MartyT

I arrived at the conclusion that grief is love transfigured by the Cross of Christ. This works for me. I just happen to be reading a book right now that was recommended to me, Paul, that I think you may find quite helpful. It is written from a Christian / Catholic perspective (but not a "preachy" one) by a woman whose 18-year-old son died from injuries sustained in an auto accident. You can read a description and review of the book here: A Season of Grief: A Comforting Companion for Difficult Days, by Ann Dawson.

My dear Maylissa, I too wish I could say something to ease your pain and alleviate your fear, but all I can do is add my voice to assure you that you are not alone, and we care deeply about you. You have extended your kindness and compassion to so many on this site, and we are right here beside you when you need us to extend the same to you. I don't know if you're familiar with the work of Rita Reynolds; she is a dear friend and fellow animal lover, whose work and writings have inspired me and brought me great personal comfort. (Rita is the founder of an animal sanctuary located in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains near Charlottesville, VA; she's also the founder and editor of laJoie, The Journal in Appreciation of All Animals, and she is currently working to establish a community hospice program for animals and their human families.) There is an excerpt from her book, Blessing the Bridge: What Animals Teach Us about Death, Dying and Beyond, that appears on her Blessing the Bridge Web site, which I think will speak to you and what you're experiencing with your beloved fur baby, Maylissa, and which I pray will bring you some small measure of comfort. You'll find the excerpt here: Excerpt. Please know that all of us are holding you in gentle thought and prayer. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Oh, my dear Paul. I feel such a need to respond to some of your concerns. I know you’ve probably already heard from your “in person” grief counselor much of what I am about to say, but I feel a need to say it anyway. So I guess you’ll just have to bear with me. You say you “just need to vent, to air all this out,” and that it “ain’t anything new.” Of course, that’s what you can use this forum for. You say you’re feeling isolated, too, but that is just a feeling, and feelings aren’t always rational or accurate. Accept that you're feeling isolated and express it as you did here, so you can expose it to the light of day, where it can be examined more objectively. When you acknowledge openly to others what you’re feeling, you can test the reality of it, and permit others to challenge its validity. Since yesterday was the four-month anniversary of your mom’s death, it’s not surprising to me that you're feeling as you are at this particular point in your grief journey. By now, all that initial shock and numbness have worn off, and you’re being hit with the full force of your grief. This is nature's way of cushioning the blow until your head and your heart can catch up and begin to accept what you really don't want to know. Now there is no more “forgetting” or denying the reality that your beloved mother is physically gone; now you know for certain that she is not coming back. And the pain of that reality is excruciating. You say, “I still feel that after this time I have not fully grieved over her, or that if I do, I will not emerge from the pit of despair.” I’m reminded of Carol Staudacher’s astute observation that grief is not quicksand: Often, a survivor fears that if he shows his sadness, there will be no end to it. If you are among those who feel that you do not know how intense, lengthy, or deep your expression of grief may be, you may find yourself thinking that it would be impossible — or at least very difficult — for you to pull out of grief's deep pit to do all the things you need to do before or after the death. Being afraid of getting sucked down into a hollow of "no return" is not realistic. Grief is not quicksand. Rather, it is a walk on rocky terrain that eventually smoothes out and provides less challenge — both emotionally and physically . . . For example, you may think: I will fall apart and won't be able to function if I start to show how I feel. Replace such thoughts with the more realistic: I will let go for a time, release what I feel, and will be able to function better as a result of having vented the feelings that are an ever-present burden. — Carol Staudacher in Men and Grief: A Guide for Men Surviving the Death of a Loved One You say you “have no business grieving over” your mother: she was 89 years old, in poor health; she was “just my Mom, not a wife or child,” and “the feelings of grief that I have after 4 months are best reserved for these others.” I’m gratified that you added that you “know better after having been on this board for a while.” Still, as you say, Paul, you feel what you feel, and we can’t always control how we feel. It seems to me that you’re spending an awful lot of energy trying to do just that: working to control your feelings instead of simply giving in to them and accepting them. In another of her wise writings, Carol Staudacher observes that Some survivors try to think their way through grief. That doesn't work. Grief is a releasing process, a discovery process, a healing process. We cannot release or discover or heal by the use of our minds alone. The brain must follow the heart at a respectful distance. It is our hearts that ache when a loved one dies. It is our emotions that are most drastically affected. Certainly the mind suffers, the mind recalls, the mind may plot and plan and wish, but it is the heart that will blaze the trail through the thicket of grief. — Carol Staudacher in A Time to Grieve : Meditations for Healing After the Death of a Loved One If you’ve ever worked out on a regular basis, Paul, you know that it requires a great deal of time, effort and commitment – but when done consistently over time, it produces physical, emotional, mental and spiritual benefits. So it is with grief work. Doing the work of mourning takes enormous energy. It is both emotionally and physically exhausting – which serves to explain why you feel so tired, even after retiring early and awakening nine to eleven hours later to “another butt-draggin’ day.” Grief work may well be the hardest work you will ever do, but it can also produce tremendous healing and growth. Much as you may want to forego this labor, whatever issues you don’t address will lie there, waiting to be resolved. When feelings are expressed outwardly, they can be released. When they’re held onto, they just fester and keep on hurting. As you already know, Paul, the work of grieving can be done through private activities such as reading and writing, and with others through talking, participating in bereavement counseling, or finding support in a group (including online virtual support groups like this one). It is an active rather than a passive process, not only of coming to terms with your loss, but also of finding meaning in it as well, so both the painful experience of your loved one’s death and your life without her physical presence will count for something. Have faith that there is both a purpose and an end to the hard work that you are doing, Paul, and trust that you will find your way through this grief of yours. Take responsibility for doing your own grief work, and give yourself credit for doing so. As another wise mourner once said, “Your family, friends and support group may help get you on the right path, but very early in the process you have to get behind the wheel. Only you can complete the road to recovery.” The decisions you make, the feelings you feel, the tears you cry belong to you alone, and no one else can do your grief work for you. That does not mean that you cannot take time out and time off whenever you need to do so. I don’t have to tell you that your grief will be waiting when you return. Ask for help when you need it, from those of us who are working through losses of our own, and from others who understand the grief recovery process. And take all the time you need. Grief work will take more time and effort than you ever thought possible, but you will make it through this, and we are here to help. You may feel isolated, but you are not alone. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Dear One, I'm so very sorry to learn of the death of your friend this past February; please accept my heartfelt sympathy for your loss. You say that you don’t understand why you are so upset about all of this, and your long-term partner doesn’t quite understand either. I’d like to offer some thoughts that I hope may help to clarify. Oftentimes the death of a friend falls into the category of disenfranchised losses – those instances in which grief is an entirely natural response to loss and yet, because the loss is not openly acknowledged, socially sanctioned, or publicly shared, the mourner is deprived of the catharsis and relief that shared grief can bring. As you say, when your friend died, no one in his family notified you of the death, and if there was a funeral or a memorial service, you were neither invited nor included. It is as if, from his family’s perspective, you did not exist in this man’s life – and yet, you know that you mattered enough to him that one of his dying wishes was to be physically intimate with you. In addition, the people in your own circle (other friends, family members, work associates, etc.) do not regard you as a person in mourning, so you are left with no support and comfort at all. As Harold Ivan Smith points out in his lovely little book, When Your Friend Dies, the death of a friend is often considered to be a less significant experience than that of a family member. As a result, the friend left behind feels shunted aside or marginalized in the grieving process. You may feel as if you don't have permission to grieve -- which can make it even more difficult to come to terms with your loss. I just want you to know that the pain you are feeling is real and worthy of your grief. We don't grieve deeply for those we do not love. I encourage you to acknowledge the significance of your relationship with this person, and honor your grief as a measure of the love you feel for your friend. Even if it is not justified (feelings aren’t always rational), you may be feeling guilty for depriving this man of his dying wish to sleep with you, at the same time feeling disloyal to your long-term partner for even considering it – and angry with your present partner for passing judgment on you for something you didn’t even do. On one hand you’re grateful that your friend is no longer suffering – on the other hand, you are now the one who is suffering in silence with the sorrow of missing him. One moment you’re feeling okay, and the next minute you are drowning in tears. These are the conflicting, ambivalent feelings of grief, my friend, and they are normal under the circumstances. You say you “feel like I hadn’t said what I wanted to” and you feel cheated – but it’s never too late to say whatever you feel a need to say to someone who has died! It’s just a matter of finding a way to get those words outside of your head and your heart, whether it’s onto a piece of paper (or onto a computer screen) in the form of a letter, or simply having a heart-to-heart (or heart-to-spirit) talk with your friend, silently or out loud – whatever way feels comfortable and right for you. What’s getting in your way is what we call unfinished business, and it can help immensely to find a way to finish whatever business is left undone (or unsaid) between the two of you. You could write a letter to your friend, saying whatever it is you need to say. You might even try having your friend write a letter back to you, putting down in writing whatever comes through to you from him. (Some counselors suggest writing the letter from you with your dominant hand, and the letter from the deceased person with your opposite hand.) Set aside some quiet, private time to do this, when you know you will not be disturbed. Put some soft music on the stereo, turn off your cell phone and don’t answer the door. Although you didn’t attend your friend's funeral, you still can plan and hold your own private ritual of remembrance. You are limited only by your own imagination. Go to my site’s Memorials ~ Funerals ~ Rituals page to find some very creative ideas for doing this, and see my article, Creating Personal Grief Rituals. I want to refer you to some other resources that may be helpful, too. Knowing what normal grief looks like and feels like can make you feel less crazy and alone, and can give both you and your long-term partner a better understanding of what you can expect in the days and weeks ahead. See especially the articles listed on the Articles page of my Grief Healing Web site, as well as the sites that are listed on my Death of a Friend page. I've also listed a number of other supportive links on my Counseling / Support page. You might be particularly interested in these: Finding Your Way through Grief: A Guide for the First Year (Book) The First Year of Grief: Help for the Journey (Online E-Mail Course) I hope this information proves helpful to you, my friend, and I hope our other members and visitors will share their insights with you as well. Please know that we are thinking of you. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

