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This is a tough one, Maryann. I understand your thought in having another thread. I must admit, I was one when in my early grief I read only the loss of spouse thread for a very long time. Later, I started to read other threads. I never go to some of the specific threads and I’m afraid I’d miss your posts if we were to have yet another thread for Sudden Loss. A loss is a loss and I find it helpful to see what others are thinking. That is why I believe there are so many who post in the Loss of Spouse thread. There is a separate thread now for young people who have lost someone and I do not read there. I think we miss something if we become too specific. Anyway, that is what I think. Anne

Grief Makes You Crazy http://www.whatsyourgrief.com/grief-makes-you-crazy2/ I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news for you…grief makes you crazy. I suppose that may be a bit of an exaggeration. In reality, it only makes you feel crazy. In the beginning, you feel totally out of sorts – like lash out at everyone, cry over everything, wear the same sweatpants for a week insane. Then over time you only feel a bit odd every now and then – like that time you refused to throw away your dead mother’s old hairbrush or when you started crying in the middle of the Target sock aisle over some random grief trigger. No? Just me? Let’s move on then. Fortunately, I also have good news — when it comes to grief, crazy is the new normal. It looks different on everyone because we all experience grief in our own way, but on some level, we all struggle to understand ourselves and the world around us in the face of profound loss. Think about it – it makes total sense. Whether the loss was sudden or you were able to anticipate it, as soon as you understood and accepted that someone you love was dead or dying you began the grueling work of grieving. If ever a rationale for temporary insanity was needed, one could certainly be found among the range of reactions and emotions associated with grief and loss – shock, numbness, sadness, despair, loneliness, isolation, difficulty concentrating, forgetfulness, irritability, anger, increased or decreased appetite, fatigue or sleeplessness, guilt, regret, depression, anxiety, crying, headaches, weakness, aches, pains, yearning, worry, frustration, detachment, isolation, questioning faith – to name a few. Understandably, many will find it hard to acclimate to these emotions. One day you’re walking along like normal and the next day you feel like an alien has invaded your body; your actions and reactions have become totally unpredictable and confusing. In search of something familiar you look to your primary support system, your family and friends, but they seem changed as well; some avoid you, some dote on you, some are grieving in ways you don’t understand, and some are critical of the way you are handling things. Everyone is searching for the new normal. The first few weeks are foggy. You wake up each morning thinking maybe it was all a bad dream and you muddle through the day trying to make sense of life without your loved one. Just when you start to get a grip (or not) you are forced to step back into your pre-grief life. It seems absurd that the world would keep moving in the face of your tragedy, but it has. Sadly most grievers can’t abandon their duties for long – parent, employee, bill payer, pants wearer – you now have to figure out how to continue to exist in the roles that have been yours since before the death. Alas, that is not all. You must also incorporate new roles and duties, the ones you inherited when your loved one died – mowing the lawn, balancing the household budget, single parenting, closing old bank accounts, dealing with insurance, taking in grandchildren. God never gives you more than you can bear? We’re seriously testing that theory. Sometimes even more disorienting is the emptiness felt by those who have fewer responsibilities as a result of the loss. Perhaps you have spent the past year dealing with treatments and prescriptions, appointments, prayers, and hospice. Now that’s no longer necessary and a life put on hold to be a caregiver must be restarted. Or perhaps you’re a parent whose life was previously made colorful by a child and fast paced by the duties of parenting. Now you find yourself waking up in the morning to rush through the before school routine, only to realize there’s no one to hurry out of bed or call to breakfast. Life is forever changed and things feel meaningless, gray, and empty. This is when you really start to feel crazy (you’re not). Friends don’t know what to say to you anymore. You are supposed to be back to work, school, the PTA, but you don’t feel the same. You’re worried you are alienating people by talking about your loved one and the death. You’re confused about your purpose. Everything you knew about life has changed. You’re questioning your faith and life’s meaning. You’re wondering if you are supposed to be getting better and you can no longer see the world in color. We here at ‘What’s Your Grief’ like to talk about a condition we call ‘Temporarily unable to see rainbows’. Have you ever noticed that many of the resources, articles, books, and materials created to help people who are grieving use images of people staring off at sunsets, standing on a beach, or gazing at the clouds? These images inevitably lead Litsa and me to a conversation that goes something like this… Eleanor: You know, my grief never looked anything like that. Litsa: Yeah my grief didn’t look like that either. Eleanor: As a matter of fact, my grief would not have been impressed with that sunset at all. Litsa: Mine either. My grief would probably have wanted to punch that sunset in the face. The irony is, when you are in the throws of grief you may really struggle to find the beauty and the joy in life and it may be quite unlikely that you would stop and admire the beauty of a rainbow or the vastness of an ocean. Those who cannot relate to these images begin to worry, what’s wrong with me that I don’t have such a zen perspective? The inability to derive joy from things that were once pleasurable can feel a lot like depression and it can be frightening. Don’t worry you’re still not crazy. These are normal feelings. I know because I’ve experienced my own grief and I know because I’ve heard hundreds of other grievers talk about the same types of experiences. (If you’re worried that you are actually experiencing a psychological disorder like depression, anxiety, or PTSD – read this and this and this) You’ve probably heard people say, ‘the first year is the hardest’, this is sometimes true. Quite often, the second year is no picnic either, but at some point, things should get easier. The intense and unrelenting distress of acute grief will be replaced by less frequent moments of sadness, anger, and frustration. You will still have bad days, but you will know things are getting better when those days are outnumbered by ‘okay’ days. This does not mean you are ‘getting over it’, moving on, or forgetting. An important part of healing is discovering the role your loved one will play in your life after their death. Of course at first, you hold on very tight, afraid if you let go your loved one will disappear completely. You hold on to items (not crazy), you leave rooms untouched (not crazy), you pay their cell phone bill so you can continue to hear their voice on their voicemail (not crazy). These things are not crazy and you may continue to do some of them forever, but some you will eventually let go of as your grip slowly loosens and you realize that nothing short of amnesia could make you really let go. And slowly…slowly…the faded colors of life become more vibrant. The world unthaws and you start to find beauty peeking through in places you would never have expected it. Your season of grief has left you weary but stronger and as you walk out onto the sunlit path you glance back as the form of the person you used to disappear. You know you will never be the same and you begin to accept that you must integrate your loved one and your experiences and continue to live…a little bit wary, a little bit wise, and a little bit crazy

