Last Call for Blog Tour – Grief and Loss Sites

Please contact me if you have a grief related book, site, blog, etc. I will include your information when I post the blog tour this week.

Sometimes You Need to Cry

Sometimes You Need to Cry

Elaine Williams ©2008

 

I recall a period in time, at about 18 months after my husband passed away, that I felt pretty good about myself. I had handled what life had thrown me and come out battered, but mostly okay on the other side. After caretaking my husband for almost a year, I was battling some minor health problems of my own, related mostly to stress, but most days I was certain my life was on track. Steady and focused, my three boys were also adjusting and it seemed we all had a grip on reality.

 

On this day, I was on my way to an appointment with my holistic doctor when the radio began playing a song I had never heard before. The singer’s words stirred something inside me. The song spoke of loving someone through the years, and even with that person gone, the threads of memory remained.

 

The words reverberated through me, and I experienced almost a kind of shock as their meaning sank in. Out of nowhere, I began to cry so hard I had to pull off the road. I had no control over the rush of anguished emotion. All my hard won calm fled, chopped off at the knees as I hugged the steering wheel of my car.

 

I cried as if a great well had opened inside and pulled my guts out. When I finally began to calm and the tears subsided, I had to wonder where this emotional outburst had come from. How could a song open a wound of such profound loss?

 

I arrived at my doctor’s office, and as usual with holistic doctors, they not only want to know about you physically, but they dig deeper into the emotional aspects of your life. I hesitated only briefly before telling him what had occurred on the way to his office. I felt embarrassed by my earlier semi-breakdown. I tried to explain that I’d been feeling good, and then to suddenly have this upheaval had thrown me for a loop.

                                    

He explained it was to be expected there would be days where emotion could still catch me by surprise. With the loss still relatively fresh in my life, how could I expect to be 100%? I admitted to him that I’d been feeling excruciatingly lonely, but I thought I was handling it. Some days my idea of “handling” it meant ignoring or burying my feelings. Always a very private person, I hadn’t shared much of my thoughts with anyone. When friends asked how I was doing, I would usually say I was okay. Inside, I kept thinking, who wants to hear that I just want to get through another day?

 

I felt much better after speaking with him. Not only was he a sympathetic ear, it felt good to open up and share my worries about being alone, my concern for the kids’ welfare and fears that I wasn’t handling my finances to my best advantage.

 

We talked extensively about the triggers that stirred my own private misery. Something as straightforward as a song, or as complex as past memories, seemed to have the power to entrench me in great emotion. He made me realize there would be times I merely needed to cry as part of grief’s healing process. There was nothing complicated about it. Each time we are brave enough to reach down and allow our true emotions out, it brings a little more healing into our lives. As time passes, and we remain true to ourselves, a new sense of empowerment emerges.

Infant and Bereavement Photography

Recently I came across the website of photographer Cherly Mauldin. Her photography services cover a wide range of subjects, but what I found very interesting were the services she offers regarding infant bereavement and remembrance photography. Cheryl belongs to a nationwide network of affiliated photographers who offer this service to families, called “Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep” at http://nowilaymedowntosleep.org/>.
You can see all the services available as well as contact information for families to get in touch with infant bereavement photographers in their area.

Cheryl’s website blog with information and pictures is here. http://www.mauldinphotography.blogspot.com/>

Grief, One More Journey in Life

In my habit of reading blogs of other’s who have suffered the loss of a loved one, I am reminded again and again of those early, deep and entrenching emotions. In today’s society where many want to just “get through it” or get it over with quickly, no matter what IT is, grief is just a process that takes its own time. It has its own agenda, based on you, the individual. No amount of prodding, sweet talking or ranting will make it move any faster through your life. The good news is, it does move on and we become a different person, and we can control the process, to some degree. We can seek help, support, and remain open to life. Through my four years of “widow” experience, I can attest to the fact that life does take on a new normal, as long as we don’t shut down and close in upon ourselves.