She hated to see me cry and always said I hate it when you cry . . . I did not want to upset her, and cry. I read a post marty wrote and now I think I did not even do that right because I held back my tears, I did not want her to know how scared I was because I did not want her to be more scared. My dear Shell Louise, It seems to me that behaving toward your mother the way she wanted you to behave, despite how difficult it was for you to do so, and by putting her needs before your own, you were demonstrating the most selfless act of love, and for that you have my deepest respect and admiration. As she lay dying, your mother needed you to be strong. If she regarded crying as a sign of weakness (strong people don’t cry), you accepted that (even if you didn’t agree with her) and by holding back your tears, you conveyed to your mother the strength she needed to see in you so she could let go. I agree with Shell that, knowing her own daughter as well as she did, your mother knew what you were doing and why, and I feel certain too that she saw it as a measure of your deep love for her. You describe yourself as “overly sensitive” because you are easily moved to tears, but I think it’s simply a reflection of your own basic personality. There is nothing wrong with being able to experience a full, rich range of emotions in response to grief. You held onto your tears while your mother was dying because that is what she needed, but now is the time to take care of your own needs. Now is the time to let those tears come, and I hope you will welcome them as a natural and helpful form of release. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Dear Ones, I want to add my voice to this discussion, by gently suggesting to all our members and visitors that it is pointless to compare the magnitude of one person’s loss with that of another. Is it harder to lose a spouse than a parent? Would losing a child be worse than losing a spouse? Would a sudden, unexpected death be harder to accept than a long, slow, painful one? And which is worse: loss of a leg, or loss of an arm? Would you rather lose your eyesight or your hearing? Your home or your job? These losses are neither better or worse, harder or easier, one from another – rather, they are each different from one another. There is not a person among us who can answer any of these questions honestly unless and until that particular loss has happened to us, and even then, it would be different for each one of us, depending on our own individual circumstances and the meaning we attach to what we have lost. Grief is not just confined to losing a person through death.Intense feelings of loss can come from the ending of a marriage by separation or divorce. A move can produce feelings of grief. A rape. A job loss. Loss of a body part or body function. Financial loss. Loss of dignity and respect. Loss of a pet. One of the most difficult counseling situations I ever had involved Jonathan whose seeing-eye dog of ten years, Angel, died. Angel was Jonathan's live-in partner, his dearest family member, his closest work associate, his trusted servant, his most faithful friend, an actual extension of himself, a literal part of his being -- his eyes. When Angel died, all of that was lost. - Douglas C. Smith, MA, MS, MDiv I believe that one of the greatest benefits of these online discussion forums is that, by posting, reading and responding to the messages written here, we'll all come to a greater understanding of the grief that accompanies all the different kinds of loss we may experience in life, and we’ll learn to be more caring, accepting and tolerant of one another. Here in this warm and caring place, we recognize that grief is neither a contest nor a competition. For every single person here, at this moment in time, our own loss is the worst that could happen to anyone. We are not here to pass judgment on the strength or legitimacy of anyone else’s grief. Where there is loss, there is grief. Pain is pain. Only you can know the special place in your life and in your heart that was occupied by your loved one, and you are the only one who can measure just how much you have lost. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

My dear friend, It seems to me that as you travel this journey of grief, it’s important to figure out what brings you comfort and do what works for you. This is your journey, and it is for you alone to decide how you will travel the path and what you will need to take with you as you proceed. As one who has listened to countless stories of the many different ways people have chosen to memorialize their loved ones, I can assure you that what you are considering is neither funny nor weird. I’m reminded of a time when, in one of my grief support groups, a recently widowed woman described the agony she had felt at the thought of leaving her husband’s cremains in a mortuary in New York, now that she had relocated to Arizona. As a devout Catholic, she knew that while cremation is now acceptable in the Catholic Church, it is required that the cremains be put to rest in a “holy place,” such as burial in a grave or placement in a columbarium in a Catholic cemetery. What she really wanted, however, was to keep her husband’s cremains close to her, preferably in a special place of honor somewhere in her bedroom. Despite the immense guilt she felt at doing so, she listened to her heart and brought the urn containing her husband’s cremains with her to her home in Arizona. Earlier that day, just before she came to our support group, she’d finally summoned the courage to discuss this matter with her pastor, and wanted to share with our group his response. “My dear,” her priest had said, “your home is a holy place.” I simply cannot describe the look of joy on this woman’s face, the weight that was visibly lifted from her shoulders, and the peace of mind she obviously had obtained from this man's simple but wise and wonderful statement. I wanted to go find that priest and hug him. When my own father died over twenty years ago in northern Michigan, I did not know enough to take a lock of his hair, or to keep a portion of his cremains after we had his body cremated, according to his wishes. By the time my mother died a few years later in Florida, my sister and I held a private ceremony for ourselves and scattered her cremains amongst the red rocks in Sedona, at the Chapel of the Holy Cross – which was my way of bringing my mother to a “holy place” in Arizona. But this time my sister and I were brave enough to separate out and save a portion of her cremains, so a part of her would always be close to each of us. I placed my portion in a china sugar bowl that was part of a set that my father had sent home to my mother when he was stationed overseas during World War II. I sealed the container, and it now sits in a place of honor in a cabinet in my bedroom, with a picture of my mother next to it. It gives me comfort, and I feel her presence every time I look at it. Like Bebekat and Maylissa, I now know of many creative ways that people have found to keep a portion of their loved one’s cremains with them – I've placed links to many of them on the Memorials ~ Funerals ~ Rituals page of my Grief Healing Web site. As I’ve said elsewhere, you are limited only by your own imagination, and you need to do whatever brings you comfort. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

You bet it's a start, Spela, and we'll take it! We're all very, very proud of you! Think of it this way: The only courage that matters is the kind that gets you from one moment to the next. — Mignon McLaughlin Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

