Dealing With Those "moments"

[feralfae]

So today has been a tough one. I do know that Tammy would not want me to give up. It's just that fighting side by side with Tammy seemed a lot more worthwhile than fighting for myself without her.

It is a lot harder fighting for self than when we were fighting for and with our Beloved. It has taken me a long time to come around to being able to put myself up at the top of my list of people to be cared for/things to do. I took care of Doug for the better part of three years, and it became a habit—a necessary habit—to think of Doug's needs, physical condition and comfort first. And after he left, I was too numb—and at the same time in too much pain—to think much about my own physical needs or emotional needs, either.

I know how hard it can be to find the inspiration or energy to do much. But it is necessary to have enough discipline to get up, brush up, wash up, have a healthy breakfast (during which I still tell myself that I am a loved and cherished person, even if I cannot see Doug right now) and I try to watch the birds, listen to lovely music, or maybe bring my laptop to our dining room table and listen to a TED talk. But first, because we always did, I pray with gratitude, and remember how blessed I am in so many ways. It makes breakfast taste a LOT better, and calms my spirit if I am jumpy.

I am glad to see you are using this place as a journal for your feelings. Here, we can reflect on what you say as well as reflect back to you our understanding and compassion. You have been through a great deal, and you are making you way as best you can.

Until you are able to cheer on yourself to take care of you and to keep going, we will cheer for you and remind you how much you are worth caring for and loving, nurturing and protecting, every day. Your beautiful heart and spirit deserve the most compassionate caring you can give to yourself right now. One of the best things anyone said to me after Doug left was that I now needed to take as good care of me as Doug would have done if he were here, and combine that with how well I took care of Doug. Sometimes, when I am tired or discouraged, I ask myself how Doug would treat me in this situation, and I usually get a clear answer. So you might try to remember to take as good care of yourself as Tammy would if she were here in her physical body.

Be gentle and compassionate with your grief and tears. You need this time to heal.

Blessings and Peace to your heart,

feralfae

[kayc]

I am having a hard day today as well, nothing like the two of you are going through, but my truck is having issues. It has a new battery and yet it's sluggish starting...or doesn't want to start at all. I have no one to turn to and if George was here he would take care of it. It always seems to show up his absence when something happens that I don't know how to deal with. Sometimes I just get so tired of dealing with all of the struggle by myself, and yet I have Arlie and the cats to take care of so I have no choice but to keep plugging along. They're predicting snow the next few days and I need to be at the church the next three days and now no truck to make it in. I just want this week over with and I feel like it's wrong to wish time away, like I'm not appreciating God's gift to me or something.

I'm sorry both of you are having hard days as well. It sounds like you'd like an answer, Mitch, and I don't know any way for you to have one outside of an autopsy and the time passed for that. Ultimately, I'm not sure it'd make any real difference even if you knew why it happened, how could you change anything? No one saw/knew what was going on, even those who should have, the medical personnel. We trust our lives to their care! What else can we do? We can't all be doctors.

fae, you've having such a hard time today yourself and yet here you are, for others. (((hugs)))

[mittam99]

I was invited to a family dinner last night. It was extremely hard for me to do, but I went. I sat there trying to listen to other people but all the while I was thinking "Tammy should be sitting next to me". I know that's normal, but that doesn't mean it's easy. I saw a couple of people I hadn't seen for a while and the "sorry for your loss" comments were difficult to hear. I know the people were sincere, it's just hard to respond to that. I'm dreading going back to work and literally dealing with a hundred people daily asking me the same questions about losing Tammy (I'm in a retail customer service business).

I'm concerned I won't be able to concentrate on my work like I need to. \ find myself needing to be extra careful with my keys and wallet and things because I seem absent minded these days. I find myself being clumsier and shaky and I've knocked over a few cups of water and plates of food. Living a real life and doing real life things without Tammy is going to be very, very hard and very painful for the foreseeable future.

I have a couple of books my counselor recommended coming in the mail today. I'll read them looking for some insight. I see my counselor again this Tuesday, and again, I'm hoping that helps. I also hope it's ok that I'm using this topic as a place to post about my journey. The members here have been very kind.

I think I'm still in disbelief that Tammy is gone. It's only been four weeks yet sometimes these four weeks seem longer than that. I'm so scared that as time go by I'll forget her voice, her smell and some of those happy memories might fade.

