Heartache To Healing

Blog

  • Grieving the Death of a Sibling – Memories in a Box

    Grieving the death of a sibling can be a heartbreak experience especially when the sibling dies at a young age.

    Guest Post Allison Black

    I remember September 5, 2010 as if it was yesterday. I peeled open my eyes, the celebrations of the night before still fogging my brain. I could hear quiet talking. I rubbed my eyes and saw my roommate on the phone. She hung up. “Get dressed my parents are taking us to lunch.” I rolled out of bed and threw on some clothes. We laughed about the fun we had the night before and thought how satisfying a big lunch sounded. We walked outside. The sky was clear, the air crisp, the sun shining. “It’s gorgeous out!” we exclaimed as we made plans to go for a hike after lunch. 

    Life can change in a minute

    And then we went to lunch and before we even got our meals my life forever changed in the parking lot of an Olive Garden. All our plans, and all the fun we had the night before, it all just seemed so insignificant. This gorgeous, perfect day would forever be remembered as the worst.

    My brother was gone

    My role model, my protector, my confidant, my silly singing-living room wrestler- music-loving- bear hugging big brother was gone. I couldn’t understand it and to say I have learned to understand would be a lie. It still makes no sense how a healthy 27-year-old could lose their life. 

    There is a clear line in my life

    Before Sean died and after he died. The memories from before, they seem so close but also so far out of reach. That innocent girl unaware of such tragedy, that intact family from before- they’re familiar but also vastly different.

    My brother has been dead for almost 9 years. How is that even possible? I must ask myself this question a thousand times a week. They say time heals all wounds. It’s true. I don’t cry myself to sleep anymore. I hardly ever wake up in the middle of the night haunted by the idea that his death was all a dream. And yet, my wound is still there. Sean was a limb I lost, and I am always aware that he used to be here but isn’t anymore. But I’ve learned to live without that limb. I’ve adapted.

    There is life after Sean’s death

    Someone once told me grief is like having a box of memories on a shelf. You’re always aware the box is there. But sometimes you may choose to take the box down and sort through all those memories. Other times, the shelf breaks out of nowhere and the box comes spilling out. I’ve always found solace in that. Sometimes you feel crazy when that shelf breaks. It’s been 9 years and there are days when I feel like I’m right back in that parking lot getting the news. 

    Connection between siblings

    But I always believed that no one will ever know you as well as your siblings. They are the only people who truly know your life, know your story. They are the only people who can relate to growing up in your home, the only people who can hold your childhood memories. Sean knew me. And I knew Sean. I hold his secrets. I share his memories. So it’s no wonder that the shelf has to break sometimes. I lost a piece of my life, my history, one of the two closest persons who will ever truly know me. 

    Death leaves us with questions

    I remember when he first died, I couldn’t imagine a life without him. I couldn’t imagine going on with my life without him. How could I go back to school and focus when “Sean’s Gone” kept echoing in my mind?

    How could I start a career without his wisdom and advice? How could I fall in love with someone who never knew Sean? How could I have children who would never meet him?

    But life kept moving and I found I was able to move with it. I moved home and found strength in the love of my family. I finished school. I fell in love with a man who never knew Sean and yet does his best to get to know him through stories. I started a career and on the toughest days, I hear Sean’s advice and wisdom when I replay old conversations in my mind. And when I have children, they’ll know they have an uncle in heaven who loves them.

    Keeping memories alive

    Every day I know the box is there. And there are days I am mad as hell to know that’s what I have left of him. But for the most part, time is healing my wounds. Life after Sean’s death is different. I am different. And yet, life is good. I am happy. Sean died doing something he loved. He died on a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the air crisp, the sky clear. What a gorgeous day, I had exclaimed. I made plans. Life went on. But, I knew Sean and he knew me. And for that, I will always be grateful. 

    Allison Black - Sean McCarthy
    Allison Black & her brother Sean McCarthy

    Allison lives in New Jersey with her husband, Joe, and their dog, Odin. She is a first-grade teacher and a board member of The Sean McCarthy Live Passionately Foundation.

