Good Mourning Grief

A blog about my adventures as a grief warrior

Month: September 2021

“Bearing the Unbearable” by Joanne Cacciatore, PhD

September 26, 2021 /

The beautiful Dr. Joanne Cacciatore is, among many things, a bereaved mother. Her book “Bearing the Unbearable” is a collection of shared grief of many mourners who walk the path of loss. Through these shared stories, we connect and find hope and understanding to support our own grief.

She speaks of the necessity of contraction and expansion; taking time for inward healing and thus giving us the energy to lean outwards for support. We must surrender to this pain, fighting it will only increase our sadness, surrendering to the tidal wave of emotion, will help soften our grief.

My favorite lesson is that of the necessity to own our pain.  She writes, “Turning toward the shattered pieces of ourselves, choosing to stand in the pain, is a serious responsibility.  When we remember our beloved dead, we bridge the gap of space and time between us and them and bring them back into the whole of our reality.”

She assures us that remembering our loved ones is what we need to do, quoting Soren Kierkegaard; “…remembering our dead epitomizes the most unselfish, freest, and most faithful type of love-a love willing to suffer for itself, so that it can continue to exist.” She speaks of how we might do this by paying it forward with a donation or act of kindness in honor of our loved one.

She believes that grief transforms from the individual into the collective and that it is us, the bereaved who can heal our world.  I have always said we are in this together, long before my life was torn apart. I have this personality glitch that I am ok only when everyone else is ok. As a mother and a caregiver all my life, Dr. Cacciatore is telling me, I now belong to a community that can heal our world. The irony of this amuses me. I live to help heal my little corner of the world and the fact that what has happened to me with Zane gives me more responsibility and entitlement to continue doing what I felt my purpose was.  I don’t want this. And yet, here it is, the Universe has sealed my purpose. Today it scares me.  Tomorrow, it will surely encourage me. My grief can be my fuel.

As women, our ‘mama bear’ is in our DNA and death does not kill that. There is a lot of healing to do. Whatever the reason that brought you into this hell, maybe there is opportunity to help heal that area on a scale bigger than you.  First, we must learn how to live with our grief. This will help heal ourselves, and perhaps then we can find the energy to heal our world.

Sitting Quietly With Pain

September 19, 2021 /

Lately I feel like I am not heard.  I have opinions that when trying to share, I’m cut off or eyes roll, or phones are looked at.  I’m not sure if it is because my opinion is not the same or they don’t care, or they are just indifferent.  Whatever it is, I feel frustrated and more alone.

In grief, this is a common irritation.  We have the right to feel and express outwardly our grief.   Yet often we are cut off or appeased or hushed by well-meaning listeners.  Of course, their intention is with love, and they believe they are helping shield us from the pain no one wants to feel. The truth is it is a lot easier for one to respond in this manner than doing what is really required.  To sit quietly with us in our pain.

I believe I am more sensitive to the lack of ‘hear me out’ now that I live with grief. If others were to sit, quietly listening to my opinion, my raw feelings of the moment, I believe I would experience gratitude rather than disappointment.   Interrupting one with advice and dictation of what should be said, done or felt, discounts how a person feels. This cycle of being silenced makes grief become louder.

When grief is not heard by others, it is disturbing.  When your grief is not heard by yourself, it is damaging. Our grief wants to be heard.  All parts of it; the intense, raw, ugly side of reality as well as the gentle loving side of memories.  When we give our grief the respect of sitting quietly with it, not interrupting it, letting it have its say, we become more in tune with who we are and what we need to live with this sadness.

I will take this awareness and give my own grief the same respect as I wish from others.  I will sit quietly with my pain.

Surrendering to Change

September 12, 2021 /

In my first year of grief, my therapist was trying to explain to me what the milestones of grieving are.  Apparently, some moms find their inner voice when a death happens.  Usually around the 1.5-year mark.  They become less tolerant, practice self-care more, speak their opinion and most importantly, know their truth. They become more assertive with a “this is who I am, take it or leave it” attitude. I had forgotten this.

