Love

The Great, Great Gift

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In Facebook yesterday, Kelly’s Treehouse posted:  “If you know someone who has lost a very important person in their life and you’re afraid to mention them because you might make them sad by reminding them that they died—you’re not reminding them, they didn’t forget that they died. What you are reminding them of is that you remembered that they lived, and that is a great, great gift.”

I loved Kelly’s sentiment and thought my Grief Transformation Tribe would like to see this thought, so I shared the post not thinking of me. But much to my delight, I heard back from people! Vickie Christy-Stricklind said:“Roger and I were sharing a story about Jacques a few days ago.” This reminded me of many memories of Jacques and how he loved performing and hanging out with the theatre crowd, and it made me smile.

Karyn Shaudis said: “I remember the last time I saw Ron. He was standing in front of Trader Joe’s. He was talking on his cell phone and looking fine with his big smile he tipped his hat to me. I can still see him there each time I pull into that lot.” I could picture that so clearly. Ron was always on his phone, and he had a big beautiful smile, and that tipping of his hat was so him! Rev Ron performed Karyn and Jim’s wedding ceremony, and thinking of that and the other weddings Ron did, especially Isabel and Gina, brought me joy. He was serious about love and loving and making sure people were really in love when they got married. I know we were.

So this holiday season, think of how happy you can make someone you know by sending them a remembrance of someone they loved who died. Remember they lived. Remember their joy. And remember the joy they brought to you. This great, great gift may bring a few tears, but those tears of the memory of joy are so sweet!

Thanksgrieving

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We all grieve. Everyone loses someone or something critical, and those losses come back to remind us of our grief on the holidays. We can choose to deep dive into that grief and be miserable, or we can choose to do something with those memories that can bring us joy.

I choose joy. While I cherished being with my loved ones for the holidays, now I find others to make the holidays special. On Thanksgiving, I invite people to join me who don’t have someplace to go. I get the pleasure of preparing a big Thanksgiving dinner with my son Jason’s help. He loves to cook the turkey. I fix mostly the menu my family always did. And to remember my loved ones who won’t be joining us, I fix something special for each of them.

Thanksgiving was Jacques’ very favorite holiday, so the turkey is special to remember him by. I always cook it in a Reynolds turkey cooking bag to keep it nice and juicy. Even though I’m vegetarian, I know my guests aren’t. My mother-in-law Fran was famous for her cornbread stuffing, so we have to have that! Mom always made what she called Waldorf salad that was just bananas, apples, walnuts, and mayonnaise. I make that for her, though I frequently the only one who eats it (and I love it!). I make sweet potatoes for me! I just wrap them in foil and put them in the oven with the turkey. And for dessert, Ron had to have apple pie. Of course, he wanted apple pie for every holiday, and any other day in between. And when Abby, my daughter, joins us, we have to have cherry pie.  I made it one year on Washington’s birthday, and she wants it for every holiday since them. If you don’t have a big dinner, have something special just for you, even it’s your mother’s jello salad or your own pumpkin pie.

The best part of the day is when everybody says what they are thankful for before we eat. Focusing on gratitude is what the holiday is all about. You can do this on your own, too.  On Thanksgiving Day, I like to do a whole journal entry on what I am grateful for. My list just keeps getting longer. Before I started creating gratitude lists, I found that I was finding ways to feel sorry for myself and being alone. Focusing on the negative didn’t help at all. So the more I wrote gratitude lists, the better I felt. Now every day I include thing I am grateful for in my journal every day.

At the end of the day, I can just feel my departed loved ones being grateful that I am remembering them with joy on Thanksgivin

Paradise Lost

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Growing up in central California, I heard of a town named Paradise, and I wanted to live there. I looked it up in the library and saw that it was a beautiful town with majestic trees. I loved the idea of getting out of the heat in the high desert where I lived and moving to an idyllic small town. This was a consistent fantasy of mine as I grew up. Now Paradise is gone.

In a moment, homes, businesses, vehicles, and people melted in the flames. Cherished personal possessions turned to ash. What once was most important lost significance to now when life, when living through the horror, is all that matters.

I moved from Ventura, California, three years ago to Maui, my paradise now. I watched from a distance last year as a huge fire raged through Ventura county. My friends were evacuated. The home where I lived when I was there was evacuated. Houses we had considered when we were looking for a new home there burned to the ground, along with homes of friends. Now another fire is barreling though Ventura and Malibu counties.

