Letting Go

[kath]

The longer I work through my grief, the more I think that the whole thing is a process of letting go. It sounds much easier than it is because everything inside me has fought to hang on...to the memories, the gifts, the anniversaries, the pictures, the touch. I imagine families that have lost everything in a fire...having to start over without the "things" that described who they were and what they were about, even the stories of where they had been. The feeling we get from losing our loved one is really quite similar; complete abandonment, total nakedness and a heart destroyed by fire.

The weird thing is, after shuffling through the ashes, I am feeling a bit more complete. A little wiser, somewhat stronger and lots more observant. I've met people along the way that have had the capacity to see hearts. They were definitely special and a gift to meet. They were few and far between and our relationships, though short, touched me in ways I will never forget. Was it pain and loss that brought them to that point? I know of one that referred to that early on in our meeting. While we will never have the answers, will we be given the purpose? Will we someday be able to see hearts? I'm guessing, Marty, that you already do and that is what prompted your involvement here.

Just curious,

Kath

[MartyT]

Kath, my dear, I think what you're discovering at this point in your grief journey is not so much about letting go as it is reaching the point of finding meaning in your loss.

In Grief's Courageous Journey: A Workbook, authors Sandi Caplan and Gordon Lang observe,

What does "letting go" mean? This phrase is often misunderstood. Does it mean forgetting, letting go of our memories? Not at all. Does it mean letting go of a relationship with our deceased loved ones? No! Our relationship is changed, not ended. "Letting go" refers to the time in our healing journey when we are ready to gently open our tightly closed fists. In doing so we let go of our pain. We do not need it anymore.

In his beautiful book, Grieving Mindfully: A Compassionate and Spiritual Guide to Coping Better with Loss, Sameet Kuman writes,

[in Man's Search for Meaning, Viktor Frankl] attributed his survival, against all odds, to his finding reasons to endure his suffering. Despite the horror of his surroundings [in the Nazi death camp] – famine, slave labor, disease, unrelenting cruelty, and the constant threat of death – he was able to remind himself of his choice as a human being to find meaning in his life, irrespective of how unbearable that life may have felt . . . When [he] was liberated from the concentration camp at the end of the war, he attributed his survival to the realization that we can endure suffering, as long as we have a reason to endure it. Although he could not understand how such cruelty and injustice could exist in the world, he was able to understand what would get him through each day (pp. 71-72).

Even though it may be difficult to find meaning in the loss itself, you may still be able to find meaning in your grief – your response to the loss (p. 76).

Understanding [accepting, and finding meaning in] your loss means understanding what role the loss plays in your life, and eventually being able to integrate the loss into your identity. It means reconstructing your identity, your world, after it has been forever changed. Understanding your loss may sound as if it involves thinking a lot about what has happened in the past, but it is really more about deciding how to live your life in the future . . . Understanding this new world, and your place in it, is one of the nearly universal challenges of grief. As you feel your way up the spiral staircase of the first year and beyond, you gradually, and repeatedly, come to terms with what has happened to your life and to your relationship to this world. Like the spiral staircase, this is a nonlinear and lengthy process, and it too has many ups and downs. Being able to engage in this process mindfully can help you to find important life lessons along this journey. Coming to terms with loss mindfully – becoming an active participant in understanding, accepting, and finding meaning in your loss – gives you the power to change your life. Actively finding meaning in loss is the heart of grieving mindfully (pp. 72-73).

The ultimate memorial to any relationship you have lost is self-improvement, letting yourself grow, adapt, and change into a better person, integrating the loss into a better life (p. 151).

As for my own interest in this field, Kath, you can read all about that by clicking on the My Profile link on my Grief Healing Blog ~ but I think this passage says it best, because I know it can be said of all of us:

While the experience of grief work is difficult and slow and wearing, it also is enriching and fulfilling. The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss,and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness,and a deep, loving concern. [source: Roy and Jane Nichols, in "Funerals: A Time for Grief and Growth" in The Hope Line Newsletter, July 2001, Syracuse, NY, Hope for Bereaved, Inc.]

[kath]

Dear Marty,

Thank you for giving many more things to read and think about. I love the idea of unclenching my fist and letting go of pain. You also described in your last paragraph those people I have met that have helped and inspired me to move forward. You are so good at this!

[Maryo]

Kath,

I can feel your courage and strength in your post.The grieving process is quite a learning experience and I hope that I will come to understand what I need to do next?

Marty,

Your book suggestions are always appreciated.

Take care.

Mary Lou

[valley]

Dear Kath,

For me, I think even more than the idea of letting go, is the idea that my love is not coming back. That has been so hard for me. As irrational as that sounds, something in me kept waiting for tom to come home to me. after 16 months I am finally accepting the fact that this will not happen...in the now.

