Category Archives: Grief

bereavement and grief

Facing Forward and Accepting What Is

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Guest Blogger: Melissa Miles McCarterbereavement and grief

One of the consequences of having infertility and loss is my romanticizing motherhood. In 2003, my daughter died of SIDS; I had an ectopic pregnancy in 2004 and have struggled with secondary infertility ever since. The most joy I have had in life was during the month my daughter was alive. Because my joy was interrupted, I never got to feel any of the inevitable losses mothers go through. I never had to feel the loss of identity mothers often feel, never had to feel sad that my daughter was no longer my baby. Every month since that I haven’t been pregnant has made me feel like I would never feel joy again. I didn’t  realize that my joy would have been interrupted in other ways during mothering; that joy wasn’t what mothers only feel.

I became aware of a more realistic notion of motherhood through editing and publishing Joy, Interrupted: An Anthology on Motherhood and Loss. Many of the contributors wrote about the death of their child and infertility. But many others wrote about other forms of loss, whether through adoption, estrangement, individuation, and more. My view of loss was myopic before I read these pieces. I saw loss only in the context of not having a child; it has never occurred to me that loss was also part of mothering throughout a child’s life.

Thus, an important part of healing from my losses has been accepting what is, rather than being stuck in my longing. My life is no longer defined by nostalgia. I am learning to find joy in other ways, such as in step-mothering, getting a PhD, my relationship with my husband, and editing the anthology. I know it sounds clichéd to say that happiness means appreciating what you have rather than what you don’t have; but this has been a hard lesson for me to learn. My grief has been reset every month that the pregnancy stick has been negative, and I have continuously been catapulted into desperate longing.

Now, my longings have lessened. I still hope every month, but every month my cycle ends in blood, I know longer feel fatally wounded. My heart still aches when I think about my daughter, but I am also appreciative of the joy I felt when she was alive. I am learning to feel joy again.  Rather than obsessing over what isn’t, I am getting better at accepting what is.

Bereavement means defining yourself in a way that isn’t dependent on your loss. I am no longer just the mother whose child died, no longer just infertile. My life isn’t stuck in the negative.  Healing for me means seeing life as it is, not just what I want it to be.

Facing forward is hard for me. As a writer, the past has been important to me. Dwelling on my past has helped me make sense of now. But, I realize that I can get stuck in the past. One of the hardest parts of my early grieving was flashbacks of my daughter’s death. The puff of blood coming out of her nose, her body limp in my arms, the ambulance ride to the hospital, the moments waiting alone in a stark room at the hospital to see if she was alive or not; the haze of the funeral. My heart felt broken whenever a flash went through my mind.

Now I know that I was probably dealing with PTSD. I couldn’t help seeing these images over and over, getting stuck in the moment of the tragedy. Also, I realize that going over and over the moment of her death I kept wishing for it to be different. I wanted my prayers now to rewind time and make it be different. Being in the past meant time travelling and hoping to bend time to my will.

And infertility has also been a way of being stuck in what isn’t. Wanting to get pregnant every month meant being keenly aware of the disappointments I had already felt month after month. I braced myself, feeling like nothing would change, and I would be disappointed again. My pain now was determined by my pain then.

My current place in my grief journey is to look ahead and not feel trapped in what has been. I have hopes that aren’t dependent on replacing my past losses. I can imagine living with dampening pain, the heartache less intense, and moving toward joy once more. Accepting what is while wanting more is a delicate balance. It is my challenge, but I am facing forward once more.

About the Author

Dr. Melissa Miles McCarter lives in a small community of Arcadia Valley in Southeast Missouri, with her husband, Dr. William Matthew McCarter, step-son Britin, and pets (including their English bulldogs, Boss Hog and Daisy). In addition to being an author, Melissa is the publisher of a small press, Fat Daddy’s Farm. As an editor and publisher, Melissa’s goal is to help uncommon voices grow and flourish.

moving on

Moving Forward after the Death of a Loved One

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Guest Blogger: Lyndsi Decker

Although the prospect that you can lose a loved one in the near future is probably in the back of your mind, it is something you must brace yourself for now.

