just background noise.  If I stayed in silence or tried to listen to music, my monkey mind would run wild. The movies dulled the pain.  I could lie in bed and actually felt like I was being held. I see now that was like my own chrysalis, and that I had to go through this process to help me adjust or transition to my new life.

Everybody will experience this transition in their grieving process in their own ways. This is the time where you prepare for or develop the skills that will help you move forward. For some, this gestation is relatively brief. Others take a long time. The key is to recognize this is normal and to do what you need to so that you can take care of yourself. I would sit on my lanai or soak in my bathtub without putting any restrictions on me. This may be a time where you resist the change that you have been forced into. Everything can’t help but be different without your loved one in your life.  This was not something you can plan for or escape. Releasing into the process will ultimately help bring you peace and allow your butterfly to emerge. This is the time that your transformation occurs.

You will think new thoughts and do things differently than you ever have before. Know this is OK. As much as you would like to go on the way things were before, you can’t. Take this time to explore what to do now, and be patient with yourself.  This isn’t a time for a quick fix or a magical solution. Your grief does not disappear, but you will become used to it. You will assimilate it into your life so that it changes from being all encompassing to being a natural part of you. As you shed your old skin, you can shed your old habits that no longer serve you. You can grow and develop your new, beautiful, powerful wings.

Many refer to death as a transition, but you are going through a transition, too, and it may feel like you are dying. Actually, the old you is dying. The new you will have different hopes and dreams and desires. You may have the tendency to fight this transition as you would fight death if you are not ready, but that will only prolong the process. The most important part of the journey Ron and I shared was to commit to living in the moment. We dealt with any symptom that came up when it came up. We did not worry in advance about what would be happening next. And actually, I didn’t realize that he was really dying.  Our moments were so precious, sharing our love, having long wonderful talks or just sitting in silence enjoying the beauty of our surroundings.  His birthday was about a month before he left, and he was given the book Death of a King by Tavis Smiley which was the story of Martin Luther King’s last year. He wanted to read it, but he discovered that reading was difficult for him, so I read the entire book to him out loud.  Those are cherished moments. Time stood still as we were immersed in the greatness of this man. Having this experience helped me to stay in the moment as I was going through this cocooning process.  All I dealt with was how I was feeling or what was happening to me at that time, right then.  And living in the moment has allowed me to move forward one moment at a time.

Right now, think about what you can do that feels best to you. You may like to have a cup of tea, go for a walk, read a book, record and watch silly romance movies. Whatever it is, do it. Don’t judge yourself or your desires. I found myself putting together puzzles or playing Sudoku. The process of keeping occupied allowed me to not just sit and cry, although there is nothing wrong with that. Tears are cleansing, and I have certainly cried until my eyes feel dry. The key in not living in fear which is the opposite of love. Right now, love yourself. Fearing being alone or fearing your future does not serve you. Loving yourself unconditionally will always serve you.

This is the time to seek out a friend who has been through this process. Your friend may have experienced a different kind of loss, but everyone who grieves does go through a process of some form of cocooning. You may have lost a husband, while your friend has lost a mother. It doesn’t matter.  What matters is that you can support each other. I noticed that during this time after the deaths of both my husbands, friends mostly kept their distance. I assume that they didn’t know what to say or did not want to be dragged down into my despair. And I didn’t seem to be able to reach out to my friends. If the experience is similar for you, this may be the time you’d like to seek counseling. There are many counselors out there that specialize in grief, but I suggest you go to one who has actually experienced loss. The common experience can make all the difference in how helpful a counselor can be.

Cocooning can be so hard on your body and soul. Be aware of this, and take care of yourself during the process. Be sure to rest, to eat, and to exercise. And in the words of Dr. Alan B. Wolfelt, “Feelings have one ambition, to be felt.” So, feel what you feel. Love who you love. Grieve how you grieve. But most of all, be gentle with you.