I cry when I think about the overwhelming medical ordeals she had to go through. How undeserving she was of such trauma. How I think the medical pros let her down. I truly don't believe most doctors are knowledgeable/skilled enough to properly treat a patient with a complicated and severe case of Lupus. I can't tell you how many times a hospital doctor told us "Tammy is the most complicated patient I've ever seen". In some ways I think Tammy looked at that as a badge of honor, she was proud of her "battle scars". Surviving another bout of sepsis or getting through another life threatening ordeal was just "another notch in her belt". Not that she wanted to go through all that but she was proud of herself for being a fighter and I was proud of her for kicking lupus's butt time and time again.

She was my everything.

[kayc]

Well I'm proud of YOU for going to the dinner last night! I know it couldn't have been easy but you put yourself out there and that took guts when you're not feeling up to the questions, comments. You're smart to guard yourself against losing keys, etc., being aware that you aren't yourself is probably smart.

You are probably right about the doctors not being knowledgeable about treating a patient with Tammy's complicated medical history. I'm not sure they always read their history as thoroughly as they should. Two doctors prescribed medicine for my sister that could have killed her! It shows me over and over how vigilant we have to be about our own health.

[mittam99]

It was a month ago today on March 6th that Tammy tragically passed away.

Today was pretty much like many days I've had. Lonely, quiet, sad. I think I'm still in disbelief.

I had a couple really emotional outbursts of tears that happened each time I read a particular sentence in one of the books on grief I'm reading. The sentence read "the first step toward positive change is to recognize that the life of the person your cared about is over and that yours is not." It was the "the life of the person you cared about is over" part that got to me... deeply. Maybe I still am holding out some sort of hope that she will come back and that this was all just some sort of nightmare I'm having. Maybe that's why I still haven't emptied out the glass of lemon water on her nightstand she drank from. I guess I still haven't fully accepted what happened?

The book goes on to basically say that by "holding on to the past" we tend to make it more difficult to have a forward looking present. I'm only a month into this grief journey... isn't it normal to still be putting parts of our lives on hold until we feel ready for it?

Your thoughts would be welcome.

[kayc]

Mitch,

Oh yes, what you are feeling/experiencing is normal! I can imagine those words did hit you, like the lady at the social security office that callously told me a week after George died that our marriage ended in death. Why she felt compelled to tell me that I'll never know, but it's a miracle I didn't have an accident as it was hard to see through the tears that poured down my cheeks on the way back.

Even though it hurts, things like this do get our grief out on the table and they say tears are healing, so I guess it's all part of the inevitable process. We can't protect ourselves from all the things that hurt, that's for sure, but it's hard to let it sink in too. You'll empty out the glass of lemon water when you're ready (or when it stinks) and not a moment sooner.

It sounds like that book was written for someone further in their grief journey...saying such things to someone a month out seems insensitive to me.

Of course you are in self preservation mode, you have to protect yourself from what you're not ready for, I think we all do that!

[MartyT]

Dear Cassandra, I wonder if you'd be willing to start your own thread in this forum, so as to separate from Mitch's your own story, your posts and the responses you will receive? To do that, just click on the title of this forum, Loss of a Spouse, Partner or Significant Other, then at the top right you'll see a black button labeled Start New Topic. Click on that and you can begin your own thread with a title of your own choosing. Once that is done, I can move your two posts over there for you.

[mittam99]

I had my second session with my counselor and she seems to think it might be good for me to go back to work Monday. I have sort of been isolating myself from people and while I know it will be difficult, she might be right. I do need the money, obviously, and while I'm dreading the "what happened" questions and all the cliches I'm going to hear, in the long run, it may be the time to go back. Still though, I'm nervous.

Ironically, I ran into a co-worker while buying groceries today. He had heard about Tammy and gave me his condolences. We talked for about 15 minutes and as it turned out, he lost his 92 year old mom in February. He was perfectly nice about everything but I still felt awkward in that situation. Multiply that by 100's and that's what work will be like in the first weeks back, I'm sure.

Another thing I'm dealing with is the whole concept of "your wife is no longer in pain or suffering" that I often hear. I know there certainly is truth there... Tammy went through more medical trauma than anyone I know of. And she became more and more debilitated over the years, But... and this is what I'm trying to come to grips with... she wanted to live; she had an amazing positive outlook. And so did I. And I needed her in my life. So yes, she isn't feeling that constant pain or dreading what the next medical problem will be... but she's also not sharing a laugh or a good meal with me or a hug or a kiss or...