I am sorry for the loss anyone suffers in life. It’s not fair, we rant and cry, and I recall like it was yesterday the lost, desperate feelings. For a time I buried myself in my grief, my loss, and in the end I found that talking about it to a professional really helped me sort through my feelings, fears and emotions. I wasn’t going crazy, even though at times it hurt so bad I didn’t know which way to turn. I also started a journal, and if I felt desperately unhappy, I would write in my journal. So cry, be angry or just stare out the window if that’s what you need to do today, but don’t be stuck in it day after day. I learned in the beginning to get through each day as best I could, with no expectations of anything. It’s just the way grief is. Take your time to naviagate this new life, and you may find, as I have, that keeping your arms and heart wide open to life, will bring you unexpected joys and experiences. Trust me, there is life after loss, it just takes a bit of traveling to get there.

Children in Grief

Elaine Williams copyright 2008

 

I have three boys who were 11, 18 and 19 when their father died from cancer. They all reacted differently to this loss, and many times I felt at a loss myself in trying to determine the best way to help them through their grief.

 

My oldest son moved away from home a year and a half after my husband’s passing. It was a move for the best, a need for him to establish his independence, but at the time it was very difficult for me. My son had relationship problems, moved into a dumpy apartment and associated with people I didn’t know. He fell into a drinking and partying lifestyle.

 

My middle son retreated emotionally, becoming distant. Even though he still lived at home, I had to wonder many times what was going on in his mind and his heart. I knew he was as wounded as I felt at the passing of his father, but he was unwilling to share even the most minute details of what he might be feeling.

 

My youngest son clung to me as if he were afraid to let me out of his sight. He asked me once what would happen to him if I died, as his father had died.

 

I calmly reassured my youngest that I expected to live a long time, I still had a lot to accomplish. But I also reassured him that his grandparents or aunt would take care of him if something did happen to me.

 

Being newly widowed, at times the struggle threatened to engulf me. Day-to-day living felt hard and there was no getting away from it or retreating. Frightening, hard, taxing, tiring, exhausting. In the beginning. The first two and a half years I now look back and realize yes, I came through it, as did my children, and I would never want to live through it again, but we did okay. We lived it each day doing the best we could.

 

We made some bad choices, but we learned and came away with something valuable. Speaking for myself, I felt ripped in two many days. When I made dating mistakes, it hurt incredibly, and yet the biggest wounds, after my husband’s death, were the wounds of my children. I felt like I could handle anything at any time that happened to me, but when it involved my children, all bets were off. I wanted to take away their hurts, soothe them over, make everything okay again. But that’s not how real life is, and indeed, it’s not how it should be.

 

My  kids grew through their own experiences, and that’s how they learned that life does go on. Mom supports them and helps to a degree, but they have to learn to deal with their own things that come to them in life. We held together as a family and I like to think my husband is still watching over us, keeping us safe in his way, and admiring how we’ve all come through this trial of grief and loss. No one ever said it would be easy, but then again, no one every really brought this subject up before we had to experience it first hand. That’s just he way life is, sometimes it smacks you in the back of the head and you don’t see it coming, other times you see it but hope it’s going to miss you. If we’re lucky, we rise to the occasion in the best way we know how, without bitterness or undue pain.

 

Life wounds each of us in various ways, it’s how we come out of the wounding that tells the truest sense of who we are, or can be.

A Recent Widower

I met a man online today through one of the blogs, and he’s newly widowed. His wife passed away about two weeks ago. He’s full of vim and vigor and determined to move on, as he put it, and I interpret that to mean move through his grief experience quickly and pick up the threads of his previous life.

I remember being that and there and now, four years later, I offered him what I hope will be taken as words of help. Please take it slow and don’t try to take on the world, let it come to you for awhile until you adjust to this new life that is now yours.

I know from my own experience the twisted, convoluted, surprising, painful and yes sometimes exhiliarating ride ahead. I also know we can support and help others along this grief jouroney as best we can, but in the end, it’s each individual’s show. Their decisions. Their life.