Smiles, optimism, and laughter

It will help to spend much of your time smiling a little and being optimistic – spending all day moping and looking sad will only exacerbate your grief while making those you come into contact with feel bad. It is also necessary to maintain a sense of humor. Think about something funny that has happened. By reading funny comic strips, telling jokes and doing anything else that makes you and others laugh, you will recuperate faster and more easily in addition to making people you see and talk with on a regular basis happier.

Reminiscing

It is smart to reminisce and reflect on the good times you had with your loved one. Thinking about the fun you had together and having a conversation about this with others who are willing to talk about it will make the healing process smoother.

Listening to music

Hearing music you like is a fantastic way to make your grief disappear much sooner. While hearing songs you like a lot on the radio, you may sway your head back and forth to a beat that pumps me up. Playing the piano gives me pleasure and a feeling of achievement.

Spending time with family and friends
Spend more time with those who mean a lot to you. It will give you less time to be miserable.

Giving a testimonial

At the memorial service, I discussed the good times I recently had with my mom. Doing this enabled me to express the importance of cherishing the time we have with those we love.

Staying physically and emotionally strong

It is crucial to eat an adequate amount of food and continue to pursue your hobbies. The loved one you lost would want you to go on living your life through peace and joy.

Finally, you should rent storage units to keep your deceased family member’s belongings in until you decide what to do with them.

About the Author

Lyndsi Decker is a freelance writer and is currently promoting self storage Riverside CA and storage units Chicago. She is also a mother of two and enjoys blogging about home and family.

Hudson

Farewell, But Never Goodbye

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(A Poem by Craig Kyzar in Memory of Hudson)

 

The last jagged fragments
trickle over stuttering lips.
I have nothing left to cry.

So bravely you fought,
through a world filled with pain.
Accepting peace with more grace than ever.

A warm pool of shards.
So many fond memories.
I smile at their brilliant reflection,
and bleed as they cut ever deeper.

Your road has not ended.
Such roads never do.
They simply transform into new.

Now free of the structure
and harshness of life,
finally free to walk your own path.

I will carry you forward
in this new life I find,
and bury my anger beneath gratitude.

I know you were ready.
Well, I never was.
I hope I made you proud,
as you have always made me.

Today, I awaken to a somber grey sky.
A mourning world relays my emotion.
But later on, in a day or two,
The sky will clear again.

The sun will shine through
and deliver your warmth.
This time not from beside,
but high above.

I will see you then,
and I will know
that we truly never part at all.

 

About the Author

Craig Kyzar is a former journalist and international attorney, earning his Master of Laws degree from NYU School of Law. Upon graduation, Craig spent eight exciting years practicing law in large firms around Manhattan before turning his focus toward a much smaller clientele. Today, Craig is heavily involved in nonprofit work dedicated to enhancing children’s literacy skills and connecting economically disadvantaged youth with a life-changing love of reading.

Dealing with Grief, Years after a Loved One Passes Away

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Guest Blogger: Chi

Chi

Chi

Seven years ago, my grandfather passed away in his sleep. Despite having trouble with his heart in the years preceding his death, the end was still unexpected. The retirement center, where he lived, was cognizant of his condition, thanks to his  medical alert system. The blessing was that he didn’t suffer; he simply slipped away during a pre-dinner nap. The curse is that no one in our family got the chance to say goodbye. Aside from his passing, what bothers me most is that I have little closure all these years later. Grief rises and there is little I can do, except ride the wave when it comes. Hopefully, these tips will help you in the aftermath of a loved one’s death, no matter how long it’s been since they passed away.

1. Go with the flow

Accept grief when it comes to you. Stopping yourself from crying or feeling sad or thinking you should just ‘get over’ someone’s death isn’t fair to your healing process. It’s no one’s business how long it takes you to accept the passing of someone you loved. Frustration with bereavement is likely inevitable—being reminded of the death and the resulting sadness can be emotionally exhausting—but understanding grief’s place in your life can help acceptance come that much quicker.

