Recently I was gifted with a 30-minute counseling session from a woman in Hawaii who has made it her life's purpose to help others find their life purpose. She began by asking me to share about myself. Being 53 years old, there is a lot to share and we only had 30 minutes, so I wasn't quite sure where to begin! She suggested I just begin. So I briefly shared my journey of the last 7 years which included cancer in 2002, getting married in 2004, the loss of my husband in 2005, and a bad accident in 2006. As I was sharing with her, my internal thought was WOW! that is a lot to have had happen in the span of 4 years!

I also shared with her my consternation that there was little, if any joy in my life. She asked me what it was I wanted for myself. I shared that the estate from my late husband had not been settled, but once it was settled, I would be in the position to buy my first house. I also shared that recently my job responsibilities had changed, and in effect, had been told that in 2 years I may or may not have a job. She and I discussed that I was in a unique position of being able to really create what I wanted, job-wise, without also being in the position of being out of work.

She then asked me to close my eyes and visualize the home I wanted, and the job I wanted, and to really see it and feel it. I did, and saw the perfect house, with great light, airy and spacious, with lots of room for guests, and a large modern kitchen for entertaining. The outside was beautifully landscaped and the large windows in the rooms really brought in the beautiful views of lush greenery and beautiful flowering plants. I also imagined the perfect job where my knowledge and experience were valued and respected, where I worked with a team of fun and knowledgeable people creating solutions for problems that we all had experience with, and knew the answers for. I was excited to do this work, and woke up highly motivated to get to work. I also made an insane amount of money doing exactly what I loved, such that money was not a worry at all. She asked what I was feeling. It was such a feeling of being blessed and such gratitude that I wanted to do more for others. She asked me to stay with the feelings and see if there was any thing else I felt. I realized I felt a little guilty that I had it so good.

This was not a new phenomenon for me.

I remembered that I had felt this way when my late husband was alive. I had a wonderful husband whom I loved dearly, a job that I loved, made great money such that he did not have to work, and thus could do whatever he wanted, (my gift to him) and in turn, he was so happy that he did a lot to make sure that I was happy. I came home to hot home-cooked meals, a clean house, laundry done, grocery shopping taken care of, yard maintained, and a man who was truly glad to see me at the end of the day! I was blessed. And I was grateful. He loved me in a way that I really got that I was loved. And I got the experience of truly loving a man, which is much different from the love for family or kids.

And you know what? This time I did not go into grief over what I had lost. This time what I really saw is this: It is possible to create what I want for myself that will bring me unsurpassed joy, blessings and appreciation. It will not happen over night, but I know it is possible. I've had it all, and I can have it all again. Call it what you will, faith.....trust...... fantasy..... I know it is possible, and I know it is mine to have however I create it.

This one phone conversation propelled me into seeing what is possible for my life. I hope for any of you going through grief, that you begin to see what is possible for you and your life.

In blessings and gratitude..............

The Dance of Grief

I have only once taken dance lessons, and did not continue, because whenever I had attempted to dance with a partner, I had always wanted to lead. I was left feeling as though it was just something I was not meant to be good at. And as my friends would attest, I was one who needed to be in control.

Before my late husband passed, we had begun to see a counselor to deal with the cancer. After he died, I saw her several times, before I was in an accident and shattered my leg. A few months later, I was able to see her again. This time I was maneuvering the world in a wheelchair, and was not able to go anywhere without another person's assistance. This was approximately 8 months after his death.

I shared with her about the accident, and that one of my dogs (Buddy, a black lab/wolfhound mix) had died since I had seen her last. I remember at that time thinking, I really did not know how much more I could take. I was grieving the loss of my husband, the loss of my mobility and independence, and my life as I had known it, when Buddy died. I shared with her that when my son called to tell me the news, I asked my care-giver to take all my pain medications and hide them. I did not trust myself, knowing the despair I was feeling at the time. I had no idea how my life was going to work again. I could not see that I would ever be as happy as I had been just a few short months ago. Buddy's death had just been the final straw.

