The Passage of Time

Each time I linger just a minute too long at her picture I feel a tug at my heart and a lump in my throat. I fight it because it hurts too much to go there. I don’t think that the passage of time will ever make that less painful.

There is so much raw emotional that swells when I look at her picture. I see the mortality in her face, yet I see the gift she brought to me and others with her uniqueness. I say to myself “walk away” “stop looking” – I do that not because I don’t want to see her I do it to protect my broken heart. The passage of time will not change that.

My heart broke forever on October 13th, 2006 and regardless of all the good things that happen in my life today, my heart will always be broken. I cannot change that. What I can change is how I live my life.

The passage of time will not change the trajectory of my life. Her death will not define my life. It was her life that changed me and made me the person I am today. The passage of time will not change that.

As Easter approaches I am reminded of the resurrection and the life that awaits those who cross over. Easter is the gift I treasure now even more than ever. It is the hope I understand that I will one day see my beautiful daughter again. The passage of time will not change that.

Until next time,

m

There Is No New Normal!

When I read blogs like this, my faith is renewed that my journey is much like many others and that writing is the healing medication we all need to process our grief in our own unique way.

deeincollingo's avatarMourningAmyMarie

My postings may be a bit too raw for the newly bereaved parent. Maybe I am a wee bit too honest about what it has been like for me living without my daughter. If someone searching for hope reads my blog, I wonder if they will be discouraged and come to the conclusion that there is no way to survive this unimaginable loss. However, based on what I am learning from grieving parents who are farther along, you can survive. Just the fact that those parents exist to share their own personal journey comforts me.

As I probably have said before, I remember desperately searching the internet those first few days for a way to survive! Didn’t anyone write a book with instructions how to do this? I am not kidding, I was earnestly searching for a way! Surely this pain will kill me! It seemed that my search engine…

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Stages of Grief

There are several theories out there regarding stages of grief. Some say there are four, five or seven stages. I am more inclined to go with the “Seven Stages” as it was closer to what I experienced when my daughter passed away seven years ago. I felt it appropriate to take this opportunity to discuss the stages of grief due to the most recent horrific events in Kansas. A mother who has just lost not only her father, but her teenage son. Both fatally shot by someone who hated them. The most tragic thing I can fathom is the loss of someone to hate. I found it interesting that the media can’t believe how the mother is able to answer questions and speak so eloquently on TV despite having just lost her son and father. I find it disturbing and frustrating because if people did their homework they would know that this mother is experiencing the first stage of grief called “shock”. She is numb to it all but the time is near when she will begin to shut down and follow the stages of grief.

Shock

Allows you to do things that you can’t even imagine doing during a time of loss. I recall that I planned my daughter’s celebration of life ceremony and spoke at her ceremony within three days of her passing. I often look back and find myself in awe of how I could have done such a thing. I was in the first stage of grief called shock. It gives you a sense of calm and peace that only will last for a short time. Shock is the feeling of disbelief. You may experience a surreal sensation, numbness or an emotional paralysis upon learning bad news. In many ways, this stage allowed me to do what I needed to do to make all the arrangements and get through the initial first few days.

Denial

Within a few days, I found myself crawling around the floor crying out why this happened. I sat and stared at her picture thinking she’d be home any minute and it would have all been a bad nightmare. People can spend too much time in this stage if they do not have the support they need to process the loss. I found I went back and forth between these first two stages often during the first couple of weeks.

Anger

As the days begin to wane, anger sets in and I recall having very strong conversations with God on a daily basis. Some of those moments were very intense. I was very angry with God as I did not understand why I had to endure yet another loss. First my mom and then my daughter. I just became so angry. I had a short fuse. Even shoveling snow ticked me off. I spend a great deal of time thinking I must have missed a clue or I didn’t push harder for my daughter to get better care. Anger can help you release the pain, but it is critical to move beyond the anger or it can cause delays in healing.

Bargaining

Oh I spent a great deal of time praying and talking with God about what I could do so that God could bring her back. I think this stage fuses together with denial and anger so much so that it’s hard to see them apart. For me bargaining and anger go hand in hand.

Depression

Depression can set in when you begin to face the reality of what has happened. I do think it’s appropriate to feel sadness during loss. Sometimes it can be so intense that it washes over you and makes you feel like you just got hit by a tidal wave. It comes without warning and knocks the breath out of you. Sadness needs a voice. I found writing about my pain and loss kept depression at a distance and allowed me to grieve in a healthy way. This is a stage that can lead to needing mental health support – and that is OK.

Testing

This goes along with depression in that you may begin to seek out help to get relief from the heavy sadness that has consumed you for a while. It’s exhausting to grief. I found it was the toughest during the first year after my daughter died. I also found returning to work was the best thing for me. Getting back to life seemed like it would be too much to bare, but in fact, it helped me stay busy and gave me purpose.