In an instant, thousands of people lose all their material possessions. All these fires make me reflect on what I would grab on the way to run from a fire, and I realize all I would grab is whoever is there with me in that moment. The stuff doesn’t matter. I would know that my loved ones know how much I love them. I realize that I am living my best life, and I am grateful for every moment.

What would you take? What is most important to you right now? Are you living your best life? If not, start night now. If you are, that’s the best news I’ve heard today! And I am grateful.

As Time Goes By

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This morning Michelle asked me if we ever stop grieving. I responded that we don’t, but it does soften into a beautiful part of our lives instead of a constant pain.

When each of my husbands died, I lost track of space and time, and I don’t remember how long that lasted. Gradually, time started creeping back in to perspective. I would have an appointment to go to or pressing business that had to be attended, so slowly I became aware of time. I began to remember what day of the week it was. As odd as that sounds to me now, I realize I was out of sync with the world around me.

At first, I would think to myself, he died four days ago, or last week, or twelve days ago. Then I realized I was counting in weeks. I remembered when my babies were little and their short lives we measured first in days, then weeks, then months, and eventually years. That’s how it goes after the death of a loved one, too. 

On September eighth of this year, I realized that I hadn’t thought about September 4 which would have been thirteen months since Ron left. At first I felt guilty at my failure to remember. After I beat myself up a little, I woke up and knew that I haven’t forgotten him, that I had just started expanding my life to think of something else too, and that was good.

My father died in 1989. Although that was almost thirty years ago, I still grieve him, but gently. Veteran’s Day, November 11, was always his favorite holiday as he fought in World War II and was very active in the Veterans of Foreign Wars. So every time I see someone with a VFW cap on or see a buddy poppy or hear that national anthem, I remember my Dad, how proud he was, and how proud I was of him. This is a softer kind of grief. When you can reflect on your loved one and smile, and instead of pain, you remember love.

The fresher your grief, the more your heart aches. And as time goes by, that ache will transform to a smile. 

Holidays and Grief

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Holidays present a special challenge to those grieving. Especially hard are the first ones that come by for the first time after a loved one departs. I realized that I was just ignoring the season when my first Christmas came. I had made the effort to create a Christmas card with a drawing I had done on the front, and I expressed inside the gratitude I had for all those who had supported me this year. Writing the card itself was challenging because I wanted to say just the right thing.

I know lots of people have stopped sending out cards, but for me it was a way to reach out to all those I care about.  I made a long list and sent lots of cards. In the love and work I put into the cards, I was hoping people would notice that I was reaching out for support. But they didn’t.  I got very few cards this year.  I assume that everyone is busy and they feel Christmas cards are a nuisance, but they weren’t to me. I did write a reply to every card I received, and I learned that just because something is important to me doesn’t me that anyone else will call.  I do not believe that anyone was trying to be hurtful.

So, on Christmas Day I was sitting alone, remembering the huge family gatherings that we had when I was growing up.  My mom had three living sisters and a brother and they would take turns as to who would host Christmas. There was not much money between us all, but we still had wonderful celebrations with lots of food, games, and love. I looked at my Facebook and noticed that members of grief groups were posting heavily that day, and most of them had the same feeling, that they were not invited. When I thought about that, I remember the first Christmas after Jacques, who I was with for 23 years, had died. Though his family dropped by for a short visit, I was basically by myself, and in tears, and thinking who would want to be around this crybaby dragging their Christmas down. As I thought that this year, I could hear my Ron, who I was with for 10 years, say to me, “Now how does thinking that serve you.” That woke me up. What could I do to improve the situation?

The first thing I did was to make a list of everyone who I could think of who may be alone that day or may have had a recent loss or tragedy in their family. The I wrote an individual note to each of them to send by email, by messenger, or by regular mail. I expressed my love and support and suggested we get together for the next holiday if possible at least by phone or mail since I live so far away from everyone else in the world!  Then I went farther and wrote a note to each one I noticed in the grief groups online who felt alone that day. I told them they had a virtual friend and that frequently people don’t have any idea what to say to people who are grieving so that if there is someone they needed to hear from, they could try to reach out first.

I didn’t hear back from many people, and that was OK.  At least I reminded them that I am alive, and that I would love to stay involved with my family and friends. The next holiday will be better, and I know I’ll find more people to reach out to then.