  • Life is Like a Compass

    Life is like a compass

    Just as our grief doesn’t follow a predictable course like a map, neither does life. In fact, it’s more like a compass because it points you in the general direction and then you figure out where to turn.

    We can listen to all sorts of people who try to help us learn how to grieve. There are thousands of books on the subject! But we’re all as different as the leaves on a tree. Grief is a process, not an event!

    If you think about the compass inside you, it is your inner wisdom or intuition that guides your way if you listen. I believe we all have that inner wisdom if we trust in it. Sometimes people ask me, “I don’t know what my intuition is JoAnne.” So I explain it as that little voice in your head that you guides you to a feeling, a place or an emotion. It’s those things you so often take for granted, that voice that knows what to say or do in a given situation.

    Stop Second-Guessing Your Intuition

    When you stop second-guessing everything that comes to you, something amazing happens…life stops happening to you and starts happening for you. When you trust yourself, even through grief you know what’s best for you in any given moment. If you decide that today you need to cry and have a pity party – then do that. If you decide to laugh and have fun for an evening instead of mourning alone at home because you think you shouldn’t have fun because someone has died – then do that anyway.

    Judging is For Sporting Events

    Life is imperfect so stop judging yourself! I say leave judging to sporting events, not your daily life’s decisions. We do the best we can each day with what we know. Stop judging yourself starting today! That means the judgment on where you should be in your grief journey, what other people think you should be doing, the questioning of your faith and the myriad of other things you ‘should’ feel or do. Stop shoulding youself!

    Don’t Force Change

    Your life is forever changed when we lose someone significant in our lives. Often the loss of a spouse or a child changes us in ways we never planned for. There is time to explore change, you may not see benefits now, just be open to change.

    The key to living life is to be curious and open to change. Enduring the transitions of our life is the key to your new normal – your updated life.

    We must let go of the life we planned so aas to accept the life that is waiting for us.

    Joseph Campbell

    Focus on What’s Controllable

    Understanding what’s controllable in your life and what is not will help you to focus on what you can do – or what’s possible. Now is the time to stop focusing on what you can’t do because that will keep you locked in the past. Use your compass to show you the way, be open to asking for directions when necessary and stay the course. Life has a way of working out when we look for the best to come.

  • My Heart Must Go On – Grieving a Child’s Suicide

    Gracie Thompson, author, mother

    I can no more stop loving my child who lives than I can stop loving my child who died

    Dare I return to the beginning of sorrows? Yes, I dare to return to my story, but in a different way ~ through my heart. My heart was no more than a beating, necessary-for-life organ until my son’s heart stopped beating.
    Over the years I have thought more deeply, even spiritually, about this vital organ and I will share some of my thoughts with you for your consideration and response if you like.

    Now at year thirteen, I have had a longer period of time (more than most) to reflect on the loss of my firstborn to suicide. He was such a tiny human at birth. He came early and was born breech, weighing a smidge under 6 lbs. I thought he was huge to birth as I stubbornly stuck to my original plan to do a natural birth. Not sure I’d do that today, but I did it then.

    He was tiny and perfect. I fell in love with every inch of him. Ten fingers, ten toes, with wrinkly skin all over, I thought he was the most beautiful baby ever. My heart swelled to bursting with love for this little one.

    My firstborn was a toddler when his brother was born. The two of them were close, like two peas in a pod, and did everything together. They fought hard and they played hard. I didn’t appreciate the fighting, but I loved watching them at play, their heads touching while they were engrossed in something.

    My boys remained close as they grew up, choosing their own friends and particular interests, but I soon noted changes that were troubling in my firstborn. I did my best to be there for him, encouraging him to talk since he was more quiet and introverted than his brother. My firstborn lived for 30 years. He died two weeks before his 31st birthday and within hours after I had a cheerful conversation with him. He was found the next day in his apartment. The Police said he died by suicide.

    I will tell you that the pain of loss is in equal measure to the unconditional love a mother has toward her child. That love does not end with the child’s last breath. That love is permanent and non-negotiable. It is fixed for life. I will feel this deep, ferocious love for both of my children until I draw my last breath. I can no more stop loving my child who lives than I can stop loving my child who died. This love after death stays the same depth, therefore I cannot forget my child. Do not worry that you will forget your child (or other loved one). The details of their being are etched in the lining of your heart.