Acceptance

This can take a while to achieve, but I’m living proof that it can happen. It takes a lot of work, support from friends, family and professionals – but it is possible to smile again. It is possible to find joy again. Hard work, but all possible.

 

Over the past seven years I’ve been through many of these stages and have gone back and forth so much. Stages of grief look and feel different to each individual experiencing it. Grief has a uniqueness that is like no other. Grief helps us to survive loss. It provides a framework to process our feelings and our pain in a way that is healthy and productive. I would also like to acknowledge that having counseling early and throughout various times over the past seven years has been key to my understanding and acknowledging my loss. I have come to understand that loss does not have to define who I am despite having lost my mom while seven months pregnant and then losing my 17 year old daughter. I know there is a purpose that has come out of my loss and pain and that is how I get up each and every day. It’s not easy and I understand that better than most. But it’s a choice to get up and do something positive. To choose the path that is not the easiest to follow.

I urge you if you are struggling and can’t seem to find a way to process your grief – get help. It is crucial to your journey.

 

Until next time,

M

References:

http://www.mayoclinic.org/patient-visitor-guide/support-groups

http://www.ehow.com/info_8091384_five-may-not-set-order.html

http://www.suzieduke.com/grievingforward.html

 

 

When God Shows His Face – Are You Paying Attention

Today I started my day with about 3 hours of sleep. And well as you may know that is NOT a good way to start your day. By afternoon I was in a sour mood and it only got worse from there. I decided that I wanted to still go over and see my new apartment as I had not seen it yet. When I got there I was so disappointed in a few of the details. It must have shown on my face as the gentlemen I was working with noticed right away and said “I’m so sorry you are sad”. For which I responded “No it’s more like disappointed”.

My emotions got the better of me and I just wanted to run to my car and cry. I was so crushed and over such a trivial detail like counter tops. I mean really. Counter tops. I called my partner and I said to her all about it and how upset I was. Ranted and raved over what I was going to do. She suggested I just get some rest and write about it. Hence the blog post and my asking you to indulge me for just a few paragraphs as it gets better. J

I noticed I needed to stop for gas and which further irritated me because I was so tired – remember! When I’m tired I tend to get a bit nasty with my attitude. I got out of my car and began to pump gas and I looked up to see an elderly man walk up to me. As he did I noticed he looked a little worn for wear. His clothes were dirty and he looked like he hadn’t showered in a few days or weeks. He politely told me that he had run out of gas and at that moment I looked down and saw he was carrying a gas can. I asked him “how much does it hold”? He said it was a five gallon jug. In the back of my mind, I am perturbed that he has chosen me out of all of the people getting gas at that moment in time. But I continued to pump my gas and thinking “should I or should I not” – during this very uncomfortable 5 minutes we bantered back and forth with polite conversation. He began to pay me compliments and said something like “you are very beautiful” and I said “oh thanks” I said I have good genes. For which he said oh your mom must be beautiful and I said curtly – she has passed on. He said oh I’m sorry. I said me too. Then he said you don’t like to pump gas do you. I said “no not really – I think it’s dangerous”. For which he replied – I’ll do it for you. But ohhhh the very skeptical self said “no I can do it”. Then he said something that made me pause…. “You must have had a bad day” – I hope your day gets better now”. Then I felt a shift in my thoughts about what was happening right in front of me.

As I completed filling my tank, I then reached down and pumped a few gallons of gas into his gas can. I completed the purchase and closed up the gas lid. He turned and said thank you very much. I said “you are welcome” and then he turned to me and said “God Bless You”! And it hit me like a ton of bricks. We were meant to cross paths at that very moment. He was there to teach me something. I was so bent out of shape over something so trivial as a counter top when this man clearly was struggling to purchase enough gas to get home. I just wanted to crawl back into my car and cry. I felt so ashamed. I knew God had sent this man to me to teach me that there are more important things in life than material things. While they are nice they should not be such that it impacts my behavior or worth.

I love it when God shows up in my life to teach me these lessons. Life lessons.

So tonight in my prayers I prayed for myself to see more clearly and for that man at the gas station to have a blessing bestowed upon him and for Alyssa, a young girl who lost her battle with cancer today – for her parents who have to begin this journey of grief that we all know too well. I pray that God continues to bless each one of us beyond measure so that we can bless others and sometimes that begins with a simple lesson in humility.

Until next time,

M

 

Looking back…. But not too long!