My dear Shubom, Unfortunately, as you have discovered, guilt is a natural and common component of grief. It’s a normal response to the perception that we’ve somehow failed in our duties and obligations or that we’ve done something wrong. It generates a whole mixture of feelings including doubt, shame, inadequacy, insecurity, failure, unworthiness, self judgment and blame, anxiety and fear of punishment. When a loved one dies, it’s only human for us to search for an explanation, to dwell on the why’s, what if’s and if only’s. Even if there is no basis for it, we often feel guilty for what we did or didn’t do, said or failed to say when our loved one was alive. We adult children often think that it is our personal responsibility to keep our parents healthy, protect them from illness and save them from death – and we feel like failures when we discover that we cannot. In his book, Understanding Your Grief, Alan Wolfelt writes, The “if-onlys” are natural for you to explore, even if there is no logical way in which you are responsible for the death. What you’re really feeling, at bottom, is a lack of control over what happened. And accepting that we have little control over the lives of those we love is a difficult thing indeed. You ask why your parents didn’t care enough about themselves to take better care of their own health, which of course reflects your own need to understand, as you search for answers you can live with. This, too, is a normal and very healthy response to loss. Death and dying are mysteries to be pondered, and there is no satisfactory explanation when loss occurs – but it’s important that we ask such questions anyway. Death forces us to confront the spiritual questions we may have been avoiding or haven’t taken time to address – the questions that get at the very heart and meaning of life: Why this? Why me? Why now? Who am I now that this person has died? Where do I go from here? As grief educator and author Harold Ivan Smith points out in his book, Grievers Ask, “Grappling with the ‘why’ questions are the heart of the hard work of grief . . . Never be in a hurry to formulate or settle on an answer.” He goes on to suggest that a better question than Why me? might be instead, If me, what can I learn from this? “Some individuals will never find an acceptable answer to a ‘why’ question,” he writes, “but about 99.9 percent of the time you will find an acceptable answer to a ‘now what’ question.” Here is one mother’s poignant description of how she moved through that very process: For a long time I was obsessed with why Mitch had ended his life. I thought that I needed to discover the real cause of his hopelessness. I studied and analyzed what I believed to be his suicide note . . . Finally, I perceived that a death by suicide is a result of factors too numerous to count. I wanted to know why, but I didn't have to have an answer in order to go on living my own life. Even the most experienced and astute investigators are finally forced to make what at best is only an educated guess. It is important, however, to ask why. It is important to worry about why, because one finally exhausts possibility after possibility and ultimately one tires of the fruitless search. Then it is time to let it go and to start healing. -- Iris Bolton in My Son...My Son: A Guide to Healing After a Suicide in the Family Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Dear Ones, It’s understandable that you “couldn’t be around people who don’t understand,” and many mourners feel exactly the same way you do. Few in our culture are comfortable with the subject of death, and few of us know how to cope with the pain of loss and grief. Instead we learn to control our feelings and hide our pain so we won’t disturb other people. Some of us equate mourning openly with self-indulgence or self-pity. We may be too embarrassed or ashamed to let our emotions show in front of others. We may feel isolated, different and apart from everyone else, convinced that no one understands and we must grieve alone. We feel stunned at the normalcy of life around us as others go about their business, totally unaware that our world has stopped and our entire life has been turned upside down. We may be reluctant to turn to others, either because we haven’t learned to accept or ask for help, or because we’re afraid others won’t know what to do with our feelings. If they’re unfamiliar with the intensity and duration of grief or uncomfortable with the expression of strong emotions, they may offer only meaningless platitudes or clichés, change the subject or avoid us altogether. I hope that as each of you travels your own grief journey, you will resist the isolation and loneliness, and feel more empowered to seek out the support of those who do understand what you’re going through. As author, educator and grief counselor Alan Wolfelt says, A catalyst for healing . . . can only be created when you develop the courage to mourn publicly, in the presence of understanding, compassionate people who will not judge you. At times, of course, you will grieve alone, but expressing your grief outside of yourself [i.e., “mourning”] is necessary if you are to slowly and gently move forward . . . You need companionship from time to time as you journey. You need people who will walk beside you and provide you with ‘divine momentum’– affirmations that what you are doing is right and necessary for you and will lead to your eventual healing. You do not need people who want to walk in front of you and lead you down the path they think is right, nor do you need people who want to walk behind you and not be present to you in your pain . . . Sharing your pain with others won’t make it disappear, but it will, over time, make it more bearable. Reaching out for help also connects you to other people and strengthens the bonds of love that make life seem worth living again. Reaching out to others is often very difficult when you’re struggling with grief, but the more support and understanding you have around you, the better you will cope. You may wish that others would just be there for you without your having to ask, but that’s not likely to happen. It’s not that they are uncaring; there simply is no way for them to fully understand the significance of your loss and the depth of your pain. That’s why it’s so important that you inform your family, friends and associates about what’s going on with you, and let them know what they can do for you that will help. People aren’t going to know what you need from them unless you first figure out what you need and from whom, and let them know directly and specifically. I encourage you to really think about who is supportive to you in your environment and what gives your life purpose and direction. Ask yourself: With whom are you most comfortable, and who is the most comfortable (accepting and caring) with your grief? Look for those who will listen without judging you, or for those who have suffered a similar loss. (That’s why support groups such as this one are so helpful – you don’t have to explain to anyone here, or in an "in person" grief support group either, why you are feeling and reacting as you are!) Be honest with others about what you are feeling. Allow yourself to express your sadness rather than masking it. Don’t expect others to guess what you need! When you want to be touched, held, hugged, listened to or pampered, you need to say so. If all you want from others is help with simple errands, tasks, and repairs, say so. Let others (especially children) know if and when you need to be alone, so they won’t feel rejected. I also suggest that you take some time to sit down and identify all the people, groups and activities in your life that form your personal network of support and help give meaning to your life. Consider asking a friend or family member to help you develop a more complete listing, especially if you don’t have the energy to do this by yourself. Write down each potential source of support, including their name, telephone number and address, so you’ll have them handy when you need them. People you can depend on might include family members, relatives, friends, neighbors, teachers, colleagues, clergy, your family physician, family lawyer, accountant, insurance agent, and hospice bereavement staff. Groups might include your church community or your affiliation with work or special interest circles, clubs and organizations, and grief support groups. Activities could include: •Listing all the interests, activities, hobbies, courses or skills you’ve enjoyed in the past or always wanted to pursue, and following up on at least one of them each week or each month. (Spela's dog classes are a perfect example.) •Visiting your public library or local bookstore and asking for information, literature, films, audiocassettes, CDs, DVDs and videotapes on grief, bereavement and loss. •Finding local chapters of national self-help and support organizations related to your specific type of loss. •Watching and listening for announcements of lectures, workshops and seminars on grief in the community. (Check local radio and television stations, newspapers and bulletin boards in your grocery store, library, church or school.) As for seeking professional help, I want to refer you to my post that appeared on January 25, 2006 in the Loss of a Parent or Grandparent forum, as I think it may have relevance for you, too. Just click on this link: http://griefhealingdiscussiongroups.com/index.php?show...3415entry3415 Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Dear Friend, I commend you for seeking information on how best to offer help to your former neighbor who suffered a miscarriage. All too often such a death is trivialized by our society as an insignificant occurrence, which can leave your friend feeling very angry, isolated and alone. Her heartache may be misunderstood by others, which may give her the impression that it is inappropriate and even abnormal to be mourning the loss of her baby. But the death of any baby is worthy of tears and grief, no matter what the age. And if your friend and her husband really wanted and planned for this child, she has lost much more than her baby. She’s lost all the hopes and dreams she may have had for her little one as well. She’s lost the opportunity to mother him, to hold him, to love him and to watch him grow up. I sincerely hope that this woman has someone to talk to about this. Grieving is difficult enough without having to do it all alone. She needs to find someone who understands the process of grief as well as the trauma of a miscarriage. Sharing her feelings, reactions and experiences with another (her husband, a trusted friend or neighbor such as yourself, a bereavement counselor, someone on the Internet, a clergy person or in a support group comprised of other grieving parents) gives her a safe place to express herself, helps her understand that what she is feeling is normal, and may give her the hope that if others have found a way to survive a loss like this, then she will find her own way, too. If this woman doesn’t have the energy to do so herself, on her behalf you might consider contacting your local hospice organization, mortuary, church or synagogue, or even your local library, and ask what bereavement counseling services are available in your own community. It’s also beneficial for your friend (or yourself, again on her behalf) to spend some time on the Internet, exploring many of the caring sites devoted to this important topic. Most of these sites have been developed by grieving parents whose feelings and experiences may be similar to this mother’s own. Many of them are listed on the Death of an Infant, Child, Grandchild page of my Grief Healing Web site. You might encourage your friend to visit these sites in particular: Baby Steps Bereaved Parents of the USA - Home Page The Compassionate Friends: Grief Support after the Death of a Child Hygeia Institute for Perinatal Loss M.E.N.D. Mommies Enduring Neonatal Death MISS - Mothers in Sympathy and Support SHARE - Pregnancy and Infant Loss Support A Place to Remember: Resources Related to Miscarriage, Stillbirth, Infant Loss TX Moms of Tiny Angels Another resource available to your neighbor is this very online Grief Healing Discussion Group. You can let her know that our Loss of a Child grief forum is available to her right here, at no cost, 24 hours a day, seven days a week, and she is most welcome to participate. I strongly believe that when you’re trying to help someone in grief, information is power. You might also be interested in some of the sites and resources I have listed on my site's Helping Someone Who Is Grieving page. I encourage you to access – and help your friend to find – the wealth of information that is available to you both. I hope you will think of it as the most precious gift you can give to this woman at this sad and difficult time. My thoughts and prayers are with you both. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