Tammy was my whole life, my whole world. It's hard to go from a life filled with love to a life filled with loving memories.

It's difficult to go from being a loving husband and a loving caregiver to concentrating on myself. At least I'm thinking of a future, though. That's good, right? I'm on a grief forum learning from others and mourning Tammy, I'm reading books on the subject, I'm seeing a counselor. Hopefully, in time, I will be able to look at the "big picture". For now, I'm just trying to put one foot in front of the other.

[MartyT]

Yes, Mitch, what you're doing is good ~ very good ~ and I hope for now you will let it be enough. Don't think about where you're going to be. Concentrate on where you are right now. One thing we've all learned about grief is that it changes. And you will change right along with it. So for now, just be right where you are, and know that there is no right or wrong way to "do" this grief of yours. There is only your way, and you're learning your way as you go along. The important thing is that you are moving forward ~ no matter how slowly that may seem to you. You're still moving.

As for the concept that your Tammy is no longer suffering, beware of any statement that begins with the phrase "At least . . ." And I hope you'll find it in your heart to forgive those who really don't know what to say. Most people mean well ~ It's just that we live in a death-denying culture, and just as you've not yet learned how to just "be" with your grief, others have not yet learned how to just "be" with you in your grief, either. Returning to work and facing all the comments will be hard, for sure ~ but think of it this way: Nothing you'll ever have to do from now on will ever be as hard as what you've endured already. You are far stronger than you may think you are. ♥

[kayc]

Actually, the knowing George is free from pain/suffering and the struggles of this world is the one consolation I have in all this so it never bothered me when anyone said it to me because I agreed. Of course I wish he were here, and I would gladly take care of him through anything if only I were allotted that chance.

Mitch, you are doing all of the right things...this is a hard road to traverse at best, but you're navigating it.

[JHCP]

Marty, I posted my own page. Please move my posts to my page. Thanks for your help. Sorry if I used this site incorrectly. Please Maryanne and everyone else forgive me for my ignorance about how to post. I pray you find healing! Nothing can help you feel any better like time! Take care of yourselves because that's what your loved ones would have wanted

[MartyT]

No need to apologize, my dear. This site can be quite daunting until you learn some of its bells and whistles. The only way I could move your posts to your own thread was to cut and paste them, but you will find them there now.

[mittam99]

I'm finding if I do something that takes concentration, I can keep it together fairly well. But, there are so many "triggers" that just send me immediately into a burst of tears. A photo, something on TV, a song, thinking about all that Tammy went through, the future we didn't get to accomplish/share...

I just miss her so much, it just hurts.

[MartyT]

This is your brain's way of forcing you to "see" what your heart doesn't want to know, Mitch. Each time you're hit with one of these triggers, you are forced to face once again the reality of your loss. It's like getting hit by a tidal wave, over and over again. But each time it happens, you become just a bit more skilled at riding the wave . . .

[kayc]

Eventually they don't trigger you as much as you begin to realize she's gone and it doesn't slam you with reality anew. You may get hit with a memory that makes you remember but that's different than a trigger that forces you face down in reality again.

[mittam99]

Right now it seems like my biggest hurdles/issues are the guilt and regrets. I know neither are making this grief journey any easier, My outbursts of tears mostly seem to happen when I'm thinking about what happened to Tammy or how unfair it all was for her and how this wonderful, sweet woman, my everything, didn't deserve any of this. Add those other "triggers" I talked about in an earlier post and I seem to be taking one step forward, two steps back. I've had a rough couple of days.

A lot of my guilt and regrets I feel are based on me being Tammy's caregiver for a number of years. After all, I was sort of "in charge of" her health and well being. And in my mind her happiness. She wasn't totally incapacitated, btw. She took her pills on her own, checked her blood pressure (with the occasional reminder from me) bathed herself etc and while I sometimes had to help her to and from the bathroom, she mostly did that. I was the one to take her from place to place (doctors visits for example), help her as needed with whatever she needed, I cooked all her meals, did her wound care (she had many, many painful open MRSA wounds all over), and just generally was there for her at all times. I also loved to make Tammy laugh and she was a great audience for me, oh how I loved her smile and wonderful laugh. On more than one occasion she told me to stop because I was making her laugh too much (like when she was taking a drink of water)!

