Heartache To Healing

Category: HOW DO YOU DEAL WITH GRIEF

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  • Grieving Child Loss

    Grief is like the ocean; It comes on like waves ebbing and flowing

    By Tracy Sheppard

    As I sit on my back deck on this warm and humid May day, the wind is blowing in a warm muggy breeze. The trees are dancing and swaying. The sturdy white oak tree is like a mother to the leaves. Most appear to be securely attached to her core. Then a big gust blows by, and one lonely leaf has blown away, never to be held by its mother again. I am grieving the loss of a child.

    I am like that tree. Sturdy and strong most of the time. Blessed to have the leaves that I so strongly have protected and nurtured. Overwhelmed with sadness and heartache over the leaf that wasn’t strong enough and blew away.
    There are no words to describe what it feels like to have a piece of your soul ripped away, but this grief feels like the ocean waves.

    “Grief is like the ocean; It comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.” – Vicki Harrison

    My sweet angel physically left our earthly world, 2 ½ years ago. There isn’t a minute of the day that passes that I don’t miss her. That longing, and emptiness is so strong, it can still bring me to my knees. A part of my soul was ripped away on that August day. I will never be the same person I was before that day. How could I be?

    This journey called grief

    For me, this grief journey has been one of anger, heartache, sadness, uncertainty, unfairness, faith, friendship, and love just to name a few.
    While at the beach, watching the sunrise, and listening to the waves crashing in, I felt a sense of peace come over me. I wrote my daughter’s name in the sand. Within seconds, the tide came in and washed it away. Like life, one day you are here in the physical world, and within an instant you are carried away from it.
    The sun rising over the ocean, in a sense for me, was more than just an orb rising over the water. It is a new beginning. A new day. A day to be thankful. A day to make my daughter proud. A day to relish in. Knowing that the tide could come in any second and erase another name away.
    I miss my daughter, every second of everyday. When I wrote her name in the sand, I wanted her there with me. To hold her hand. To see her smile and laugh, as she saw the pelican walking the beach. Hearing her giggle when watching the seagulls swooping down to grab a scrap of food that was left behind. To see the joy in her eyes, at the sheer beauty of the ocean. That part of my soul is always missing.

    Forever, there will be a hole in my heart

    Only I have the power to let that hole in my heart continue to gape or keep my promise to her that we will not live a life of complete sorrow. Some days that promise is kept. Some days the grief is so strong, that the hole gapes wide open. It’s ok! I don’t beat myself up over my feelings. They are mine. I own them. No one else does.

    Societies expectations of grief

    Societies expectations of what they think grief is, doesn’t weigh on my shoulders like it did in the beginning. Many days the waves are calm and peaceful. On the days the waves are stormy and strong, I allow the waves to take me. It’s ok to not be able to swim all the time. Sometimes, I have to almost drown, in order to realize how strong, I am. I can succumb to the storm, and fight the waves, and know that I won’t drown. I see her holding her hand out to me. She says “Mommy you are strong, I know you feel weak right now, but take my hand, just like I always took yours. I am your strength now.” She wants me to be happy. She wants me to live life. No matter how hard that may be some days. I will try hard to do it! I will always do it for her!

    I will take on the waves. I will surf over some and come out victorious. The big ones I take on may pull me under. I may feel like I am drowning when taking on some of the waves. But, I have no doubt those big waves will always spit me back out, and my daughter will be there with her hand outstretched to pull me through. She was always my strength. Even though we are separated in body, we will forever be entwined by love and spirit. The wind will always be her whisper. The sun will always be her warmth. The ocean waves will always be her sweet kisses on my cheek, reminding me she is with me always, wherever I may go.

    Life is precious and unpredictable

    Tracy Sheppard & daughterRide the wave no matter how small or large it is. In a second that wave could be gone, never to be seen or heard from ever again. Embrace it, and give thanks for the precious, beautiful, thing we call life. One day we will all be just a name in the sand.

  • How Tragedy Can Lead Us To Find Our Passion For Life

    How Tragedy Can Lead Us To Find Our Passion For Life

    Often a tragic death brings out the strength and passion of others

    I have been involved with grief support since 2007 and have witnessed so many amazing transformations that have come from tragic deaths of loved ones.  People who have somehow found their resilience to journey through their grief and serve others.

    I’ve often pondered how any of us find the strength to help others as we walk down the path of our own grief and I discovered that for many, tragedy can bring out our passion for serving others. Serving is a trait we probably always had but sometimes we are propelled to take action.

    Some of these courageous givers are women like Susan Retik and Patti Quigley who were widowed following the deaths of their husbands on 9/11. These two women wondered how the widowed Afgan women were surviving their losses and they reached out half way across the world to help and in in 2003, founded the organization named “Beyond the 11th.”

    Another organization that followed was “The American Widow Project” started by two young military widows whose husbands died in the Iraq war.  They now provide support to the spouses of our most recent fallen heroes through peer based support programs.

    Another brave young couple Mark and Susan Lacek lost their baby girl who they named Faith and built a retreat center called “Faith’s Lodge” that offers respite and support for other families who are dealing with serious illness or death of a child.

    And then there is Len and Cherylann Gengel whose 19 year old daughter Brit died in the catastrophic earthquake in Haiti while she was there on a mission trip.  Her parents vowed to continue her mission serving the poor and started a foundation called “Be Like Brit” to serve the people of Haiti.