I too am pleased to learn that you were able to “clear the air” in the talk you had with your husband yesterday, Maylissa. It so happens that I've just finished reading Joan Didion's new book, The Year of Magical Thinking, in which she explores her feelings and reactions in the months following the sudden, unexpected death of her husband from a massive heart attack. When I read this particular passage, Maylissa, I thought of you and the discussions you've been having with your husband: Grief turns out to be a place none of us know until we reach it. We anticipate (we know) that someone close to us could die, but we do not look beyond the few days or weeks that immediately follow such an imagined death. We misconstrue the nature of even those few days or weeks. We might expect if the death is sudden to feel shock. We do not expect this shock to be obliterative, dislocating to both body and mind. We might expect that we will be prostrate, inconsolable, crazy with loss. We do not expect to be literally crazy, cool customers who believe that their husband is about to return and need his shoes. In the version of grief we imagine, the model will be “healing.” A certain forward movement will prevail. The worst days will be the earliest days. We imagine that the moment to most severely test us will be the funeral, after which this hypothetical healing will take place. When we anticipate the funeral we wonder about failing to “get through it,” rise to the occasion, exhibit the “strength” that invariably gets mentioned as the correct response to death. We anticipate needing to steel ourselves for the moment: will I be able to greet people, will I be able to leave the scene, will I be able even to get dressed that day? We have no way of knowing that this will not be the issue. We have no way of knowing that the funeral itself will be anodyne, a kind of narcotic regression in which we are wrapped in the care of others and the gravity and meaning of the occasion. Nor can we know ahead of the fact (and here lies the heart of the difference between grief as we imagine it and grief as it is) the unending absence that follows, the void, the very opposite of meaning, the relentless succession of moments during which we will confront the experience of meaninglessness itself. [pp. 188-9]

My dear Ali, I’m so very sorry to learn of the death of your beloved Mighty King Joe. I can see from his picture what an adorable fellow he was, and I can only imagine how difficult it must have been for you to let him go. How empty your home and your heart must seem now, without your faithful companion beside you! These dear little dogs have a way of weaving their way into every aspect of our daily lives, and the love they give to us is absolutely unconditional and irreplaceable. It is obvious from your tragic story that despite everything you and your veterinarian tried to shrink your Baby Joe’s tumors, his body was failing him. I'm sure you would have done anything to prolong his life if you could have. Making the euthanasia decision for our cherished companion animals is one of the most difficult things we ever have to do, and I know this must have been terribly hard for you. Yet I'm sure your precious Joe knew how very much you loved him, and I have a feeling that he would have understood that this was your final act of love for him. I don't know if you've ever spent any time on my Grief Healing Web site, but if you go to my Comfort for Grieving Animal Lovers page,I think you will appreciate many of the writings you'll find there and I hope you'll find them helpful. See especially Rita Reynolds' beautiful piece, Euthanasia, The Merciful Release. See also an excerpt from her beautiful book, in which she describes how she coped with the death (from cancer) of her beloved honey colored terrier, Oliver: http://www.blessingthebridge.com/excerpt.htm"]Blessing the Bridge: What Animals Teach Us about Death, Dying and Beyond. I hope, too, that you will give yourself permission to mourn this loss and to experience your grief for Mighty King Joe as legitimate and real. Unfortunately many people tend to underestimate the pain of losing a cherished pet, but only you know what this precious little dog meant to you, and only you can measure just how very much you have lost. Sometimes it helps just to do some reading about this different kind of grief, as it helps you feel less "crazy" and alone. See, for example, my article, Coping with Pet Loss: Am I crazy to Feel So Sad about This? (Links to much of what I've written about pet loss are listed on the Articles and Books page of my Grief Healing Web site; see also my Pet Loss Links Page, and click on the category labeled PET LOSS ARTICLES.) Finally, I want you to know that, if you live here in the Valley, there are many pet loss resources available to you right here in Phoenix, including our Pet Grief Support Telephone Helpline (602-995-5885) and our monthly Pet Grief Support Group, held at Hospice of the Valley’s central office in Phoenix, on the first Saturday of every month. See the Pet Grief Support Services page for further details. You will also find a great deal of empathy, comfort and support among the wonderful people in this forum, all of whom understand from their own personal experience the agony of pet loss. No one can take your pain away at this sad and difficult time, Ali, but I can assure you that you are not alone. Please know that we are thinking of you and holding you close as you embark on this journey of grief. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Dear Ones, The topic of grief dreams is fascinating, and one that we've discussed previously in these forums. If you've not seen it already, you might want to read the post in our Behaviors in Bereavement forum entitled "Strange Dreams about Death," dated 28 November 2005. You can access it directly by clicking on this link: http://hovforum.ipbhost.com/index.php?show...st=0entry2900

Oh, Bebekat, I am so, so sorry -- and can I ever relate! This has happened to me a number of times, especially when I was new to this method of communicating. I know it is incredibly frustrating, and it feels like yet another loss -- when your entire world already is filled with nothing but loss. I do not know why your message got lost in cyberspace, and I cannot tell you how to get it back. But here is something you might try, so that at least it won't happen to you again the next time. Open your word processing program (Word or Word Perfect) and type and save the content of your message there. Then, once it's saved, "cut and paste" it onto your "clipboard" -- then go into the forum where you want to put your post, just as you've always done, and using the Edit function at the top of your screen, simply "paste" it into the white space where you'd ordinarily type your post. That way, if anything happens to your text, you still can go back to your word processing program and retrieve it. I'd also suggest that you send a private message to Steve G and see what he would recommend. He knows a whole lot more about the mechanics of this computer stuff than I do. Again, I'm so sorry -- I truly do know how it feels to put your all into a response, only to have it disappear before your eyes. I cannot tell you how many times that used to happen to me. Now I always type out my responses first, and save them, before I add them to these forums. Hoping this helps, Marty T

