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About enna

  • Rank
    Advanced Member
  • Birthday 12/05/1942

Previous Fields

  • Your relationship to the individual who died
  • Date of Death
    May 25, 2012
  • Name/Location of Hospice if they were involved:
    Hospice of the Valley - Phoenix

Profile Information

  • Your gender
  • Location (city, state)
    Goodyear, AZ
  • Interests
    Spending time with family and friends and reading.

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  1. I am so sorry, Stacy Nicole. It never gets any easier. Sending hugs, Anne
  2. I am so sorry to hear that you have lost your son Joe. And to loose your daughter in 2010 has to be so hard. There are no words. The loss of your son is so fresh that I don't know how you are even working. You will need time for your grief. Support groups can be very helpful as can online discussion groups like this one you have found. People who come here listen and know about grief. Knowing that someone is hearing you is a good start in doing the work of your grief. The people who come here know about loss. Some will read, some will offer suggestions, and some will direct you to articles that just might help. This site is available 24/7 and there is always someone who is listening. Sending hugs to you, Anne
  3. I tend toward the positive and today I share one with you. Those who remember me know I lost my Schipperke-Poodle to seizures and a weak heart after I rescued him after my Jim died. I only had him for about one year. This is the picture before his haircut and visit to our vet. I also was lucky to have my grand dog live a few blocks from me and he spent many a day with Jim and me. He was a Beagle and the most gentle and loving dog one would ever want. He died a few years ago after a long illness. Well, I was just introduced to another grand dog. The kids decided it was time to get another dog. When I got the phone call that they wanted to stop by, I was looking forward to seeing what surprise they had. I knew they were looking for a medium sized dog who could travel with them. This is Buddy, a Beagle, two and a half years young. I love him already. He will spend lots of time with grandma.
  4. Your story is so sad. I am sorry this accident has happened to you. I am just so sorry . Anne
  5. I have read your post and I am so sorry you lost your precious English Bulldog, Lulu. From your description of her it sounds like she received all the love and care during her life that she needed. From what I have read you gave her all the love a precious animal could ask for. I am sorry she is not with you in this life, but I believe that Lulu will always be with you in your heart. Great love always brings a deep sadness when what we loved is gone. The hurt is indescribable. Those who come to this site are animal lovers. Allow the pain during this time. It will ease over time. Please take one day, one hour at a time. Feelings are just that ~ they are only feelings. The feelings will pass. I am so sorry you have to endure this pain. I am so glad Lulu had such love during her lifetime. We are here for you during this most difficult time. Do you have a picture that you would like to share? Anne
  6. The video is very lovely, Kay. Thanks for sharing.
  7. enna

    A Reminder

    My dear Forum Friends, I am writing this note to remind you that we do have a donate button at the top of the main page for keeping this site open and free from ads. If you are able please consider donating to this web site. I remember that when the button first went up I did not see it. It costs quite a bit of money to keep a site open like this one. The active members exceed over 9860 now and our admin reads every one of the messages and responds when appropriate. It is our web site and even though some of us are no longer as active we still come to this site to find comfort or even respond to a member. I’m asking for you to donate whatever you can so we do not lose this valuable site. It will always remain open and free as long as our admin is able to monitor it. Thank you so much if you are able and willing to donate whatever amount. I have been a member for over seven years and realize the value of a trusted site like this one. I’m sending love and hugs to each one of you during this most difficult grieving time. enna
  8. enna