I spent Christmas with my mother, 92, who lives very much in the past. She has piles of paper all around her chair and looks over and over at old letters, photos, the past. I said, "mom if your house burned down today, you would still be here. You are more than your past". Maybe that sounds cruel, but at the moment I really thought that. I am sure mom did not really understand or care what I said about that subject, as the past is her new reality. But it did strike me.....in a big way. I carry my past, it is who I am, and who will help shape my future. Tom rides with me into this next adventure in my living life. I am not there yet, but it will be Tom who helps propel me forward. He was a man of action. I actually am who I am, because of all our years together and the fun and encouragement he offered me those many years.

P.S. Not exactly on your topic, but many years ago, I noticed that when I laid in bed my hands were fists. I made a conscious choice and then a new habit of letting my fingers reach out...because I got it into my head that my energy needed to be able to travel out of my hands at night when I went to sleep. that it would help me sleep more peacefully. To this day, if I feel my hands pull in, make a fist, I make myself let my fingers loose.

Love to you Kath. Lots of love.

Valley

[kath]

Valley,

I love what you said..."I actually am who I am, because of all our years together and the fun and encouragement he offered me those many years." I feel the same way. I attended a wedding ceremony and during Father's blessing, he said, that the couples new job was to make them a better husband and wife. That hit home because our marriage was more than "completing" each other. Being with Bob made me want to be better, for him. I get kind of sluggish not having him here and then catch myself doing things the way he would have wanted me to.

I also loved this...

"P.S. Not exactly on your topic, but many years ago, I noticed that when I laid in bed my hands were fists. I made a conscious choice and then a new habit of letting my fingers reach out...because I got it into my head that my energy needed to be able to travel out of my hands at night when I went to sleep. that it would help me sleep more peacefully. To this day, if I feel my hands pull in, make a fist, I make myself let my fingers loose."

What a great visual to release "useful" energy instead of keeping it locked up, creating inner turmoil. It reminded me of a dream catcher in a way...allowing the negative thoughts to flow through and trapping what is good and peaceful. And I think you are right about us (your mom) being more than our past. After so many years, they all blur into one. We hold onto our past because it becomes us, through influence and time and love. We are our battle scars, our regrets and even our failures. But, we are not done yet. Now comes the work Marty referred to!

Take care, Valley. And thank you!

Love, Kath

[marsha]

I read your post, Kath, but I wanted to dwell on it for a couple of days. In my scary and frightened moments, I see myself living in the past. But when I look back on the past year and a half, I realized that a good chunk of that time was indeed reliving (no, remembering) the past. Not only my marriage, but my whole damn life. Because we're not just plunked down into marriage - there's childhood, our single life, and yes, our marriages - but even in our marriages, lots of growing over the years. And there's growing pains with each step. I don't know why, but from the beginning, I just had this intuitive sense that I needed to address those aspects of my life, my personality, to understand them, in order to get to where I am - and that's the present. I can't leap from point a to point z, do you know what I mean? I've thrown off definitions of who I am - I've tried to come to the core of who Marsha is, not what society defines me as. Throwing off the restraints, and just realizing I'm just me, here - it's scary, enlightening, sorrowful, unbelievable - all at the same time. You'll notice "try" and "scary" mentioned a lot - but that's what it's all about, isn't it? Hugs, Marsha

[kayc]

Yes Kath, I do believe that what we have been through makes us more able to "see hearts" and know what is more important...we have developed more empathy. With me I don't know that it was "letting go" so much as "accepting loss and change". Either way you look at it, it is quite an adjustment.

BTW, let me hear from you now and then, I miss you!

[Sharon3]

For me it is learning to live differently, finding my way down a different path than I had ever imagined and making extreme effort to find a life I can live without the man I have been with since I was 16, which is over 40 years and not long enough. I am never letting go of him I am keeping him with me forever, but I am tryng to face the reality of life without him.

[kath]

"Because we're not just plunked down into marriage - there's childhood, our single life, and yes, our marriages - but even in our marriages, lots of growing over the years. And there's growing pains with each step. I don't know why, but from the beginning, I just had this intuitive sense that I needed to address those aspects of my life, my personality, to understand them, in order to get to where I am - and that's the present. I can't leap from point a to point z, do you know what I mean? I've thrown off definitions of who I am - I've tried to come to the core of who Marsha is, not what society defines me as. Throwing off the restraints, and just realizing I'm just me, here - it's scary, enlightening, sorrowful, unbelievable - all at the same time."

Marsha, I think you just described what I went through trying to discover who I am by myself. When you are someone's wife (gratefully) for half your life, it takes deep interspection to come to grips with this new reality. Trying to define our identity is all of those things..."scary, enlightening, sorrowful, unbelievable." "Widow" doesn't cut it. It's too final, too matronly. Maybe "Lady in Waiting" would be more appropriate. "Lady" suggests someone a bit mature, "Waiting" to see our loved ones again is a given.

I wish I could have all of you over to discuss this over a Chai Tea Latte (my new favorite beverage.)

[Kat2005]

I like "Lady in Waiting". It sounds much better than the "W" word. And Kath, Chai Tea Latte is the best.

Take care,

Kat