October, and Halloween — oh what memories! Wearing costumes with a mask that you wanted to fool a friend with. In those days that was a fun kind of mask.
Now, as a grieving adult, you discover that masks take on a different purpose. Such as the metaphorical mask to avoid the sadness of grief with family and friends, when you don’t want them to know how you really feel.
It’s an interesting conundrum to consider feeling your grief when that’s the very last feeling you want. It’s those feelings that make the loss of your loved one feel too real. So, for some, the answer is — just be busy, thinking, maybe if I don’t give those feelings my attention, I won’t have to feel them.
What happens then? Grief feelings not acknowledged do not go away; they may hide for a while, sometimes even a long time. But grief is still there and will eventually show up when least expected.
The story of how Scrooge became Scrooge may shed some light on what happens when feelings are pushed aside for too long.
The death of a parent is an emotionally difficult and universal experience. Although you may cognitively understand that the loss is inevitable, that doesn’t lessen the grief when your mother or father dies. It becomes a personal and complicated journey of grief. Nothing is ever the same again. It is a transformative event and your life changes forever.
“Peace can become a lens through which you see the world. Be it. Live it. Radiate it out. Peace is an inside job.” – Wayne Dyer
Let’s start with a few baseline questions. Are you impatient? Are you angry? Do you like yourself?
Whatever your feelings, they are not unusual. They are part of your grieving process. Truth is, these feelings, including anger, can be positive and useful emotions if acknowledged and expressed appropriately. On the other hand, if anger or any emotion is repressed it may lead to various health issues, such as high blood pressure, or weaken your immune system.
What’s in a word? Some words can be very powerful, especially when you’re grieving. For someone whose parent has recently died, the first word they associate with their parent might be constant. It’s usually defined as dedicated, devoted, faithful, loyal, steadfast, steady. For many adult children who have had a parent die, those are some of the words that immediately spring to mind when they describe their parent. They might also say they thought of their parent “as an angel,” “a best friend,” “best support.”
Nostalgia is, by its very nature, bittersweet, the happiest memories laced with melancholy. It’s that combination, that opposition of forces, that makes it so compelling. People, places, events, times: we miss them, and there’s a pleasure in the missing and a sadness in the love. — Robert J. Wiersema (Canadian author)
Nostalgia is that deep longing, that yearning for what was. When you’re grieving, it’s normal to want your loved one to be with you. Even when you know the sad reality, your heart is longing for what was.
New Beginnings is a group for ongoing support as a place of growth… from grief to growth.
Think back to your time when your spouse died. Imagine seeing your life as if you were sitting in the first row of a movie theatre. It’s too big — you can’t see everything at once. Then after four months, you move from Group 1 to Group 2. Now, imagine moving back five rows in the movie theatre. Your life still looms large on the screen but not quite as large.
“Though we would like to live without regrets, and sometimes proudly insist that we have none, this is not really possible, if only because we are mortal.” — James Baldwin
Memories are powerful and can be simply thought of as reflective nostalgia. Or they can turn into something much more, with the potential to trigger an overwhelming feeling of regret.
When someone you love dies, it’s normal to focus on some guilt or perhaps some regret which then boils to the surface without warning.
Ah, New Year’s Eve is coming soon. For anyone who has lost a spouse recently that simple thought may be simply dreadful. Reactions to any holiday may range from I hate this to Boy I’ll be glad when this is over. Holidays — especially the first ones you’re experiencing alone — can be nerve wracking, beginning with the decision to even attend any celebrations.
Have you ever heard something that speaks to you so deeply that you’re compelled to stop and think about it over and over? That was how I felt recently after listening to Rabbi Naomi Levy’s sermon at a Nashuva service online.
She spoke of her childhood, how she was the youngest of four siblings and the youngest of nine grandchildren. Her family lived on the ground floor. The family of an aunt and uncle lived above them and another aunt and uncle’s family lived next door. The grandparents lived next door to them. In 2nd grade, she was given a dress to wear for class photos. She went next door and saw a picture laying on the table of one of her cousins wearing the dress. She exclaimed, “Cindy is in my dress!” Her Aunt Leah said, “No, actually Cindy is wearing a dress that came from her sister Mimi and now from Cindy to you.”