When your loved one dies, it may literally feel like it takes your breath away. You begin an odyssey that you don’t how know to navigate.
Shock and numbness prepare you for the journey as you plummet into a swirling dense fog of despair, an unfamiliar reality. The life you shared is no more. This is a forever loss and so begins… the eclipse into darkness.
Grieving is not an event. It’s a journey that has many faces, facets and layers, many losses within loss. Some will take you by surprise.
When your spouse dies, it feels like the pain of that loss is the only thing that you can see, feel and… barely manage. It feels like a deep hole inside that will never heal.
“Do not delay, Do not delayThe golden moments fly.” — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow “The little things. The little moments. They aren’t little. “ — Jon Kabat -Zinnn Alice was 67 when her husband of 35 years died. She had lived her life as an optimistic cheerful person. Now her eyes had lost their sparkle. Her grief was overwhelming. After several weeks, she decided to…
“Toxic Positivity.” What in the world does that mean? Many of us from the time we are little are told to Think positive. Look on the bright side. Turn that rainy day into a sunny day. For goodness sake, don’t cry. Change those sad thoughts into happy thoughts. There is even a song called “Don’t Worry. Be Happy.”
My husband was lost at sea. Sailing around the world was his lifelong dream. He bought the boat, retired, spent years preparing for the journey and set a date. I supported his dream but didn’t want to go with him. We both agreed that I would meet him at various ports, sharing in the experience that way. After six months cruising the Sea of Cortez (where I joined him several times) he took off solo for the South Pacific. He never completed his passage between Mexico and the Marquesas. Three weeks into his five-week crossing, he disappeared in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, hundreds of miles from any landmass in one of the most remote places on earth for search and rescue. I never got to say goodbye.
When someone’s spouse or partner dies, people naturally reach out with unbridled sympathy. When someone’s parent dies, though, people can inadvertently couch their sympathy in ways that may not be helpful. Your mom died? That’s life!
There is one common denominator, though, to losing a spouse or a parent: your grief demands attention, now or later — your choice.
“Healing Grief… Moment by Moment” is a podcast created and produced by HOPE Connection. In each short episode Dr. Jo Christner or another HOPE Connection therapist offers a meditative exploration of a different aspect of grief and the healing process. As you listen, we wish you love, light and comfort.
The many emotions we may experience under the umbrella of grief can feel incredibly heavy, intrusive, and uncontrollable. Imagine you are standing under a waterfall. The pressure of the water falling on your neck, shoulders, and back is intense, strong — even painful. All you can see, feel, hear, smell or taste is the waterfall. When the intensity of an emotion is like standing under a waterfall, start by taking a step behind the waterfall.
When your spouse dies, you will most likely embark upon a difficult and lonely journey of grieving. Somewhere on that journey of grieving and healing, you will move through the “world in-between.” You might be thinking, “What is this world in-between?”
The power of Rossmore’s strength came from the articulation of emotions in the silence. For many days and nights, he sat by Tracy’s side as his best friend sobbed over the death of his beloved wife, Lila. No stranger to grief, Rossmore was weeping from the inside over Lila, whom he loved dearly. He was conditioned to live in the here and now as a way of life and it had served him well. Focused 100 percent with undivided attention, he was here for Tracy at the worst time of his friend’s life.