Keeping Grief at Bay

 Elaine Williams copyright 2008

 After my husband’s death, I enclosed myself in an emotional shell. A hard cased, untouchable cocoon of nothingness. I wanted to be numb, I wanted to be left alone. Many days my self-imposed prison made me want to be loved by someone. Some days I lived and breathed by rote. God kept me breathing when maybe I took that for granted. It sank in one morning when I woke and asked myself what do I do with the rest of my life. I decided I probably had another forty years to go. Where do I go from here?

I felt an overwhelming disinterest in life and living. I had three boys, so I put one foot in front of the other and took care of the things that needed doing. My kids were my first priority. I was and am so blessed to have them. And yet, I felt bad that they lost their father. My youngest was ten, and I just wanted to fold up some days and hide in a corner for sadness. But I didn’t. I decided, subconsciously, my children needed me more to be straight and unbroken then I needed to crumple.

I avoided people sometimes because I didn’t want to talk about and therefore confront my grief. I didn’t know who I was anymore, now that I was alone. And I felt very alone and isolated, even from family. Isolating myself, I just wanted to be left alone. Sometimes others didn’t know what to say. It’s just the way it was.

I read with gratitude the cards and letters friends and family sent. Many of them wrote about how much my husband had meant to them, and expressed their sorrow at his passing. Those were the letters that meant so much.

I understood acquaintances awkwardness with my grief, but there was nothing I could do, beyond trying to alleviate their unease with my own sense of caring.

Gradually I grew into my life, a new life where I carved a niche for myself. Over time, I grew to enjoy living again. Some days when I thought I had progressed so very far, I would suddenly go into a depressive state of mind. I hated when that happened and tried to think analyze why it happened, but some days it just came unbidden and pulled me down.

At about three and a half years after my husband’s passing, I began to feel a noticeable lightening of my spirit, as if I’d suddenly found new purpose in my life. I had been doing some dating, and had reached the point where I decided to empower myself by not dating men who were not in the same space mentally and emotionally as I was.

By four years, I knew I had made it on my own this long, I would continue to be alone until the right partner came along. No more rushing into dead end relationships. My writing career took on new life, giving me a sense of  purpose once more. I truly began to enjoy my life as I developed new friendships and took on interesting job endeavors.

The little whine inside me that protested my circumstances, became quiet and almost content. Somehow, I had skipped over some milestones in the last several years and made my life my own. I am proud of myself for where I have gone and where I will go. It’s been an interesting journey, and totally unpredictable, a journey I expect to get better with each day.

In the Midst of Grief

When you’re in the midst of grief, some days something as simple as the words of a song can touch you very deeply and bring the tears of memory to your eyes.

New Book Reviews for A Journey Well Taken: Life After Loss by Elaine Williams

I am posting the latest book reviews for “A Journey Well Taken: Life After Loss.” Some of them were received via email. At this point I have about 22 positive reviews on the book, which will be available June 2008.

“I enjoyed your book! It’s obvious that you’re a good writer and it’s a heart-felt story.”

Diane Brandon
Integrative Intuitive Counselor & Intuition Teacher, Speaker
Author of “Invisible Blueprints: Intuitive Insights for Fulfillment in Life”
http://www.dianebrandon.com

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“The book is good and I am sure that it will be quite helpful to early/young widows.

It is also a quick read – which is also a good thing as something complex was certainly beyond me during those early years and I know this is the case for many women. As well, you do catch some of the nuances of widowhood – nuances which can only be brought to light by one who has been there. Best of luck with it.”

Mie Elmhirst PCC, MBA, Widow’s Life Coach
http://www.widowsbreathe.com

“I related to so many things you shared in your book. I’m encouraged by how you have uncovered your own inner strength through your journey. I hope and continue to pray that God will reveal his purpose for your life as well as my own. I’ve been drifting since my husband’s death in 2004.

After, 28 years of marriage with my junior high school sweetheart I have felt totally alone and lost even with two grown children and three wonderful granddaughters. One of which was born following my husband’s death in 2005 and now carries his name forward. It’s just not the same. It was very helpful to know you have walked through the challenges and you are moving forward by taking new steps every day. Blessings to you and thank you for sharing with me. So, many will be blessed and encouraged by reading your book.”