    Thinking about my love that won’t let my child go makes me more aware of my heart which has been designed by the Master Designer. He created deep pockets in a mother’s heart to hold both memories of laughter and tears. He designed a mother’s heart to be neither fickle nor temperamental. A mother loves unconditionally. She is unable to love otherwise, this child she bore or adopted. This love is complete. It needs no adjustments and transcends Planet Earth.

    God loves all of His children. Each one is His creation with His loving stamp of approval. I picture Him sitting back on His heels after designing each one of my boys. With a smile tugging at the corners of His mouth He says. “There you are. Now you are perfect and ready to be delivered to your mom. She’s gonna love you with the heart I gave her. Never forget that no matter how much she loves you, I still love you more.”

    So what is a mom to do with a heart that won’t forget and always grieves? I cannot speak for you, but I can answer in my frailty as a mom. My heart must go on. I must go on loving those God has entrusted me to love and live my best life with hope. Hope walks beside me in my grief since I believe that it’s just a matter of time before I will be reunited with my firstborn again. We will hug each other not wanting to let go. We will be all smiles as we face life together in the beauty of heaven where there is only joy forevermore.

    Gracie Thompson is retired in Ohio and has found comfort through writing about the loss of her son, Greg. After completing her first book, Shattered by Suicide: My Conversations With God After the Tragic Death of My Son, she took up blogging on social media (see hopeispossible.wordpress.com) to encourage others who are struggling with the loss of a loved one.

  • Love Doesn’t Die – People Do

    Lessons in living from a life well-lived. Sharing memories lives on in each of us.

    A dear friend and mentor died a couple of weeks ago.  She was a month short of her 97th birthday. The funeral service was truly a celebration of a life well-lived. In fact, she was the model of how to live life in grace and because she was such an inspiration, people were not weeping but laughing and smiling as the clergy along with family and friends shared stories of her life.

    Love Doesn’t Die – People Do

    I was so moved by the clergy who wanted us all to know that the love we had for Joan will never leave us. She may have left the earth, but she lives on in all of us evidenced by everyone in attendance who came to celebrate her life.
    This is a reminder to all of us who have lost loved ones  –  know that the love we have for them lives on in our memories, in our families and often in the legacy they left behind.

    You’re as Young as You Feel

    Joan was recognized as one of the oldest motivational speakers in the U.S. which she started at age 50. She published her first book at age 56, “I Don’t Want Much From Life, I Want More!”

    Up until her death, Joan was committed to empowering others and believed that we have more control over our own ageing than we did in the past. Her sixth book “Now or Never – The Choice is Yours” was published in 2018” and sure to inspire others for years to come.

    Joan Kennedy 2018 Book Signing
    “At every age, your life deserves fulfillment, meaning, fun and laughter.”

    Loss Teaches us Lessons in Life

    It sometimes happens we get stuck in our grief; we have a hard time moving forward to live our own life following the death of a loved one or any other deep loss such as divorce, loss of a job or a home. Yes, deep losses can leave a hole in our life, but Joan would say “remember, your loved one would want you to keep living.” 

    As life happens, sometimes we get hit by some challenging curve balls and Joan’s life was no exception. She was orphaned as a child, abandoned, divorced and a single mother. At 65, she endured the loss of her home from a fire. Losing all her professional and personal belongings she thought she would never be able to start again, not at 65.

    One day, in a monthly magazine published by AARP, she came across a statistic that changed the way she perceived herself. The statistic was, “The fastest-growing age group, are people in their 80’s.”

    That fact inspired Joan to re-build her business and start again. It also changed her thinking to more positively proclaim, “I’m only 65.” One of Joan’s powerful messages today is not to let the calendar dictate when you are old and worrying about age is a waste of time.