In hopes that it may shed some light on the subject, let me offer the following: Understanding Different Grieving Patterns in Your Family*Grief Is a Family Affair When one member of a family dies, the entire family is affected, as each person grieves their own personal loss in their own unique way. Roles and responsibilities shift; relationships change; communication and mutual support among family members may suffer. Over time, the family must identify what the roles and functions of the lost member were, decide whose job it will be to execute those duties now, and learn how to compensate for their absence. Men, women and children are very different from one another, not just in personality patterns that affect how they think, feel and behave, but also in how they grieve. When someone dies, they will not experience or express their reactions in the same way. Failure to understand and accept these different ways of grieving can result in hurt feelings and conflict between partners and among family members during a very difficult time. Differences in Personality Differing personality patterns among family members will affect how each one individually expresses, experiences and deals with grief. While we all have the capacity to react to loss in a variety of ways, recent personality research shows that there are three basic styles or patterns of grieving: instrumental, intuitive, and dissonant. Typically a person trusts and prefers one pattern of response over the other two, and will behave accordingly. Instrumental grievers experience and speak of their grief intellectually and physically. They are most comfortable with seeking accurate information, analyzing facts, making informed decisions and taking action to solve problems. Remaining strong, dispassionate and detached in the face of powerful emotions , they may speak of their grief in an intellectual way, thus appearing to others as cold and uncaring, or as having no feelings at all. Intuitive grievers experience a full, rich range of emotions in response to grief. Comfortable with strong emotions and tears, they are sensitive to their own feelings and to the feelings of others as well. Since they feel strong emotions so deeply, they’re less able to rationalize and intellectualize the pain of grief, and more likely to appear overwhelmed and devastated by it. Dissonant grievers encounter a conflict between the way they experience their grief internally and the way they express it outwardly, which produces a persistent discomfort and lack of harmony. The “dissonance” or conflict may be due to family, cultural or social traditions. Although their grief may be profound and strongly felt, they struggle to hide their true feelings, in order to preserve the image they wish to project to the public. Others may condemn themselves and feel very guilty for not feeling whatever they think is expected of them to feel. Gender Differences Men are more often instrumental grievers. They tend to put their feelings into action, experiencing their grief physically rather than emotionally. They deal with their loss by focusing on goal-oriented activities which activate thinking, doing and acting. Rather than endlessly talking about or crying over the person who died, for example, a man may throw himself into time-limited tasks such as planting a memorial garden or writing a poem or a eulogy. Such activities give a man not only a sense of potency and accomplishment as he enters his grief, but also a means of escaping it when the task is done. If a man relates the details of his loss to his closest male friends, it’s likely to be around activities like hunting, fishing, sporting events and card games. Although a man may let himself cry in his grief, he’ll usually do it alone, in secret or in the dark — which may lead some to conclude that he must not be grieving at all. Women, on the other hand, tend to be intuitive grievers. They have been socialized to be more open with their feelings. They may feel a greater need to talk with others who are comfortable with strong emotions and willing to listen without judgment. Unfortunately, while it may be more acceptable for women in our culture to be expressive and emotional, all too often in grief they’re criticized for being too sentimental or overly sensitive. Grieving in Children Children grieve just as deeply as adults, but depending on their cognitive and emotional development, they will experience and express their grief differently from the grownups around them. Their response will depend on the knowledge and skills available to them at the time of the loss. More than anything else, children need their parents to be honest with them. They need accurate, factual information, freedom to ask questions and express their feelings, inclusion in decisions, discussions and family commemorative rituals, stable, consistent attention from their caretakers, and time to explore and come to terms with the meaning of their loss. Allowing for Individual Differences The way we grieve is as individual as we are, and our own gender biases may influence how we “read” another gender’s grieving. Some females may be instrumental in pattern and style, and will grieve in traditionally “masculine” ways, and some males may be more intuitive by nature, and therefore will grieve in traditionally “feminine” ways. Regardless of differences in personality, gender and age, however, the pressures of grief are still present for all family members, and the tasks of mourning are the same: to confront, endure and work through the emotional effects of the death so the loss can be dealt with successfully. Grief must be expressed and released in order to be resolved, and all family members need encouragement to identify and release emotions, to talk about and share their thoughts, and to accept help and support from others. Suggestions for Coping with Different Grieving Patterns: ∙Understand that our own gender biases may influence how we “read” another gender’s grieving. ∙Although men and women grieve differently, neither way is inappropriate. ∙It is not helpful to take sides, supporting one way of grieving over another. ∙The way we grieve is as individual as we are: some men grieve in traditionally “feminine” ways and some women grieve in traditionally “masculine” ways. ∙What looks like inappropriate behavior may be a man’s way of avoiding feelings or displaying emotions publicly. A man should not be judged for how he is grieving. ∙If a man seems more angry than sad at the death of a loved one, he may just be angry at the situation — and anger may be the only way he knows to express his grief. It’s useful in such cases not to take the man’s anger personally, or to react defensively against it. ∙Some men turn to drugs or alcohol in an effort to numb the pain of loss, or to lower their inhibitions so they can let loose their emotions. They need to know that, because alcohol is a depressant, it will only add to the sadness they’re already feeling. ∙Men are less likely to seek the support of others (either individually or in a group) in order to express (think, talk, cry, or write about) their feelings, especially if they don’t feel respected, or if they find certain aspects of grief to be embarrassing. A man needs encouragement to share his reactions and emotions, to explore what his loved one’s death means to him, and to acknowledge how the loss affects his life. ∙Men often appear to be further along in the grieving process than they actually are. Even if a man appears to be all right, it is unwise to make assumptions about what he is feeling. When in doubt, ask! ∙Death and loss are natural parts of living; shielding children from grief is futile and gives them no role models to learn healthy, normal coping behaviors. ∙Offer explanations that are age appropriate and at the child’s level of understanding. A child under age five needs comfort and support rather than detailed explanations, whereas a child over age five needs information that is simple, accurate, plain and direct. ∙Help children understand what “dead” means (that the body stops working and won’t work anymore) and that death is not the same as sleeping (that the sleeping body is still working, but just resting). ∙Be open and meticulously honest. If children discover that you’ve distorted the truth or lied to them, they’ll have a great deal of trouble trusting you again. ∙Don’t use confusing or misleading euphemisms such as “passed away” or “gone on”. Such phrases imply the person who died is on a trip and will return, leave children feeling rejected or abandoned, or encourage them to go searching for the person or hold out hope for his or her return. ∙Relieve the child of any feelings of responsibility for the death; magical thinking may lead a child to conclude that something s/he did, wished or imagined somehow caused the death. ∙Respect and encourage your children’s needs to express and share feelings of sadness. When you bring up the subject, you’re showing your own willingness to talk about it. When in doubt about your children’s thoughts and feelings, ask. ∙Don’t feel as if you must have all the answers; sometimes just listening is enough. Expect that young children will ask and need answers to the same questions over and over again. ∙Don’t cut off their feelings by noting how well your children are handling their grief or how brave or strong they are. Let them see you upset and crying, which implies that it’s all right to cry for those we love and lose. ∙Children and adolescents may be reluctant to express their thoughts and feelings verbally. Encourage them to express their grief and preserve their memories in a variety of ways, including art, music, journal writing, story telling and picture collecting. ∙Assure adolescents that conflict in relationships between teens and adults is a normal part of growing up, and they need not feel guilty or ambivalent about that. ∙Give teenagers permission not to be grieving all the time. If they’ve expressed their feelings and talked about the loss with others (family, friends, teachers and other helpers) it may not be useful for them to focus further on their loss. It’s not disloyal of them to want to put their grief aside and enjoy life again. ∙Let children and adolescents plan and participate in commemorative family rituals. ∙Children will cope only as well as the adults around them; helping yourself will help your children. ∙Alert significant adults in your child’s life (family doctor, teachers, school counselor, caretakers, relatives, friends) about the death in your family. Ask their help in keeping a watchful eye on your child, and ask for their additional support and understanding during this difficult time. ∙Find and read some of the many wonderful stories and books written especially for children to help them better understand death and grief. (See the Books for Children and Those Who Love Them section of my Articles and Books page for suggestions.) ∙Consider enrolling your child(ren) or adolescent(s) in the Children / Family Bereavement Support Group offered twice yearly at Hospice of The Valley. Please see the support group calendar or call the Bereavement Office for details. *Source: Finding Your Way through Grief: A Guide for the First Year , © 1999 - 2006 by Marty Tousley, APRN, BC, CT ________________________________________________ If you are interested, here are two excellent books that explore in greater depth the subject of male pattern grieving: Men Don't Cry, Women Do, by Terry L. Martin and Kenneth J. Doka Swallowed by a Snake: The Gift of the Masculine Side of Healing, by Tom Golden. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