My dear friends:

As we look to 2014 we find ourselves making new goals and charting our way into making changes in our lives that will fill a promise of forwarding our progression on a course charted for us because of an unfortunate event – the loss of a loved one. In doing so, we must look back at 2013 to see the lessons we were meant to learn and maybe even some lessons we still have to finish. But don’t look back too long. Just long enough to see it for what it was and learn from what did or did not happen. Make a new goal and move forward.

I find using a vision board helps me stay focused on the now in my life. I completed my first vision board about a year after my daughter’s death and it helped me to discover what I wanted out of life. It gave me some hope that life could be realized in a way that I could live out my days feeling like I could still make a difference. Being a mother for 17 years was what I knew and knew well. But I also had a successful career and needed to keep that going. Vision boards can help focus your journey, give life to new things, and give honor to those things that are now gone.

My vision board helped me understand that some things also change after time. And that it is ok. As I completed my first vision board – meaning things I had so lovely placed on it had either come to pass or no longer had meaning. As weeks and months wore on I realized I was losing my vision of what I wanted to achieve and began to slip back into a sense of unknown, a kind of listlessness and it had to stop. It was time for a new vision board.

As I began to form this new board I noticed some of the things I had on my first board still had meaning but appeared in a different light. So I allowed it back on the new board. Some things no longer held that same level of desire and I found new passions I wanted to achieve. The one trend I noticed was that I wanted more color back into my life. It has taken 7 long years to understand that living in a black and white world could only take me so far. It was a safe place. If I wanted to live with purpose – I had to let color back in. Some days I like the safety of my old black and white world, but I also understand that all places of the past can only serve but a limited purpose. And that is this…. To show you how far you have come and gives you fuel to find a renewed passion for life.

Like all things that put our life in perspective whether it be journaling or vision boards, one thing I know is true and that is goals propel us into living a life with meaning. Find your passion and write about it. Cut out pictures of examples that remind you of what happiness means to you. What makes you smile? Don’t take it too seriously. Don’t think about it – just do it. The results will be amazing. Your life will have more meaning and you will see that life can again be colorful.

Until next time

m

God will give you more than you can handle: I guarantee it.

This is a great blog post about the things people say after a loss.

Kayla Scofield's avatarall our lemmony things

There’s a certain phrase I’ve come to really dislike.

All my life, I’ve heard this phrase whenever I go through a rough patch. *And by rough patch, I mean a prickly, gnarly patch that leaves me bleeding to near death*. You’re probably familiar with those kinds of “patches”.

“God will never give you more than you can handle” is the phrase I’m referring to.

more than to bear

And it’s a sweet sentiment, really. The people who say it are speaking from caring and concerned hearts.

BUT–it isn’t true.

I know that sounds harsh, but I promise I haven’t suddenly lost my mind or have become an angry-with-God bitter woman who hates the world. Actually, when I realized the simple fact that God can–and will–give us more than we can possibly bear, it got easier.

And it all started to make more sense.

I’ve often trudged through trials that overwhelm me. Ever since my…

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Why I love New Years

As you know celebrating the holidays is not easy for me. After the death of my daughter, celebrating Thanksgiving and Christmas just gave me a heartache. As the years have passed I have slowly introduced feeling “celebratory” during the holiday season. I must admit at first it was simply putting on the face for all. I find putting up the tree and decorating for the holidays more palatable. But that does not, I repeat, not make it easy. It is just my new normal.

In looking back it was my mother’s passing 25 years ago that created my angst for celebrating the holidays. The holidays became so different for me after my mom’s death and then quickly following five years later, my grandmother passing sealed it for me. I had to create a new normal then with my daughter. Living away from my hometown and family also made it difficult to have that family tradition feeling that I had grown up with. Some of my fondest memories are the ones where my entire extended family joined together each year at Thanksgiving and Christmas. I have had to recreate my own traditions many times over as my life changed. Loss from death or divorce – either way – a loss is a loss and starting over means just that.

If it had not been for some of the most incredible friends along my journey that have shown me such love and friendship, I’m not sure I could have gotten to where I am today. You don’t really know who your friends are until you find yourself starting over with just about nothing. My journey to today has been built on my foundational faith in God and a strong network of friends who continue to lift me up and show me what love truly is. Being the hands and feet of Jesus consistently has encouraged me to see beyond my grief.

New Years for me is a time of rebirth. A time to start fresh. Shake off the cloak of grief from the holidays and bring some life back into my world. If anyone taught me the value of living an extraordinary life it was my daughter Brittany. I’ve always said I choose to live a life that gives honor to my daughter’s presence on this earth. She lived an extraordinary life during her 17 years. Facing many trials and tribulations – yet always with a smile on her face and joy in her heart. So I too try to live an extraordinary life. Choosing to be extraordinary rather than ordinary takes faith and it takes a village.