    There are many, many stories just like these where people are making a difference following their personal adversities.

    How we respond to tragedy and death is as different as life itself

    Don’t think that I’m suggesting to everyone who may read this article that they should start a non-profit to change the multitudes, but the true meaning of this article is to share the incredible resilience people have and the love we have to help someone else who may one day share our pain.  Often in life the best teachers are those who have experienced something and then teach it to others.

    I believe we all have life experiences we can share with another person, maybe it’s just a kind word or gesture to let someone know we care.  Perhaps it’s acknowledging someone else’s loss with understanding and speaking words of comfort.  Just know we all individually have the power to make a difference for someone else.

     

    “Adversity has the effect of eliciting talents, which in prosperous circumstances would have lain dormant.” – Horace

  • How To Become Bigger Than Our Pain

    ~Grief Guide on Becoming Bigger Than Our Pain~

    • What you put out comes back all the time, no matter what. Dealing with your rage and grief and fear will give you life. Acknowledge the pain, and then let it go.
    • You define your own life. Don’t let other people tell you how to grieve. It is ok to be sad; the tears have to come to wash away the deep, raw pain. It takes as long as it takes.
    • The ugly details of the death have no power over the present. Only you give it power. You push the pain out with love memories every time it comes back.
    • When people hurt you with their own fears and terror that it could be them, take a breath. Rise above the pain, and forgive their ignorance. (more…)

  • As Time Goes By – Celebrate & Remember

    Do you remember the song “As Time Goes By?”  it was made famous in the move “Casablanca” and hundreds of artists have performed it over the years.  Time going by is a fact of life and yet when you are grieving the loss of a loved one time can feel as it it stopped.

    Just like you,  every year I cope with the anniversary of the death’s of my Mom and husband – I wonder why it always feels like yesterday.  We tend to conjure up all those feelings of what might have been, what we would be doing now and if only I could…(and I fill in the blank).

    (more…)

  • Journaling through Grief: Finding Your Relief Valve

    The mind really can be like a steel trap. Our thoughts and feelings swirl around inside our heads without an outlet, causing a buildup of pressure and grief – especially in a situation as devastating as the loss of a loved one.

    But there is a relief valve: Putting your thoughts on paper.

    Journaling is a form of self-expression that comes with no rules, boundaries or expectations that anyone else will ever read what you write. But by getting those thoughts out of your head and onto paper, you open your mind to valuable insight and healing.

    How journaling has helped me

    When my daughter, Isabelle, passed away in 2007, I had gallons of guilt stored up inside of me. I shouldn’t have brought her to daycare that day. I shouldn’t have put her in that outfit. I should have told her I loved her one more time …

    I let the guilt simmer up there for a day or two before I opened my notebook, cranked that valve wide open and let my feelings spill onto the blank pages. In the beginning, there were only words: “devastated,” “shattered,” “depressed,” and frequently the question, “Why?” But then came the sentences: “I feel like there’s an empty void inside me that will never be filled …” And eventually there were paragraphs.

    As I scribbled on the pages, not caring about the legibility of my writing, I felt the pressure ease out of my head and felt the constraints loosen around my chest. I allowed myself the time I needed to feel sad or angry or lost without apologizing for those feelings. Instead, I encouraged them. Armed with my pen and paper, I had a newfound weapon to help me stand up against the loneliness of grief.

    Time has passed – four-and-a-half years – and the sharp edges of loss have softened a bit for me, but I continue to write in a journal. Sometimes I incorporate photos or drawings into the pages when words are hard to find. My entries have changed as my journey has changed, but the benefits remain the same.

    I often write before bed, taking 15 minutes or so to clear the clutter from my head. Other times I give myself a writing prompt to help me reach deeper into the moments I treasure the most.

    Getting started

    Finding a journal in which to record my thoughts is my favorite part. Barnes and Noble has an incredible selection, but a simple notebook will do the trick if you want to get started right away. The only rule is that you refrain from judging the words you choose to use. Write freely. This journal is for you, not for an audience.

    Here are some ideas to get you started:

    1. Write one word for the most prevalent emotion you feel right now, then write a brief paragraph describing the details of that emotion to someone who has never experienced it before.
    2. Heaven’s Mailbox: Write a letter addressed to your beloved. You can write about your day, share a favorite memory about him or her, or tell your beloved the things you miss most.
    3. Letter Poem – Write the letters of your beloved’s name vertically on your journal page, then write a word or sentence using that first letter.
    4. Treasured Moment – Recall a treasured moment. Draw lines to divide your paper into five sections labeled “Hear,” “See,” “Smell,” “Taste” and “Feel.” Close your eyes and focus on one sense at a time. When you’re ready, write down words and sentences related to that sense.

    Whether you’ve just experienced loss or you’re 10, 15, 20 or more years out, journaling can act as the relief valve to help release some of the burden that often weighs so heavily on your mind as you continue moving forward on your journey.

     

    Amy Lyon lives in Prior Lake, Minnesota, with her husband Chad, son Wyatt and angel in Heaven Isabelle. She is a community newspaper editor and the author of “Beyond Belief: A memoir of death and rebirth,” to be released September 2012 from Chalice Press. www.amylyon.com