Karen White
Widowed 2004

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“We have some things in common when it comes to the subject of grief and it feels as though I know you after reading ‘A Journey Well Taken: Life After Loss’. I admire your willingness to be open and vulnerable — I’ve seen pain and loneliness in there too, and you talk about that openly.”

Fred Frank, Owner Comfort Music and
http://www.growingthroughgrief.com

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Testimonials Received via email

“I just want to say that I read your excerpts of your story and I found it so touching and inspirational. I found it by accident, as if I was led to it. I lost my husband suddenly and have experienced all that you mention as far as grieving. Just recently my mother was diagnosed with esophagus cancer, and has elected to try radiation. She is a two-time survivor of cancer. So what I’ve read so far, in your excerpt from your book, is very informative, and so touching. Thank you for sharing it.”

Steppingstone

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“Thank you so much. . . it helps somehow to know what you’re feeling is normal and that you’re not alone with those feelings. The more stories I read the more I realize
I’m not going crazy, but that I’m grieving. You have taken so many words right out of my own mouth. Any help on healing is a welcome in my life.”

Bonnie S. widow of 3 years

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“I really enjoyed reading your book. I just wanted you to know I feel some of your pain. Thanks again for writing your book and may God bless you.”

Polly R.

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“Thank you for sharing your story with us. You are very strong and give me courage.”

Nicole

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“I was looking on the web for information to help my mom who was just widowed a month ago. I ran across your story. As I began to read it I got goose bumps. I knew your husband had esophageal cancer as soon as I read about his burping. My dad just lost his battle with that horrid disease. We also tried many alternatives because he also felt he wouldn’t survive the traditional approach.

My heart goes out to you. Your husband was way too young to be stricken down by this disease. Your children should have been able to have their dad much longer. He sounded like a good man. I am sorry that you weren’t able to grow old together, as I am sure you planned. My dad was 76, full of life, a great husband, father, and grandfather and interested in everything. Even though we know he lived a full life we thought he was too young, but we are all grateful for having had him that long. . . my mom misses him like crazy. Thanks for sharing your story.”

Cathy B.

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“I am a 47 year old woman and just lost my husband 30 days ago today suddenly from cardiac arrest. Finding and reading your excerpt tonight is truly a blessing and has brought me comfort in knowing that I’m not alone. What you’ve put into words describes so much of what I’m feeling inside. I will look forward to reading more of your journey that is only beginning for me.”

Patti W., widowed 1 month

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“I was very moved by your story. Like you, I also lost my husband suddenly to cancer and believe that although we move on and stay strong for our children, our hearts never really heal. I read the first part of your book to my best friend last night who stood with me and went with me to chemo with my husband. The tears rolled down our faces as we shared in your grief.”

Miriam B.

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“I’ve just finished reading your story. My Dad, my Mom’s partner for 38 years, died. . . the past 2 months have been, as you can imagine, very, very difficult. I was looking online about what a person goes through when they lose their life partner. I want to understand what my Mom is going through that she may not be able to express. I also wanted to find something that would maybe encourage her, and give her hope.

Your story touched me so deeply… It brought me to tears. (I had to close my door and just take the time I needed to read your story in its entirety.) Thank you for taking the time to write your story… Please know you’ve touched a life today.”

Jeanette P.”I just want to say that I read your excerpts of your story and I found it so touching and inspirational. I found it by accident, as if I was led to it. I lost my husband suddenly and have experienced all that you mention as far as grieving. Just recently my mother was diagnosed with esophagus cancer, and has elected to try radiation. She is a two-time survivor of cancer. So what I’ve read so far, in your excerpt from your book, is very informative, and so touching. Thank you for sharing it.”

Anon

Inspirational Grief video at The Light Beyond

http://www.thelightbeyond.com/movie.html
This is a beautiful and inspirational movie with a wonderful soundtrack, found at thelightbeyond.com. The website also has a lot of helpful information and links relating to grief, loss and bereavement.