2. Retrain your brain

It may take considerable effort, but remember the good times you had with your loved one. It took a long time for me to remember the way my grandfather’s whiskers bristle-brushed my cheek when we hugged ‘hello’ during family functions. I was stuck on how he had looked in his coffin, which did little to help me move past his death. As time went on, I was able to revert to memories of summertime visits and the look of joy on his face when I saw him after he had knee surgery. Keeping handy photographs of his smiling face helps me remember how strong and kind he was. Some days, I can’t look at them without immediately getting sad, but that’s okay. I accept the grief instead of blocking it out.

3. Share your pain

There’s no sense in suffering alone. No matter how you proactively deal with pain—including making art, talking to a friend, or engaging the help of a professional—find an outlet for your feelings. I spent plenty of time in front of the television, essentially feeling sorry for myself, and that wasn’t useful to my healing. Journaling through my feelings in words and pictures would have been better, but I also accept that I did at the time what made the most sense. You can’t force yourself to accept a loved one’s passing any more than you can force yourself to start grieving ‘properly’ already.

4. You can do this

Remember that life isn’t a sitcom—nothing is magically solved in 30 minutes. Love fiercely, remember kindly, and channel your grief into something that will help your heart heal. Take all the time you need; there’s no statute of limitations on grief.

About the Author

Chi is a writer and visual artist who enjoys poetry, abstract expressionism, memoirs, and photography. She blogs at www.instructionsoptional.com.

 

The Power of Language: Grief as a Relationship

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Guest Blogger: Leslee Tessmann

Leslee Tessmann

Leslee Tessmann

Because we are human beings who have language, we actually have a relationship to everything and everyone. Our words give us our experience of the people, places and things around us because they form our opinions, thoughts and assessments. Those thoughts and assessments create the reference point from which we relate to anything and everyone and we begin to live from an almost automatic thinking process based on our opinions of what we like and don’t like. For example, consider the word ‘bug.’ For some human beings, a bug is another life form and fascinating to watch and observe (especially to small children!) so their relationship to bugs is based on intrigue and curiosity. Yet for others, bugs can be frightening or at the very least inconvenient to remove from one’s home so the relationship to bugs would be sourced from fear rather than from curiosity. Same word or object, yet two very different relationships and experiences

Now, let’s apply the same theory to grief. For many people, particularly in the Western world, the word ‘grief’ brings to mind pain and lots of uncomfortable, to say the least, physical sensations and emotions. Again, because we have language we have opinions about which emotions and physical sensations we would rather feel. We usually want the ‘good’ kind of emotions like happiness and joy, so our relationship to grief is sourced from a preference not to feel pain, sadness, anger, or all the emotions that arise when one grieves. When they do arise, we actually end up adding to our suffering by resisting the experience of our grief. However, in some countries—particularly in Eastern cultures—the word grief evokes something completely different. Instead, it symbolizes an energy that heals, honors what’s happening in the present moment, and opens one’s heart to an experience that includes love and joy as much as pain and suffering. Same word or experience, yet two different relationships and experiences.

The key point to what I’ve just described is that because we have language, we can create whatever kind of relationship we want to anything, anyone, at anytime—including grief. So, if we use words such as “sacred,’ ‘friend,’ or ‘trusted friend,’ our experience of grief and its healing process becomes completely altered. The gift of making a conscious choice about how we are going to relate to our grief is the expansion and opening up of our hearts and lives to life. We take a magnificent leap of faith into the unknown of a new relationship to healing. Are you ready to take that kind of leap of faith? If not, what’s holding you back from trusting yourself and life?

About the Author

Sacred Grief, 2nd EditionAs her story in Sacred Grief describes, a series of challenging circumstances eventually propelled her into a time of self-discovery. The recognition of her alcoholism and ensuring sobriety in 1994 pushed her into her first conscious experience of working with deep, unresolved grief. She became active in Al-Anon and Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) and eventually shared about her recovery at treatment centers, colleges, and
Al-Anon and AA meetings and retreats. Her authentic, straight-forward expression of life before and after recovery was appreciated and acknowledged by audiences. Over time she went on to create and facilitate classes that dealt with working with life on life’s terms, a large part of what Sacred Grief is all about.