http://myemail.constantcontact.com/Daily-Meditation--An-Honest-Being-With.html?soid=1011221485028&aid=UKeZho0b7P8

I agree with what you say, Laura. I believe that your dad is and always will be with you. It is a little strange because we have to experience them differently now but they are as real to us today as they were when they were physically present in our lives. I am so glad you got the tires for the car. Good for you. Now if you take a trip down to where I live I won't have to worry about you. I believe Lena will keep you grounded. She is such a perfect soul ~ in my eyes. I'm glad you like the poem. It is a favorite of mine. It's on my Pinterest site. ps ~ don't do too much thinking about your dad being so far away ~ he is right in your heart. Anyway, that's what I think. ?

Kay, I think your first link and mine are the same. I tried mine and it is working for me.

Finch, I am sorry you are having rough days and experiencing guilt and self-doubt. It is normal when we are grieving. Early on in my grief, I found this post by Marty on her Grief Healing Blog to be helpful to me. The links following the article are helpful too. http://www.griefhealingblog.com/2012/12/grief-and-burden-of-guilt.html

Encountering Grief: A 10-Minute Guided Meditation with Joan Halifax “May I accept my sadness knowing that I am not my sadness.” At the end of her interview with Krista Tippett at the Chautauqua Institution in New York on July 11, 2012, Zen abbot Joan Halifax led the audience through this “guided meditation on encountering grief — grief as something ordinary, part of life and humanity.” Please download it and share with friends and family.

Laura, I knew that I had lost what I was before Jim died and remembered reading the link Marty sent above. It took me a while to find a new purpose in my life and to accept how things are today. Maybe this is where you are since the loss of your dad. You are finding a different purpose to your life and I believe your dad is with you and maybe even directing you. Your art and your gift of playing your cello give you purpose. I believe we all need to have a purpose in our lives. Who you used to be before your dad died has changed. You are still you but you have a different drive. I am so glad you are focusing on your art. You are so talented. Perhaps this is just a more focused you. You asked what all this means ~ I think it means that you are transitioning into the same person you always have been only now your path is clearer. And I’m sure your sweet Lena will continue to lead you in the direction of caring for those in need by visiting with those who are not able to get out and about. Get new tires. I think it’s a message from your dad. He is always with you and would want you to be safe. Anyway, that is what I believe. ps ~ I'm still reading links Marty has suggested for all of us. I have learned from reading about all these life changes. The picture reminded me that our loved ones are always with us. Hugs, Anne

Thinking of you today, Laura, as you remember your dad.

This left me speechless. I could not believe what I was hearing. I think it is wonderful. http://www.viralmirror.com/guy-sings-rendition-of-the-prayer/

Snow or no snow. . . https://willowgreeninspiration.com/2015/01/26/like-snow/

I believe that this is the value of coming here. We learn to listen with our hearts. Those who come here do feel accepted and for a while do not feel so alone. DAILY MEDITATION Listening as Spiritual Hospitality March 11 Photo courtesy of SDGimagery.com To listen is very hard because it asks of us so much interior stability that we no longer need to prove ourselves by speeches, arguments, statements, or declarations. True listeners no longer have an inner need to make their presence known. They are free to receive, to welcome, to accept. Listening is much more than allowing another to talk while waiting for a chance to respond. Listening is paying full attention to others and welcoming them into our very beings. The beauty of listening is that those who are listened to start feeling accepted, start taking their words more seriously and discovering their own true selves. Listening is a form of spiritual hospitality by which you invite strangers to become friends, to get to know their inner selves more fully, and even to dare to be silent with you.