She shared with me about another client she had had, a man who had lost his wife. She said that he had learned to cope by being willing to do the "dance of grief". She explained that there were going to be times that I might be overwhelmed with my grief, and one way to get through it was just to "be with it", and not resist what I was going through. At other times, I might be getting past the pain, and my life might start to look hopeful again. She told me to not be surprised if all of a sudden, I found myself overcome by grief again. It could be a song on the radio, seeing his family, going through his things, any of which could leave me feeling that I could not go on without him. And this, she said, was perfectly ok. She told me that most people do not know how to deal with another person's grief, particularly if it is months after the event. They don't know what to say, how to help.There are no time limits on grief, but funny how some people will think you should just be over it after a certain period of time.

So, I would be the one who got to say how it went for me. I heard from her that there is no right or wrong way to grieve. You just do it until the pain is healed. It really was like she had given my permission to go through this however I needed to! She told me that if I was just willing to be with however itoccurred for me, to do the dance of my own grieving and healing, that I would one day find myself having moved on, my life full of hope, and maybe, just maybe, I would be happy again.

All kinds of crying

You may have heard that the Eskimos have many names for the one word "snow", including many for snowflake, fallen snow, snow formations, and snowstorm. I have a similar relationship with crying. I can identify several, along with their purpose.

There is the quiet sentimental cry, one tear or several rolling down your cheek while watching a moving performance, be it in the movies or at the theatre. You are usually not alone as others wipe their eyes with whatever is handy, before the lights come up.

There is the I'm-so-mad-I-cannot-help-but-cry when trying to explain to someone who is thought to be empathetic to the situation. Usually words get jumbled up in the tears, and one must stop several times and re-explain what was just said. Tears flow easily, and depending on how frustrating/hurtful the situation, one will usually feel quite done in when the crying stops.

I have seen co-workers who have busted their butt to work on a project, and usually because of fatigue, someone can make a harsh judgemental comment, and that person leaves the room and heads for the ladies room to shed a few tears. They usually pull themselves back together and return as though nothing was amiss.

What was new for me after my husband died was what I can only describe as the "grief" cry. For weeks after he died, I would be driving, or at home alone, and I would be lamenting his passing, or think of some recent event with him, and this crying would begin that left me feeling as though my heart was literally breaking apart. My chest would hurt, I would sob and I felt inconsolable. This was quite a cause for consternation for a police officer who stopped after I had jumped a curb and blown a tire about a month after my husband had passed.
I am sure I was already a bit teary-eyed, headed home from work, when I jumped the curb. Mind you, the car had very little damage, and a flat tire, but my late husband had always been the one to take care of the cars. In that moment, I realized that this was another thing he was not going to be around to take care of. I began to sob inconsolably, and when a police officer who just happened by, tried to speak with me, I was unintelligible. I think he thought I was either drunk or had taken drugs. He was really a little at a loss to know what to think. I realized I needed to pull it together enough to explain that my husband had recently died, and I quickly called a relative and asked him to explain to the officer what had happened. The relative assured the officer that he would be there shortly to help me get home, and that I would be fine.

For the past 3+ years, this cry has certainly diminished with time and healing, but every once in a while, I can be watching one of my favorite sit-coms, where someone is dying, and that cry is back. The good news is that now it does not last nearly as long, and I recognize it for what it is. This knowing, in and of itself, is a sure sign for me that there has been healing through the grief.

getting started

I am a 53 yr old widow, interested in finding out how people deal with grief. The last 3 1/2 years have taken me through a journey I was not really prepared for, when my husband died from a liposarcoma. Actually, he died from the radiation treatment for the liposarcoma. I had gone with him for his treatment that day, and I heard the radiologist tell him that he had "accidently" nicked his lung with the radiation. Two weeks later he collapsed in an auditorium of a high school, attending a meeting I had to be present at for work. He died there in front of my staff, my boss, students and members of the community. It was, needless to say, traumatic for everyone present that evening. Later the doctors would tell me, as a result of the radiation nicking his lung, he had had a pulmonary embulism, which had basically exploded in his chest, killing him instantly.

Sometimes it seems as though this all happened just yesterday, and other times, it seems a life time ago. There are days I can relay the events to another person completely dry-eyed and very matter of factly. Other times, I start to tell someone and I tear up and cannot stop the onslaught of emotions, and invariably the river of tears that follow.

My purpose in starting this blog is provide a place where others can share their journey through grief. I am particularly interested to know how others have handled the need to cry, the healing power of crying, or alternately, the need to suppress the crying. I invite you to share your story, or just an aspect of where you are in your journey to healing. I look forward to reading what others have to share!