My dear Clam, I'm so sorry to learn of the death of your mother when you were so very young. Forgive me -- I cannot tell from your posts whether you are male or female, but I want to offer some information that I hope will be helpful to you. You say that “altho my grief may seem like nothing because it was 10 years ago – i should b over it by now.” I want to assure you that the sadness you are feeling still today, so many years after your mother's death, is both understandable and normal. It may interest you to know that research indicates that the loss of a parent in early childhood does indeed have an ongoing effect on the life of a person, through adolescence and on into adulthood. Grief expert J. William Worden, who served as Co-Director of the Child Bereavement Study at Harvard Medical School, states that: It may be that the most important long-term consequence of parental death during childhood is neither depression nor anxiety disorder, as important as these are, because these only affect a small percentage of adults with childhood parental loss. Rather, the most important long-term impact may be their continuing sense of emptiness and an ongoing need to rethink who this parent would have been in their lives had he or she remained alive. This ongoing presence of the lost parent is strong for most people, even though they may have had adequate parenting by the surviving parent or parent surrogate (J. William Worden, in Children and Grief When a Parent Dies, The Guilford Press, New York, 1996, p. 110). You say that no one in your family even mentions your mother anymore, “and then theres me...the one that cant quite ever get over it. the one thats too young to have memories that arnt created frm photos or scrapes from other people.the one that never bloody gets to tlk about it.” Whatever grief you were not permitted to experience or express as a child hasn’t gone anywhere, my dear, and I think the reason you “cant sleep” sometimes is because your grief is still lying there in your mind and in your heart, unaddressed. It sounds as if not much was said about whatever grief you may have felt right after your mother died and over the last ten years as you were growing up. If your efforts to ask and learn about your mother were met with resistance from your father, your older sisters, your stepmother and your other relatives, it only adds to your feelings of loss, because without their cooperation, you cannot construct any real memories of her. I would venture to say that most people in your position would feel exactly the way that you are feeling now: sad, frustrated and angry. That's one of the realities of grief. As you have discovered, if we cannot give it the attention it demands at the time of our loss, our grief doesn't get resolved -- it simply goes dormant and waits for us to take care of it. And sooner or later, when something happens to "trigger" it, out it comes, just as if the loss had happened yesterday. Regardless of what others in your family may be telling you about this death, one of the greatest myths about grief is that the day will come when we "get over it." Grief is a normal reaction to a significant loss, and it's something we all get through and learn to carry with us as we go on to live our lives, but we never, ever get over it. And there is no time frame for grief. The bond you have with your mother will continue as long as you hold the memory of her – or at least the memory of who you’d like to think she was – alive in your heart. Even though the two of you never got to know each other because she died at such an early age and when you yourself were so young, you still may find yourself grieving the loss of what never was and will never be. Grief produces all kinds of conflicting feelings, most commonly those of anger and guilt – which over time can become quite distorted, unless we share them with someone else (a trusted friend, a relative, a clergy person, a grief counselor). Feelings exposed to the light of day can be acknowledged, examined, evaluated, worked through and resolved. Feelings that are stuffed just sit there and fester, making us feel miserable, crazy, sick and alone. You may have heard that "time will heal all wounds" but I'm sure you've learned by now that the passage of time doesn't do anything to heal your grief – time is neutral. It's what you do with the time that matters. Grieving successfully requires the hard work of confronting, expressing and working through the pain of your loss. The good news is that it is never too late to do the work of grieving. That's because unresolved grief doesn't go anywhere - it just lies there waiting for us to deal with it - and when the pain of grief keeps coming up for us despite our efforts to ignore it, we are wise to pay it the attention it demands. So I strongly encourage you to find someone to talk to individually about all of this, my friend. I don’t know where you live or what resources are available to you, but I think it’s important to find someone who knows something about the normal grieving process, so that issues specifically related to the early loss of your mother can be addressed. You say that this year for the ten-year anniversary of your mother’s death you’ll “be away at university” – perhaps you could investigate whatever grief support services are available on your campus and take advantage of those. At the very least, as this special date approaches, I would encourage you to go ahead and plan a personal, private ritual of remembrance that honors your loss and pays tribute to your mother. Of course you’re certainly most welcome to continue posting here in our Loss of a Parent forum, which is like a virtual support group in that it puts you in touch with others whose experiences may be similar to your own. I think it's also helpful to read all you can about grief to learn what is normal and what you can do to manage your own reactions (for examples, see the Articles and Books page on my own Grief Healing Web site. See also the sites listed on my site’s Death of a Parent page.) Take a look at the on-line email course on grief that I wrote for Self Healing Expressions, The First Year of Grief: Help for the Journey. Find and read some of the wonderful stories written by others whose mothers have died; this will help you see that you are not alone, and will give you the hope that if others managed to get through such a devastating loss, then somehow you will find your own way, too. See, for example, the book reviews of Maxine Harris's book, The Loss That Is Forever: The Lifelong Impact of the Early Death of a Mother or Father at Amazon.com. At Grieving The Loss of a Parent , Alexandra Kennedy makes the point that relationships don’t have to end when a loved one dies. In her insightful writings, she describes many ways to reconnect with a deceased parent, including with dreams, letter-writing and guided imagery. I think it's important to recognize that even though you're still feeling sorrow over the loss of your mother now, it doesn't necessarily mean that you haven't made any progress in your grief journey. As we grow and develop through the years, our grief changes right along with us. This grief will change you as well, influencing who you are in the present and affecting who you'll become in the future. This death of this important person must be worked through, adapted to, and integrated into your life repeatedly, as different situations and developmental milestones will require you to accommodate this loss of your mother again and again. You will re-visit your mother's death continually as you grapple with its meaning – emotionally, socially, economically and spiritually – and as you struggle to find a place for her in your present and future life. I sincerely hope this information proves helpful to you, my dear. Grieving is very hard work, but it is manageable and there are many resources "out there" that can help. Please know that we’re all thinking of you, and we hope you will continue to use this warm and caring place to "put it out there." We are here for you, and we stand ready to listen to whatever it is you need to say. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

I find myself avoiding everyone and giving everyone the mean eye to avoid me. Get out of my way, leave me alone. I've started a hunger strike and find myself crying and driving at high speeds. I just can't take it no more. So if you see me on the road.....I'm sorry... My dear Shubom, I'm so very sorry that you have lost both your parents, and I cannot imagine the depth of your sorrow, pain and anger. I would not for a moment take those feelings away from you, because they are legitimate, justified and completely understandable. I am concerned, however, with how you may be managing those feelings, particularly when you say that you are engaging in risky behavior such as starting a "hunger strike" and "driving at high speeds." Feelings are neither right or wrong, good or bad -- they just are, and we cannot always control how we feel -- most especially when we are in the throes of acute grief. But there is a vast difference between what we are feeling and what we choose to do with those feelings, and we do have a choice about how we behave. If you really believe that you are losing control over your behavior (not your feelings), if you feel as if you are a danger to yourself (as in starving yourself) or a danger to others (as in driving recklessly and putting yourself and others on the highway at risk), then I urge you to seek professional help at once. That said, I want to emphasize that feeling anger and outrage that your parents have been taken from you is a normal reaction, because it is indeed an outrageous thing that's happened to you, and it's only human that you would rage against such an injustice! You see, when you simply acknowledge feelings of anger to yourself or to a trusted other (or in a safe and caring forum such as this one)without actually doing anything about them, no harm is done, to you or to anyone else. On the other hand, if your anger is suppressed and held on to, eventually you could erupt like a volcano -- or you could internalize it and take it out on yourself. You could also misdirect your anger toward innocent others, such as family, friends and co-workers. As I've written in my book, Finding Your Way through Grief, anger is a powerful emotion that can be frightening. But feeling angry doesn't necessarily imply that you will lose control or take your anger out unfairly on others. You have several other options. If you think of anger as raw energy, you will think of ways to discharge that energy in appropriate, non-destructive ways that will bring no harm to yourself, to others or to anybody's property. Find a safe place, space, activity and time where you can let your anger out (through physical exercise, hobbies and crafts, music, writing, talking with someone you trust who won't judge you, asking others for support rather than expecting them to know what you need from them, etc.) As I think you've already discovered, pounding out your anger on your computer keyboard can be an extremely helpful and appropriate way to discharge some of that energy. This board is here for you to do just that, 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Use it to rid yourself of some of that rage. You will be harming no one, and there is not a person here who will judge you for doing it. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