Oh, Kay, I am so very sorry that your daughter lost the baby. I cannot even imagine the pain you must be going through. I am here for you as are all of us. Lean on us when you need to and we will be here to listen to you. You are such a caring and gentle person that I wish I could hug you and assure you that we care deeply for you as you have cared for so many of us who come here. I am so sorry. Anne

What a precious baby boy, Kay. I am so happy for you and the family. Vincent looks content in the arms of his grandma.

My heart breaks for you Johanna. I am so sorry this accident happened. What we learn is an accident is just that. It is an accident. Thank you for sharing this with us. Do you have a picture of Morrigan that you could share? Hugs to you.

Just finished watching another webinar this morning from Peggy Haymes titled: “How Long, Lord? What Christians Need To Know About Depression”. This short video is good for anyone. The three main points covered were Nutrition, Exercise, and Sleep. Peggy is doing a series of these webinars and will be making them available for us soon. We have heard about how important it is to take care of ourselves but often times we do not follow through. Eating the right foods, getting exercise, and sleep patterns all contribute to a healthy mind and body. Depression could be linked to the fact of not doing this self-care. Exercise is vital ~ we must move even if it is a short walk each day. Eating healthy foods (lots of fruits and vegetables, drinking water, etc.) and our sleep will improve which will improve our disposition. I will post the webinar here when it becomes available. These are all things we know about but when we are grieving it becomes foreign to us. Often times we do not make the connection about a healthy body leads to a healthy mind. I am not an exerciser but I loved how excited Peggy got when talking about exercise. She said just getting up and moving across the floor is a start. We do not think about how "frozen" we can be during grief.

My granddaughter, Elizabeth Anne (10 months), is on her way to visit me during Spring Break. She has been practicing crawling and standing holding on to things. My family will be here for a week. Sofia (10) and Nicky (8) send me notes daily telling me how hard it is to wait. Even though we FaceTime a few times a week it never seems like enough. It will be good to have my arms around their precious bodies. Nicky reminded me that it is almost Easter! While they are here I have to remind myself not to hide eggs in the cactus plants in the yard. J Sofia wants to go to the Desert Botanical Garden to see the butterfly exhibit. I so love my daughter and SIL. They are beautiful people. Elizabeth Anne ~ on the road to grandma’s house

All That I Lost When You Died Widowed on May 25, 2012 “i carry your heart, I carry it in my heart” e.e.cummings This is the same post only in PDF format for members. What I lost.pdf

It is okay to have those days, Marie. You will have many of them. Part of our healing is allowing the pain. Tomorrow is another day. hugs

When grief gets physical: dealing with physical grief symptoms http://www.whatsyourgrief.com/physical-grief-symptoms/

I came across this on FB today and it really spoke to me. I wish I had seen this when I decided to “let go” of keeping my teaching certificate updated. I struggled for a few years after I retired thinking I might go back to teaching! I kept updated on certificate requirements knowing that I would not be going back into the classroom. It was costing me money and time. Somehow I thought that by doing this I would still be who I’d been for almost five decades ~ a teacher by profession. Today I know I am more than a teacher. I know that even though I do not have a valid updated teaching certificate I will always be a teacher. Funny how we allow ourselves to think that letters after our names define us. It is what we did not who we are. I share this because I think it can be applied to our grief. Over the months and years, we learn how to “let go” of guilt and all the “should,” “would,” and “could” and anything else that may be negative. It doesn’t happen overnight and it doesn’t happen without working on it. We are human and most of us do the best we know how to do at the time. It sounds simple but boy it isn’t! Letting Go

Happy Birthday, dear Laura. I read but do not post very much anymore. I think of you as I pass the paintings hanging in my home from the art auction. I like seeing Lena and hearing about all you are doing. Take care of you. Anne

DAILY MEDITATION Hidden Greatness February 25 Photo courtesy of SDGimagery.com There is much emphasis on notoriety and fame in our society. Our newspapers and television keep giving us the message: What counts is to be known, praised, and admired, whether you are a writer, an actor, a musician, or a politician. Still, real greatness is often hidden, humble, simple, and unobtrusive. It is not easy to trust ourselves and our actions without public affirmation. We must have strong self-confidence combined with deep humility. Some of the greatest works of art and the most important works of peace were created by people who had no need for the limelight. They knew that what they were doing was their call, and they did it with great patience, perseverance, and love.