That 's what you do when you are 100% in love with someone, right? I've never understood people that tell me how amazing I was and that many husbands wouldn't have done what I did for Tammy. In my opinion, if a man wouldn't do that for his beloved wife, he isn't much of a man or husband. When Tammy was hospitalized or in rehab, I'd let work know I wasn't working. For the most part I tried to stay with Tammy 24/7. I always felt like I could be Tammy's advocate and being with her made me feel better. A friend of Tammy's recently told me Tammy said "I always knew when I opened my eyes, Mitch would be there". And that made me feel good and cry of course! This past February one of the hospital doctors told me he "admired" me for the way I stayed with Tammy night and day. Again, to me, it was my pleasure and it's what a husband should do. It's sad that most people think what I did was so "amazing".

So what exactly is my guilt? Again, this is all hindsight and in reality, I always did what I thought was best for Tammy.

What I feel guilty about...

For starters, the fact that Tammy passed away. That wasn't supposed to happen on "my watch". I was her knight in shining armor, her protector, so to speak. Obvious on Friday March 6th neither of us had an inkling that this would be her last day. Her symptoms were most just being extremely tired, which is the norm for someone who has severe lupus. When her symptoms became more unusual, I kept thinking "what should I do"? Should I call 911?". Then the thought came into my head "she just came home from rehab, how could this be"? "Don't jump to any conclusions" (I'm a worrywart by nature and tend to think the worst when everything is basically ok), and Tammy herself was just saying she can't get comfortable and was very tired. When I saw her sitting up on the edge of the bed and sort of falling back in slow motion... I went into panic mode. It just seemed so unusual. Was this just someone super tired or something worse? After screaming Tammy's name several times, and seeing her open her eyes, I felt a great relief. And again, she just said she was exhausted. At short time later she was having trouble breathing and I called 911 and she was gone.

I keep replaying all that in my mind and wondering, if only I called sooner would it have made a difference? I honestly don't know, of course. I thought a lot of the symptoms could have been due to the new narcotic pain pill she just started that morning. I did call my brother in law (a physician) late Friday afternoon with some of her symptoms (extreme tiredness and some confusion) and he thought it certainly could be the new pill. All my life I wanted to find someone as perfect as Tammy for me and on this day, I just didn't know what to do, which way to go. Then again, why didn't that doctor at rehab take better care of Tammy and see that something was brewing inside? Tammy and I both were so optimistic, so happy to be home. So looking forward to our future.

I'm also feeling guilty because I think in the past couple years I was so concentrating on Tammy's wound care and making sure that everything she touched was germ free (she was extremely prone to infections) and worrying about her health/safety 24/7 (she had fallen many times) that I didn't see how emotionally fragile she was. Again, this is mostly based on hindsight. Some friends have told me Tammy told them she was deeply emotionally hurt by the way her own mother and her daughter had sort of abandoned her. She was distraught by her father's death in 2012 from brain cancer (he was her superhero; she always said I reminded her of her dad and that was a huge compliment). Unfortunately, while Tammy would talk to me a little about things like this, she didn't open up very much about it. I think with her Midwestern "stiff upper lip" upbringing, she felt like she'd be "complaining" if she did. Of course now with hindsight, I wish she would have cried on my shoulder more so I could wipe her tears and tell her how much I love her over and over. Of course, I told her I loved her many many times a day, hopefully she never got tired of hearing it!

Also, because she was prone to infections and because her MRSA wounds were so bad and located in "sensitive areas", we weren't being as physical as we once were. If I had a cold, I was worried she'd get sick when I kissed her. Sex was a challenge and I was always worried I was going to hurt her. And I feel guilty that I worried about getting the MRSA myself.

I also feel guilty for having moments when I felt overwhelmed being the caregiver.

Regrets? I'm sure we've all had those. We're all human. Why did I say something mean in an argument two years ago, for example.

I loved (and still love) Tammy with all my heart, with every fiber of my being. I hope she knows that and that I always lived life with her with one thing in mind... to try to make her happy and healthy. I hope she can forgive me for all the things I did wrong.

[kayc]

Mitch, a lot of what you are feeling is because you are a man. You see it as your role to "fix" the situation, and the fact is, it was not in your capacity to fix. That is no fault of your own, it is just the way the cards fell. The way her mom and daughter were are also not your fault or within your power to fix. And your getting MRSA would have made it harder for you to be there for Tammy. If you don't first take care of yourself, you'll be no good to anyone else, a lesson us caregivers need to learn. I learned that years ago.