My dear Gracey, I’m so very sorry to learn that your mother is dying, and I can only imagine how painful it must be for you to be so far away, yet so fearful of going to see her, so helpless in the face of this horrible disease. It is extremely difficult to know from a distance that your loved one’s health and quality of life are deteriorating this way, much less having to witness it firsthand. And as you have discovered, you are already experiencing all the emotions of grief in anticipation of losing your mother. This is known as anticipatory mourning, and the physical and emotional reactions involved are the same as those experienced in normal grief. You say that you don’t want to cry, but you’re crying anyway, as your body “does things of its own.” You feel sick at the thought of seeing your mother like this, and you worry how you will control your tears when you get there. I wonder, Gracey, how you would feel if your own daughter knew you were dying and refused to cry for you? And if she did cry, how would you read her tears? It seems to me that crying in your mother’s presence simply shows how deeply you care about her, and how deeply saddened you are to know that she is dying. Perhaps your tears will speak much more powerfully to your mother than any words you could possibly say. As Washington Irving has written, There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than 10,000 tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love. I know you’re worried about how you’ll ever find the courage to go to your mother’s bedside and face whatever lies ahead. Somehow we think real courage is about soldiers being the first ones to charge up the hill, or about firefighters running into a burning building when everyone else is running out. Yet real courage is simply facing that which we're most afraid of, and doing it anyway despite our fear. Somehow you will find the strength to do what you need to do, Gracey, and you will be glad you did. Think of how you would feel if you chose not to go to your mother, and missed this opportunity to be with her one last time. Maybe you can think of this as the priceless gift that only you can take to her. You don’t say whether your mother is aware of her condition, or if you’ve talked about it openly with each other, and I’m wondering if that may be part of what’s giving you such pain right now. If she already is on hospice care, your mother probably knows a whole lot more about her illness than anyone else does, even if she does not acknowledge it to those around her. Keep in mind that this is her life, and her dying, and she will do it the way that she needs to do it. Also remember that we human beings are pretty well defended – we hear what we want to hear and keep out the rest. That is how each of us just gets through the day. Your mother will face her dying as she is ready to do so, and for all you know, she may have begun doing that already. As your mother, she may be feeling a need to protect you by not expressing freely and openly what she feels and knows. As her daughter, you may be feeling the same way. This is what Elisabeth Kubler-Ross first described in her book On Death and Dying as the "conspiracy of silence." Nobody says what needs to be said and everyone ends up suffering alone. I encourage you not to assume what your mother is thinking and feeling. The only way to know for sure is to ask! When you're with her, you might ask her what she makes of her illness or what she thinks is going to happen to her – then take your cue from her. If she's ready and willing to talk about it and she knows that you are ready and willing to listen, she will let you know what's on her mind, and she’ll want to know what’s on your mind as well. The greatest gift you can give to your mother right now is just to be there with her – to be open to whatever she needs to say to you, and to be open with whatever you may need to say to her. I’d like to recommend to you two wonderful books that I think you might find helpful at this sad and difficult time. If you just click on their titles, you can read Amazon’s description and reviews of each. The first is The Four Things that Matter Most, by Ira Byock, M.D. He is an international leader in hospice and palliative care, and in this book he discusses how four simple phrases can guide us effectively through whatever interpersonal difficulties may stand between us and another person (and most especially when that other person is dying) to help us finish whatever unfinished business may be getting in the way. The four simple phrases are “Please forgive me,” “I forgive you,” “Thank you,” and “I love you.” The second book is Final Gifts: Understanding the Special Awareness, Needs and Communications of the Dying, by Maggie Callanan and Patricia Kelley. The “final gifts” of the title are the comfort and enlightenment offered by the dying to those attending them, and in return, the peace and reassurance offered to the dying by those who hear their needs. Most of us find it very difficult to think about the death of our loved one. We act as if merely thinking or talking about a person’s dying will somehow make it happen – or we act as if not thinking or talking about our loved one’s illness will somehow make it go away. Yet the reality is that none of us has the power to cause the death of another being merely by thinking or talking about it – and illnesses aren't prevented or cured simply by choosing not to think about them. Facing the loss of a loved one is just as difficult whether it happens suddenly or over an extended period of time. But having time to prepare for what lies ahead can be one of the more positive aspects of anticipatory grieving. You can make the most of the time you have now by talking openly with your mother about what is happening to her, and by making your remaining time together as special as possible, as you make those treasured memories that will offer you comfort later. Make sure, too, Gracey, that you are taking care of yourself while caring for your mother (by getting enough nourishment, relaxation, rest and exercise). And know that as you face the difficult days ahead, you are not alone. I know that every person reading this is thinking of you as you embark upon this trip to see your mother, and we will be here when you return, so you can continue to use this forum to express and work through your feelings about all of this. Finally, I want to leave you with this wonderful piece: How Well Are You Doing with Your Grief? "If I were doing well with my grief, I would be over in the corner curled up in a fetal position crying, not standing here acting like no one has died." -- Doug Manning in The Gift of Significance: Walking People Through a Loss We are doing well with our grief when we are grieving. Somehow we have it backwards. We think people are doing well when they aren't crying. Grief is a process of walking through some painful periods toward learning to cope again. We do not walk this path without pain and tears. When we are in the most pain, we are making the most progress. When the pain is less, we are coasting and resting up for the next steps. People need to grieve. Grief is not an enemy to be avoided;it is a healing path to be walked. -- from HOPE Line Newsletter, August 2002 E-mail: hope@dreamscape.com Web site: www.hopeforbereaved.com Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

So anything that can relieve some of my now even bigger recent fears is most welcome!!! Oh Maylissa! While I deeply respect your quest for knowledge and understanding, I want to gently suggest that, if this man's take on this subject only adds to your fears, then don't continue reading his book. Only you can determine what brings you comfort, and if you find this particular person's work disturbing, recognize that you have a right to disagree with him, to reject his theories and to stop paying him any more of your attention. I am reminded of a "Q and A" column I read recently by Belleruth Naparstek (an expert on PTSD and Guided Imagery, whom I've mentioned in some of my other posts). This is what she has to say about "connecting with people who may be more advanced spiritually" than you think you may be: I would caution you against looking for one person to follow. To tell you the truth, I think the guru days are over. And for those of us who didn't quite "get" the demise of guru-dom right away, we were blessed with a lot of misbehaving swamis and frisky TV pastors--everyone from the rascally Rajneesh to the weepy Jimmy Swaggart--to drive this point home. Forking over your autonomy, will, and power of discrimination to a "visionary" may not be as valuable as learning from many teachers, each of whom has many ideas and answers, some of which are compatible with you and some not. Slowly you get to shape a paradigm that is yours, based on many people and their ideas. It's also good to hash out these ideas and chew them over with fellow seekers in those learning circles. In following this advice, I suspect that you would have to give up your dependency--the idea that somewhere there is an idealized figure who will meet all your needs, tell you the truth, show you the way, and do the sorting for you. It doesn't work that way. Ultimately, gurus become unsatisfactory because no one belongs on a pedestal. Sooner or later, we figure that out and feel disappointed. And your very wish for such a teacher could leave you open for the kind of guru-abuse that was going on all over the place in the ’80s. It makes you easy to exploit. So I wish you luck in your journey, but I hope you don't stay too long with any one teacher. Allow yourself to outgrow them. And try to eschew the kissing of hems! [You can read the entire column at The Passing of an Era ]

Hi Lauren, I, too, am pleased to know that you'll be seeing your doctor next week, but I also want to point you to some additional resources that you may find helpful. Over the last twenty years, researchers and clinicians have developed a number of useful tools for coping with anxiety. Such tools are highly effective, practical, efficient, fast-acting and accessible, and work well by themselves and in conjunction with other forms of therapy. These new therapies include Guided Imagery, Eye Movement Desentization and Reprocessing (EMDR), Thought Field Therapy (TFT), Emotional Freedom Technique(EFT), Tapas Acupressure Technique (TAP), Prolonged Exposure Therapy (PET), Trauma Incident Reduction (TIR), Imagery Rehearsal Therapy (IRT), Visual Kisesthetic Dissociation (VKD), and Somatic Experiencing (SE), among others. All those choices may seem overwhelming, but I encourage you to read more about them, most especially about the potent tool of guided imagery. A good place to start is on the Alternative Healing page of my Grief Healing Web site, where you will find links to many helpful resources. See these especially: Articles by Belleruth Naparstek, Expert in PTSD and Guided Imagery Emotional Freedom Techniques (EFT) Guided Imagery and Visualization: How and Why It Works Healing Affirmations: Article by Belleruth Naparstek Suggestions for Severe Anxiety: Article by Belleruth Naparstek Guided Imagery for Anxiety: Article by Belleruth Naparstek Health Journeys: Resources for Mind, Body and Spirit