    Living with Loss

    Keeping you in my thoughts and love, Kay. I am so sorry. I know you did what you needed to do for your beloved Arlie. I am here if you need to talk. Anne
  9. My dear friends, This is such sad news. I am so sorry to hear about your losses. To be violated like this is so traumatic. I hold both of you in my thoughts. Marty's article about the 'emotional impact of burglary' is good and I also think to talk with someone might help. Sending love, Anne
  10. Thank you for your contribution to the book, Maryann. Your article is on my 'To Read List" and I know you understand this ~ so many books and articles to read.
  11. How true what you say is to those points you have made, Mary Linda. We have heard that not all hospices are the same. It sounds like you did not have a good experience with the hospice for you and your husband. This is tragic for a family who needs the care and concern from others at a time like this. My experience with hospice was the opposite. The Hospice Team who worked with us was excellent. I still remember each one of them as if it were yesterday (my husband passed in 2012). My only regret is that we did not know to call them earlier. The coordination of the Team was evident from day one. Once the social worker visited and put things in motion our lives became easier. We chose to have the Hospice doctor seeing to my husband’s care because she would be available 24/7 as our Primary doctor could not be. Our nurse came weekly and near the end daily, the CNA person was perfect and did her job with tenderness and love, we had access to a chaplain and a volunteer. A hospice volunteer veteran visited a few times and this was a comfort to my husband who was a fighter pilot during WW11. When my husband was no longer able to be up and about our den became his special place. We had all the necessary items provided by our nurse like a hospital bed for not only his comfort but to make it easier for us to care for him. Our nurse made sure that my husband was as comfortable with medication as possible. She spent time talking with me about what was going on whenever there was a change. This Hospice Team was here for our family and a grief counselor was available to my family and me for a year after my husband died. Having the Team working with us freed me up to be a wife and not only his caregiver. I could tell so many stories and without hospice, we would never have been able to keep my husband at home where he wanted to be. I know not every family can have their family member remain at home. When it is possible having a good hospice team available is a must. I am so glad you have had good experiences with hospice and so sorry that the one that counted most for you was not.
  12. Wednesday, February 27, 2019 The Longing of Saudade Nine years after Evelyn’s death, I stood on the coast of Maine at dusk looking over the Atlantic Ocean, feeling what I have come to know as saudade, a Portuguese word for profound melancholic longing. I desperately yearned to see Ev again, knowing that I never would. She died suddenly, and I didn’t have the chance to say goodbye. My love for her did not end with her death. Nor had I ceased hoping that she would walk into the room and I would feel my heart skip a beat. I wanted to see her smile again and hear her laugh. I wanted to hug her and ask all the questions that had piled up in her absence. I wanted her to tease me for some of the stupid things I’d done trying to cope, in ways that only she could do. She made ordinary days feel special. So much had changed over the years. I’d remarried and was happy again. Yet, in my eyes, you could see a certainty, a hardness, perhaps, from my close acquaintance with death. I share more of my emotions than I did before, and I was thankful for this. Hopefully, I was also more compassionate for the suffering of others because people had set their lives aside to help me when I didn’t have the energy to ask. Anyone who loses someone close, whether it’s a spouse, parent, child, or friend, feels an edge to their lives that don’t leave, along with residual anger, frustration, and despair. And if someone died young, and unfairly in our eyes, our new awareness of the depth of life can open into darkness that worries us. Our lives are constantly being reshaped by changes, with moments of grace, clarity, and unexpected encounters. If we are brave and face them openly, they can nudge our lives in the direction we want to go. Because of grief, we tend to speak directly now, and we’ve developed a b. s. meter because many people who said they cared and wanted to help, didn’t. They told us what we wanted to hear. But words without actions are worse than useless. They build up expectations and hope where none exist. It would have been better if they had said they couldn’t deal with grief because then we would still trust them to be honest. As the years go on, our lives will fill with people we’ve loved who are gone. Even when new people enter, no one replaces the ones we lost. They remain nestled in our hearts. That night, standing on the shore with the ocean stretched out before me, rather than move on to my next task, I let the feeling of saudade deepen. I lingered and let myself feel the complexity of the moment—both joy and sorrow—as I watched the graceful beauty of seagulls flying low over the water. The ocean was calm because of an offshore breeze, and the lighthouse was sending beams of light from the rocky coast into the gathering dusk, guiding people into harbors of safety. In the midst of my gratitude for the present, there was also sadness when I thought about what might have been and the dreams we had that will not be. As love once changed me, so now does grief. Posted by Mark Liebenow
  13. Wednesday, January 30, 2019 Widowers Grief An Honest Journey Through Grief What we want from a memoir when matters of life and death are involved is honesty. We don’t want sugar. Sugar doesn’t give us real hope. Sugar melts away when tears begin to fall. We want truth because we know that one day we will face what they have gone through, and we want to know how to survive. Elaine Mansfield’s book, Leaning Into Love, is honest about her husband’s struggles with cancer and chemotherapy, and honest about her struggle with grief and beginning a new life alone. Even with people who have as strong a faith and are as determined as Elaine and Vic, death still wins the physical battle. Elaine writes of her battle to hold on and the longing to let go because it was so hard to live without him until she had no choice. “His gentle passage opens my heart and stills my mind,” she writes after Vic dies. She bends but does not break: “The downward pull of grief persists, but I often touch the slippery edge and rise above instead of being sucked under.” The book is divided into Before and After, with death as the turning point. There are no magic words here that will erase death’s sorrow, but she offers insights — stay attentive to grief, do not give up when grief goes on for longer than you expect, screw up your courage and do what needs to be done, even if it scares you. After Vic’s death, Elaine begins writing as a way for understanding her grief, guided by friends and teachers. She writes about how lost she felt in the first months, the slow movement out of constant sorrow, and how grief still periodically returns three years later, brought back by a stray memory or seeing one of Vic’s possessions. “Grief doesn’t end for me, or anyone,” Elaine writes, “If we dare to love, then we will grieve. Mortality is the shadow that falls when the sun shines.” Sprinkled through the narrative are the words of Elaine and Vic’s spiritual mentors — Anthony Damiani, Marion Woodman, and the Dalai Lama, as well as words from the poems of Rainer Maria Rilke and Naomi Shihab Nye, including Nye’s astounding “Kindness” poem. There is much that I admire and treasure about Elaine’s book. I underlined over 150 passages that surprised, challenged, or delighted me. What I did not realize, until I closed the book and reflected on its words, was its balance. Elaine often returns to the land as a nurturing place, and writes of her desire for daily exercise and cooking healthy food, even though, on some days, these are the last things she wants to do. This is the Physical dimension of being. She writes of her ongoing practice of meditation, worship, and of spending time in solitude. This is the Spiritual dimension. And she speaks of her volunteering to help with a hospice group, and of the support she received from her community of friends, both during Vic’s illness and their presence after his death. This is the Heart dimension. All three are needed. Death changes our lives, not for better or worse. It simply sends us off in a different direction. Six weeks after Vic died, Marion Woodman wrote to Elaine: “Something is emerging that could not have happened in your old life.” Each year Elaine raises Monarch butterflies and watches their transformation from caterpillar to butterfly. She felt her own life undergoing a similar transformation. Everyone’s experience of grief will differ, but this book is a testament to holding on when a large part of your life is taken away. Elaine writes, “Vic’s death taught me that only kindness and love matter in the end. When we fall, and we all will fall, we can rise up if we lean into each other and the sacred gift of life.” Elaine’s words move with the flow of a powerful river that picks us up and carries us into a deeper understanding of life. Posted by Mark Liebenow
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