I wish I hadn't been so hard on George, God I think he was a saint! But the truth is, we're all human, we all have faults, we aren't perfect, and just because they died didn't change anything in our relationship or love. The fact is, we were damned good spouses and they well knew it, no matter what our imperfections were/are. None of us are perfect, not even them! And had we been the ones who died, THEY would be the ones on line here feeling guilty about something trivial that we don't even remember!

[Froggie4635]

I will always run through my mind that morning Mark died. He was pronounced dead almost exactly an hour from when I called 911. We are fortunate that we were close both to the fire station and the hospital. Time lost all meaning when I began chest compressions on Mark. It was not easy to keep calm...the 911 operator helped and so did the quickness of the ambulance that helped me keep a pulse for Mark. I guess the fact that he still had a pulse is what keeps me from feeling guilt. We had been at dinner the night before, and Mark was so alive that his death was a shock. I know there was nothing more I could have done to change the outcome.

Please do not put yourself through the awful guilt. Tammy would not want that for you. She would understand your grief and sadness; when someone tells me not to be sad, that Mark would want me happy, I simply smile. Mark would understand my grief. And I am thankful that it is ME grieving and not him. I miss him so much it hurts, even after 4 months. But today I got down on my knees and thanked God for him bringing Mark to me to love. I asked God to please stand with me while I hurt and to know I am thankful for everything I have and everyone who helps me heal. Be kind to yourself and wrap yourself in the love you both created.

[mittam99]

It's been 5 weeks today and I honestly don't know how I can survive without my Tammy. This isn't living. Unless you enjoy living in hell. That's what it feels like. I take pleasure in nothing I do. Most people in my life have no interest in me, it's not their problem. I'm going back to work next week even though I'm not close to ready, I guess bills have to be paid. I'm just doing the bare minimum... eating and sleeping and not much more. I can't concentrate on anything. All I do is burst out into tears and think about how cold and empty and useless my life is now.

Tammy was all I had. She made me feel special, she gave me love no one ever else did. She was the only reason this world was tolerable. Seeing all the overwhelming medical horrors she went through in her life and seeing her come home with optimism after the Feb/March hospital/rehab ordeal only to die less than two days later is unfathomable. The medical staff at the rehab place clearly failed to properly take care of her underlying medical issues while she was in their care. All they were concerned about was doing physical therapy and having her leave the second insurance ran out. There is so much incompetence in the medical profession it is sickening.

I've asked some people "what do I really have in my life?" and for the most part no one can really come up with anything. A job? A car? A house? What good is any of that if you have no love in your life and no one that cares?

Tammy's daughter Katie (who I raised as my own with Tammy from age 3-18) won't even let me talk about her mom. When I do, she shuts me down. And this is via text because she will not even talk to me on the phone.

Suicide seems like an easy way out but that's not something I could do. So here I am, alone, unloved, devastated, in misery and seeing no happiness in my future. Grief just seems like some sort of slow, long lasting torture.

[KATPILOT]

Often when I read words spoken by the newly grieving, I relate so strongly. Kay I think you have a point when you speak of the feelings men can have. Perhaps we think we can control things in crises situations. I am reminded of something an older airline pilot told me and that was.......... even if the aircraft breaks up in flight, just grab the biggest piece and fly it in. Perhaps Mitch, we need to cut ourselves a little slack. We did the best we could but sometimes we lose. I've started my fifth year now and I hear your words as if they were my own. You do adapt with grief. You will still have times when you will break down even if they come less frequently as the years pass. We will still have triggers. They may never completely disappear. A friend described them to me as landmines and it got me to thinking. We laid those mines every day, month, and year we were in love to be struck by the surviving spouse. The thing is you see, we wouldn't have such pain when we hit them without having loved so deeply. Bittersweet it may be but I for one have come to embrace the pain as part of my joy for having Kathy in my life and in my heart. Time can be a friend as well as an enemy. We "do" get better at riding those waves.

Stephen

[Queeniemary]

Well spoken Steven. Yes we do get better riding those waves.