This is what I've been struggling so hard with for 6 long years Maylissa, dear, You might be interested in a book I've read recently entitled Signals, by Joel Rothschild (click on the title to read Amazon's description and reviews) -- This is taken from the book's jacket: Signals is the extraordinary true story of two friends, both living with AIDS, who made a pact: whoever died first would try to contact the other. Joel Rothschild, the more skeptical of the two, was the one left behind. His book chronicles a series of miraculous experiences and encounters that tell an amazing story and offer wonderful proof of an afterlife. Signals is the story of a skeptic who learns that there is more in heaven and earth than the human mind can comprehend. It's a story of an awakening, a transformation -- a story that uplifts us, and makes us smile in wonder. It is a story of love, hope, and healing that will take you on an adventure you will never forget. Ultimately, as Neale Donald Walsch writes, it 'closes the greatest gap of all -- the gulf in our understanding of life and death.'

My dear friend, I’m so sorry to learn of the death of your mother, and I can certainly appreciate your concerns, given your family history. I also appreciate your wanting to do what’s best for your youngest daughter as you try to explain what’s happening. As I’m sure you already know, no matter how young she is, a child can sense when things in the family routine are different, even if she cannot figure out why. When someone in the family dies, the first few hours are usually filled with turmoil and disruption. Relatives, friends and neighbors may be ringing the doorbell and calling on the phone, for example. At the very least, your daughter will probably notice a different level of excitement, sadness or anxiety around her and she’ll be aware of your paying less attention to her. Since your daughter has had no personal contact with her grandmother for the last eight months, she has already experienced and endured physical separation from her. Since you don’t say otherwise, I assume that your daughter has adjusted fairly well to that separation. You know your daughter better than anyone else, so you are in the best position to evaluate how she is reacting and responding to what is happening around her now, and how she will react to the news of her grandmother’s death. If your daughter is like most other three-year-olds, she won’t understand the concept of death – a child’s concept of death varies with the cognitive and emotional level of development of the individual child – but she can still feel your sadness and guilt, and she may respond by crying, clinging, withdrawing or regressing. She will find reassurance through hugs, cuddling, having special time with you, and sticking to her normal routines. As her mother, you already know how to talk to this child at her level of understanding. Talking about the death of her grandmother is no different from talking about any other sensitive topic – no special skills are required. What is essential are honesty and a willingness to listen. Being honest with your daughter teaches her to trust, and most especially to trust you, her mother. Listening to your daughter conveys respect for her thoughts, feelings and viewpoints. Keep in mind that your daughter is an expert at reading your mood (including your body language, facial expressions, and tone of voice). She knows intuitively that something is wrong, even if she’s not sure what it is. Children can pick up which subjects are “taboo” in a family – when parents act uncomfortable or reluctant to discuss a topic, or when they evade or change the subject. As your daughter observes your behavior and reactions surrounding your mother’s death, she will draw her own conclusions. I want to encourage you not to lie to your daughter about this death, to act evasive or offer unrealistic explanations. Lying to a child leaves her with a powerful conclusion: If my mother lied to me about the death of my grandmother, what else has she lied to me about? Your daughter needs to be told what has happened to her grandmother, and as soon as possible, so that she will learn about it from you first. How should you explain this death to your daughter? The following is taken from my booklet, Explaining the Funeral / Memorial Service to Your Children: Death can be explained to children the same way we explain other important milestones: Offer the facts in a simple, honest, straightforward, non-threatening, caring way. •Be honest, and keep it simple. Children know when adults are shading the truth. •First find out what the children already know or think they know about death. •Validate feelings and encourage children to share their thoughts, fears and observations about what is happening. •Explain that in the circle of life all living things will die someday, and that death causes changes in a living thing. •Avoid euphemisms such as, “passed away,” “sleeping,” and “lost.” •Explain what dead means: “Grandma died. Her heart stopped beating and she doesn’t breathe in and out anymore. She doesn’t need to eat or go to the bathroom. She cannot see, hear or move, and she cannot feel pain. Being dead is not the same as sleeping. All your body parts work when you are sleeping. When a person dies, her body has stopped working. The part of Grandma that was alive is gone. All that’s left is her body – like an egg shell without the egg.” •Explain how we might feel when someone dies: sad, mad, or confused – and we may cry sometimes. Don’t hide your own feelings. Feeling, showing and verbalizing one’s own pain gives children an example to follow, while holding back implies that feelings are to be suppressed. Let your children know that grief is a family affair. If your child is willing, let him/her help whenever possible with activities such as: •Picking out the casket. •Placing a note, drawing, special object or memento in the casket. •Selecting clothing, jewelry for the deceased to wear. •Selecting songs, music, readings. When deciding whether your daughter should attend her grandmother’s funeral, age is not the most important consideration. She is part of the family, and children who are old enough to love are old enough to grieve. No child is too young to attend a funeral, provided that the child is prepared for what will happen and what he or she will see at the funeral home, and is lovingly guided through the process. Shutting children out makes them feel alone, and conveys the idea that death and grief are too horrible to be faced. Children need to learn that special, loved people do die – but also that there will always be somebody there to take care of them. I hope this information is helpful to you, my friend, and please know that we are thinking of you. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T PS You can read the entire content of my booklet by clicking on this link: Explaining the Funeral / Memorial Service to Your Children

i want so much to tell her one more time that I love her ...as i sit in the dark i look and listen for her. I'm scared also, I'm afraid she will be angry with me for not doing more, for not noticing the cancer growing in her brain, for not realizing she was sick, for putting off our wedding another year.. i;m so afraid that i let her down My dear friend, I'm so very sorry for your loss, and I can feel the anguish in your words as you struggle with guilt over what you think you should have, could have, would have done differently, if only you had known then what you know now. But the sad truth is that you did not know, and even if you did, there is no guarantee that your knowing would have made any difference. Your fear that your beloved may be angry with you may serve to explain why you haven't had the experience of seeing her in an apparition or a dream -- but keep in mind that not everyone has such mystical experiences, and if you don't, it doesn't mean there's something wrong with you. If you feel a need to do so, consider what you could do to make amends to your beloved. Find a way to genuinely apologize to her, and ask for her forgiveness. For example, you could write her a letter, or have a visit with her spirit. Say aloud or in your mind whatever you didn’t get to say while she was still living. Be as honest as you can be. Then have your loved one write a letter to you. What would this person say to you about the guilt and sadness you’ve been carrying around? Ask what it would take for you to forgive yourself, and see if you can begin doing it. Try saying out loud to yourself, “I forgive you,” and say it several times a day. Remember, too, that no one else can absolve your feelings of guilt — only you can do so, through the process of intentionally forgiving yourself. In any event, you're not the first to be wondering about such post-death apparitions and dreams. If you read the posts in this particular thread, you'll find an interesting discussion of what are called mystical or extraordinary experiences of the bereaved: Lost My Mom a Year Ago / feel Her Here You might also be interested in exploring this site: Extraordinary Grief Experiences Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Hi Julie, There is precious little I can add to Maylissa's wise and caring response -- but I do want to let you know about two additonal articles that you may find helpful. (They are listed on the Death of a Parent page of my Grief Healing Web site, where you may find other relevant and useful references, too): Helping A Grieving Parent (Article by Helen Fitzgerald) Helping Yourself Heal When A Parent Dies (Article by Alan Wolfelt) I also want to add my voice to Maylissa's in welcoming you to this site. Not only are you "allowed" to post here, but we strongly encourage you to do so. We are all fellow travelers on this grief journey, no matter where we happen to be in the process. Many of us have been on this road for a very long time; others have just begun -- and some, like you, are wise enough to be looking ahead and planning for the trip. For that, you have our admiration and respect. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T