    No one else is going to come along to make your life more than it is. Your life is an individual responsibility, an individual opportunity, and an individual experience

    Joan Kennedy

    Everything in Life is a Choice

    In March of this year, Joan’s doctor recommended hospice care, he said to her “Joan you’ve climbed many mountains in your life, you’re not going to get over this one.”  At the time I had been working with her on a facilitator manual to accompany her latest book. She wanted her legacy to be carried on through her work and have others teaching workshops based on her book.  She told me a couple of weeks later that she didn’t think she would be graduating from hospice so best get the workbook done!

    Everything in life is a choice, Joan reaffirmed this to me every time I talked with her. After hospice started paying her a visit, she said one day “I’m not alone, I’m not sad. I feel like I’m part of the future.”

    Tomorrow isn’t Promised to Anyone

    I’ve learned much through my own losses along with wisdom from my friend Joan. She said, “the things we wish we had done in our lives will be the things we put off, the dreams we let slip away, relationships we failed to nurture, and projects we started but never finished.” Well done Joan.

    Make the decision now to celebrate your life while honoring and loving those who have passed on. 

    Is there something you want to do with your life that you haven’t?  Leave me a comment below, I’d love to support you. – JoAnne

    JoAnne Funch with Joan Kennedy

  • Hold a Candle for a Grieving Loved One

    Family & friends can be your light in the darkness of grief.

    By Kathryn Haugen

    It has now been six months since I lost my beloved husband, Paul, after almost 38 years together.   I am totally shocked that he is gone and still feel like he will walk through the door at any moment.  

    My emotions are all over the place.  I can talk to people about what happened in a calm manner and then crack up looking at Paul’s shoes. Although I am still in the midst of an emotional roller coaster, I can also see that I am coping better than I could ever have imagined.  I attribute that to being fortunate to have amazing support. Sometimes people do not know what to say or do when a loved one is grieving, including me. 

    Although I cannot say that I have exact answers, I learned a lot from my family and friends.   I hope that my experience will shed some light on how to support a grieving loved one by “being there” with them on their path.

    The lights went out when Paul died. 

    Finding my way through each day without Paul is like walking through the dark with an unknown destination.  Each day I get up and simply start going through the day one step at a time.  Recently, I woke up during the night and was walking into the kitchen. Most of the lights were off, but a nightlight on a corner table cast enough light to see the floor in front of me. I was trying to find my way in the dark and realized how similar it was to how I felt every day. I thought about how family and friends were also shining a light on my path, as if they were holding candles so I could see where to take the next step    

    In the initial days after Paul passed, the door was always open, and people came in to show their love for Paul and our family.  They shared memories of Paul, and we all cried and laughed as we reminisced.  Food kept arriving, and the kitchen was cleaner than usual.  My sisters alternated spending the night and have been my guardian angels.  My children, son-in-law and grandchildren have continued to bring joy into my life, and our relationships have strengthened as we work through our grief together.  Their friends from grade school and high school also shared memories of Paul and how he impacted their lives. Through all the sharing of memories, we have all shed many tears but also enjoyed many laughs.

    Couples who I thought might fade out of my life have stayed in touch.  

    One couple has visited several times from out of town. We have had a lot of fun, and they recently spent an afternoon working in our very neglected back yard.  Another family has taken me and our kids under their wing and included us in their family events. I frequently receive calls, texts, and cards asking how I am doing. I am enjoying reconnecting with people who contacted me, even though we had not talked for years. Friends have invited me to lunch and dinners and even drove out of their way to take me.  My counselor has helped me focus on taking care of myself and to have the courage to feel my grief.  It is through being able to talk to people and to feel safe expressing my feelings that I have been able to begin to heal.

     These family members and friends remind me of my nightlight, as they cast light on my path in the darkness.  The light they bring into my life shines bright enough so that I can take the next step and then the next.   I am not scared and lost in the darkness of losing Paul, as I might be without their light.  Many are also in pain from losing Paul, but they have the courage to face their own sorrow to help us cope.   All I can say is thank you so much for my health and sanity.  I never imagined I could feel so much love through so many tears.

    Kathy Haugen retired from behavioral health nursing after 25 years that included working with adults, children and nursing students. She was blessed with almost 38 years of marriage to Paul and their family life with two children. She now also enjoys being a grandmother to two young grandchildren.