QMary

[kayc]

Mitch,

I'm so sorry, I know the feelings, all too well. I know that suicide doesn't solve anything, really, all it does is remove the possibility of ever feeling any better. Right now you can't even SEE that possibility, but having lived through this, I know it's there. It will not ever be the same, I won't sugar coat it, you wouldn't believe me if I did. You don't see happiness in a house or a car or anything else you have because those things don't bring happiness. Much of happiness is in sharing with someone and you feel that's removed now so there's nothing left. It will be up to you to build a new life for yourself, one that includes some measure of joy. This is the part many of us have struggled with, whether a year out or ten, it doesn't matter, we're still faced with the same challenge. I enjoy going to the senior site and setting up/dismantling for Bingo, I enjoy these old people. Many of them have lost their spouses and are alone and it helps them so much to just get out with others a couple of times a week and share a meal and play Bingo. That may not seem like much, but it brings me joy to be with them and help them. I can't say as I enjoy the Treasury job I recently took at the church, yet, maybe it'll come on down the road, but I do it and hope it gives me some sense of purpose. I feel a sense of purpose coming here...I want so much to give back in the same way I received, because quite honestly, this place was my saving grace when I lost my George. It gave me a safe place to come to and express my feelings without judgment. There were those of us walking this walk together, and it helped. It was the one place no one would say to you "You just need to move on" or "Get over it". I find much joy in my animals, esp. my dog, Arlie. I know he has a limited number of years left and I don't even want to think about facing his imminent death, but I'll have to cross that bridge when I come to it, the same way I had to deal with George's. I can't see life without Arlie, but I know it'll be up to me to make one, somehow, when that time comes. I will grieve like the dickens, but I've learned that the responsibility of building my life belongs with me, not anyone or anything else.

What are the qualities you most loved about Tammy? Try to aspire to live those qualities, it is a way of having her life continue, through you. Some people think they need to carry out what their spouse started, that's not what I mean, I mean the qualities they had, those things about them that we admired, we can try to incorporate those qualities into our lives. My George had such a zest for life! He was a people person, extremely caring, always there for people. I am given to more solitude and it's easy for me to isolate or stay "task oriented", I guess that's one reason we were such a good balance together, but I can try to incorporate his caring more into my life. In learning from him, I help him to continue, through me.

You say Tammy never gave up...YOU never give up! We're here to walk it with you, Mitch. You're going to have these feelings for quite some time, but I admire your ability to continue on in the face of adversity, in spite of how you're "feeling", you ARE going back to work, and you WILL persevere through this...there really is no other way but straight through it. But it won't always feel as hopeless and bleak as it does right now, this very moment. Write a letter to Tammy, pour your feelings out to her, tell her how much you miss her, and yes, do cry, it's okay. I know you probably get tired of crying, but it's better than bottling it up anyway, and you're not a person to do that.

Right now I bet you feel like you have a Tsunami, not mere "waves".

[kayc]

Beautifully put, Stephen.

[MartyT]

Mitch, my dear, this afternoon I listened to an audio program that I think you may find helpful, and I hope you'll take 15 minutes to listen to it. In this Open to Hope interview, author Alexandra Kennedy describes a wonderful and successful strategy for encountering and dealing with grief so as not to feel overwhelmed by it. It's a method I've encouraged many times, whereby you intentionally create a sanctuary ~ that is, a specific place in your home and at a time of day without the likelihood of any outside disturbance ~ where in complete privacy you can turn toward your grief, feel what's going on in your body, feel the feelings that come up for you, bring to mind and think about your loved one, and just be with your grief.

Alexandra suggests doing this for just ten to twenty minutes every day. Put a time limit on it, at the end of which you know you will return to your everyday life. Doing this is a way of creating a container for your grief ~ a safe place to hold yourself while allowing yourself to "fall apart," knowing that when the time is up you'll put yourself back together again. It establishes a rhythm of going in and going out ~ a practice that teaches you how to "show up" for your grief every day without fear of becoming overwhelmed, as well as a way to step away from grief when you must attend to the activities of daily life ~ knowing that your grief will be there when you're ready to encounter it again the next day.

If you don't yet feel ready to try something like this, Mitch, that's okay too. Just know that it's an effective strategy that you can begin to use whenever you decide to do so.

Click on this link to listen to the audio: Create a Grieving Sanctuary: Alexandra Kennedy

[kayc]

Thank you, Marty, I remember reading that and wanted to call that up for people here, but didn't know where it was, it can be a very helpful tool. I've heard people say they're afraid if they cry they'll never stop, well this gives them a period of time each day to do just that. I know it might seem awkward at first to "schedule your grieving", but it makes sense, not that different than scheduling our meditation. Of course that doesn't mean we'll never get hit other times, or cry outside that time period, but we can learn to box it in, so to speak, into something more manageable.

This is especially helpful when people have to go to a job where they don't want to fall apart.