The holidays are too often a painful reminder of your changed life and the death of your loved one. They may force you to realize how much your life has changed. Holidays certainly may not feel festive — they may feel more like a spotlight painfully illuminating your sense of emptiness, aloneness and broken heart. How can you move from hiding or…
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Grief Support Groups Serving West Los Angeles, Encino and Agoura Hills
Grief Support Groups Serving West Los Angeles, Encino and Agoura Hills
Healing
Like a thick veil slowly descending, blanketing itself over you and obscuring your vision, you can’t help but give in to the weight of its powerful effect. These are times when you cannot think, cannot feel, cannot see or eat or speak. The death of a spouse, child or anyone that you love dearly can leave you in this experience. No one wants to be in this place, especially not you.
Disenfranchised Grief
Have you ever experienced a loss so heartbreaking and no one was there to console you, to hold you, to hear you, to listen to your story, to cry with you, to help mend your broken heart? There was no Rabbi or Pastor to turn to, no group to give you a safe and non-judgmental place to mourn your loss, to heal your broken heart. This is what Disenfranchised Grief looks like. You feel utterly alone and silenced.
We all remember falling in love. We all remember those wonderful feelings we experienced when we fell in love. And if we experience love again, later in life, we become reacquainted with feeling alive and exuberant, like the teenagers we once were. But falling in love can also be shocking when it happens after the loss of a beloved spouse and no…
I recently wrote an article that dealt with insensitive remarks made by others. This time the camera of life will be a “selfie.” See if any of these remarks resonate with your own self-talk.
First come the common painful practice of “would of, could of, should of” comments that can really hurt. Here are a few examples:
Lynne Goldklang is a psychotherapist, writer and a grateful member of a HOPE bereavement group.
“I don’t think of all the misery but of all the beauty that remains.” — Anne Frank
It was one of those restless nights a few months after my husband’s death as I flipped on the TV and stared at the movie that was playing. A mother is sitting in a hospital waiting area crying as her young daughter’s life is ebbing. A strange older woman engages her in conversation and asks who is dying. The old woman listens carefully and then advises the grieving mother to be aware of “collateral beauty” — words that are the title and essence of the movie.
The meaning of collateral beauty as portrayed in the film is that love and kindness are all around if the grieving person is open to notice and receive. It is a term that is mystical yet down to earth, easily accessible.
The holidays can be painful reminders of a life that “was,” but New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day with parades, football games and gatherings are triggers that make you realize how different your life really is now.
Our hopes center around the idea that this is a “new year.” In the “celebrating” of the New Year, our intentions are courageous. We hope that we will heal and feel that our lives are settling into a “new norm.” Our reality is often so different.
Following the death of her husband of 26 years in May of 2017, Marianne Simon began Poetic Plantings Publishing as a “the first step in the journey of all that I am still becoming.” They call it that – “the year of firsts.” The implication is that it will be a painful year of all the landmarks you will survive without your…
Conversations After The Death Of A Parent Or Spouse
by Sue Rowen, LMFT
“Anything that’s human is mentionable, and anything that is mentionable can be more manageable. When we can talk about our feelings, they become less overwhelming, less upsetting, and less scary. The people we trust with that important talk can help us know that we are not alone.” ― Fred Rogers
Your parent has died. Have you stopped speaking about this huge loss and your pain to your remaining parent?
“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.