So as you all look at what 2014 will bring – don’t look back but only for a moment to cherish and learn what our children and loved ones taught us while they were here with us. The go forward and live an extraordinary life.

Happy New Year

Until next time,

M

A heart forever broken

It’s been a while since I had my last good cry. In a sense I’ve been avoiding it because the process is overwhelming. It’s hard to sort out the good and bad memories sometimes. Having watched my daughter die makes it more difficult to bring the good memories forward.

I sat down and had a good cry then proceeded to open the box that contains some of her most favorite things. Her American Girl doll that she wanted because it looked so much like her. I remember when we made the train trip from Grand Rapids to Chicago with some other friends to spend the day shopping in Chicago and of course, tea at the American Girl Store. I kept two t-shirts that she liked to wear – one that says “fly girl” and one that she wore in her senior pictures. She was my fly girl.

Then there laid the envelope. The one marked “do not open”. I put some very private things in there and had previously stored them in a safe deposit box. Did not want anyone opening it. The contents sacred to me. In the hours after Brittany died I was helping prepare her body by removing all the tubes and wires and cleaning her up. While straightening her hair I remembered that she said after graduation she wanted to cut her hair – so I took a pair of scissors and took her hair from the pony tail on the top of her head and made a quick cut. Saying out loud “there you go honey – just as I promised”. While looking in that envelope I took out the pony tail that still remained untouched since her death and so very lightly touched it. It brought a flood of tears to my eyes because I so loved that girl.

I placed the hair back into the envelope and reached in to pull out the few pics taken by the Child Life Specialist. They were taken once Brittany was looking so peaceful with her favorite blanket from her room. She looked like an angel. I looked so longingly at her face and the many freckles she had searching hard in my memory for how she looked alive and how she hated her freckles so. Those freckles made her unique. Lastly I placed my hand over her hand, the mold that was taken of her hand after she died. Another memento to be cherished for years to come. Her hand was bigger than mine. She would have laughed at that as if to say “ha mom – I’m already bigger than you”.

You all can’t imagine how my heart breaks again and again every time I open those dear treasures. I go to a place I don’t go often for it is too painful to bear. I want to just throw something and yell and scream because I can’t keep the pain in any longer. In the movie Forest Gump he says “sometimes there are not enough rocks”. In the movie Jenny was so angry at something that had happened in the past – she threw rock after rock until she collapses on the ground. It takes a long time to move through the many stages of grief. Sometimes it feels good to remember special moments about your loved one, but sometimes you just need to get mad and throw a few rocks.

I miss Brittany more than I can ever have the words to express. It’s so very wrong that she is not here. It’s just so very wrong……

Blessings

I woke up sometime during the night thinking about what Thanksgiving was like growing up as a child and young adult. Family looked different then. The entire extended family got together each Thanksgiving and we ate together, laughed together and prayed together. I was looking through photos of Thanksgiving past and it brought such mixed emotions to the surface.

Those memories are the ones that made us who we are as adults. I never realized how truly blessed I was to have such a great family who came together and celebrated as family each year. Then one by one they began to pass on. My great-grand father, aunts, uncles, mom, grandparents and daughter. Thanksgiving has never been the same for me. While I still try to get home for Thanksgiving to see my brothers and their families – it’s different.

Now this year I’m not even going home. Just when things begin to settle for me into a pattern that I could actually look forward to since Brittany’s death – it’s changed. Life has always been like that for me – different. Never staying the same for very long. Some of it by my own choice and some not. Nevertheless I find myself searching and trying to find my way at this point in my life. The meaning, the purpose, the “why”. I’m getting a bit old for this crap. That is all I know.

A turn of events is making this Thanksgiving one that I am looking forward to because my best friend of 30 years is coming to spend a week with me. Something we have wanted to do for so long and could never get it organized. My uncle is going to make a turkey on Thanksgiving and we are going to share and enjoy with his neighbors and friends. The blessings this year are ones that are not easily seen, but strongly felt.

Simple Blessings

I am blessed that I can still breathe

I am blessed that I can still see

I am blessed that I can still laugh

I am blessed that I can still cry

I am blessed that I am alive

 

This year look at your simple blessings and try to find that while your life may be totally different than what you would have wanted or asked for, it’s the simplicity of life that makes it easier to see what is truly important.

 

Until next time,

M

Journey

Be careful not to look deeply for the things that cause sorrow for they are buried along with the memories and laughter. Only proceed if you’re willing to go the distance. The journey is a lifetime and the days can be filled with sunshine or rain. The most difficult hurdle is not knowing the difference as seen from the outside. It’s one step at a time with one foot in front of the other. The timeline is undefined and the outcome can only be measured by the love you have in your heart.

Until next time

M