“Don’t walk in front of me… I may not follow
Don’t walk behind me… I may not lead
Walk beside me… just be my friend”
― Albert Camus
The lonely walk, the storm that shakes your foundation as you toss in the wild wind, the dark tunnel that seems endless. You are filled with the deepest grief beyond your imagination when your beloved has died.
Grief is a journey, and each person’s journey is unique. Michael F. DuBois had a close relationship with his mother, and when she died when he was 22 he found that he was lost in his grief, seemingly unable to move on. That led him to produce this film, an exploration of his mother’s life and the impact it had on the…
When Lynne lost her husband of 52 years, she had good support from family, friends and therapists, but it wasn’t enough. “They want to make you feel better,” she recalls. They wanted to “get things back to where they were.” But she knew that wasn’t the process of grief. So, she sought out HOPE Connection. In the Spousal Loss group, she found what she needed: a safe place to fall.
the ocean knows,
by tides,
when to approach,
when to recede.
grief knows,
the same way,
by the language
of the moon.
I wrote this short poem about a month after my brother died:
My grief is like an ocean swell
rolling toward shore.
It rises but never breaks.
It came to me while sitting quietly during a yoga class, breathing deeply. There were swells of grief but no tears. The stillness helped me put words to my feelings. I had cried when he died, but then it subsided. Too quiet. Where was my grief?
It can be 20 days or 20 years since your parent(s) has died and still there is a painful nostalgia that accompanies thoughts and reflections on our lives when our parent(s) was alive. Whether you perceived your parent as a loving parent or an unloving parent, this remains true. In one way or another we register the uniqueness of our relationship with…
Often, poets capture the feelings following the death of our loved one in ways that transcend words. Westley Nash does exactly that in this short poem, read by the author, Left Behind.
But that shadow has been serving you!
What hurts you, blesses you.
Darkness is your candle.
Your boundaries are your quest.
You must have shadow and light source both.
Listen, and lay your head under the tree of awe.
— Rumi, a 13th Century Poet
Grief in its rawest form can feel like a shroud: grey, bleak, hiding but not shielding us from unbearable pain. Grief can cause us to question if we will ever again recover our essence, zest and sense of hope. There is no antidote, nor would we want there to be. Grief is part of every life. It is a time more than any other when we need the healing balm that is found in states of awe.
Are you grieving a parent you considered unloving, not present or abusive? You may wonder, “Why do I feel so grief-stricken?” You may not have felt loved nor feel like you loved your parent. You may not have experienced “unconditional love” and wonder, “ Why am I so sad? Why am I so anxious and confused? Do I really care?” Perhaps, more…
After the dust begins to settle following a major loss, people often struggle to return to their routines in a way that honors and makes space for their bereavement. Grief rituals can help people find meaning as well as heal.
Rituals are an important way people can adjust to the loss of a loved one, develop an ongoing connection with the deceased and can help create a connection to your community and support system.