Consumed with grief, I feel like I’m just trying to get through each day. But for about a year now, I have been experiencing less tolerance with those around me.  I have insisted on me time. I am asking, who is this person as I shout out another opinion that I wouldn’t have shared before. I was blaming the ugly nature of our current times.  Which I am sure has contributed to these feelings.  But it has not created them.  Grief has.

When our child dies, we do too.  We are left in shock and pain, changing us into something different.  We can never be the same.  We can’t because nothing will ever be the same again. This unbearable knowledge we can try to deny or resist but change will happen.  Death changes us. How it does, we have some control over.

When we realize that we can still have a (different) relationship with our loved one if we ‘vibrate’ higher, self-care becomes mandatory. When our energy focuses on healing, we become intolerant of irrelevant things that distract us. When we have experienced such injustice, like the death of a child, keeping quiet becomes a very hard thing to do.

If we know that grief changes us, if we can feel the change stirring within ourselves, then perhaps how we change, who we change into could be the focus. Surrendering to change does not mean we lose connection with our child or what we hold dear. No, surrendering to change empowers us to explore how we can connect more, deeper. It gives us a cleansing of what wasn’t working to leave room for what might work. It can be inspirational rather than depressing or frightening.

Who do we want to become to honor our children, to respect ourselves and to impact our community?  Let these questions motivate you to trying new things and exploring new ways to be you. Let the strength you carry be the catalyst. Let these discoveries bring with it hope. And let the changes show the world the eternal love you have for your child.

When Angels Cross Your Path

September 5, 2021 /

As grievers, we are taught to be open to the idea that our loved ones will send us signs that they are near.  We are taught that there are guardian angels that will guide us. If only we believe. I choose to believe.  I can’t imagine not wanting to receive messages from your loved ones. I am wide open to any possibility, any venue of achieving this.

I hear stories every day of fellow grief warriors who have received signs and what form they came in. Rainbows, butterflies, rocks, birds, feathers, license plates, social media posts…these heavenly messages comfort and soothe our broken hearts.  Often, one can connect the sign to a request that had been asked of the Universe to provide.  I have such a story.

When I am over scheduled I feel a loss of connection to Zane. So, I try to practice work-life balance every day. In a morning meditation, I asked my spirit guide how I can reach him better, more often, deeper. Later that morning, as Jon and I walked the dog in the meadow, we watched afar as a person was walking on the same path toward us. The sunlight from behind us illuminated her, she looked like an angel.  We both commented on how beautiful and serene she appeared. As she got closer, we noticed that she had taken off her runners and was walking barefoot along the path. I said to Jon, “Oh, she is on a meditation walk.”  (I had just read about how walking barefoot increases mindfulness.)  We noticed that the ‘wings’ was a large bunch of wild foliage that she had picked and stuffed in a backpack she was wearing.  She carried a smaller bunch in her hands.

As she approached us, she commented on how cute our dog was (that happens a lot, he is cute!) and Jon told her how we both felt she looked like an angel coming down the path.  She bowed her head and said, “you see that because I am finally united.  You understand me, right?” And I did. In that split second, I knew that she had, some time ago, a near death experience and was now enlightened and quite spiritual.  I don’t know how, but I knew. So, I said yes. Jon asked for clarification.

She said it was a long story and proceeded to tell us of how she had been in China and went outside to answer a call and was hit and in a coma and came back to Canada with a brain injury that has taken her over a decade to heal. But that it had healed and that her journey had opened so many new things and that her energy, her vibration level was so very acute.

Then she turned to me and said, “I see your energy.  You are on the right path. You need to just feel, be more and focus less. You understand, right?” Again, I did. Somehow, she was the answer to my meditation.  I felt my sweet son, who knows I have gone to this field for hope and guidance for so many years; I felt him come across our path in the form of a small Asian angel.

The whole thing had so many serendipities to it that a flood of spiritual connection came to me, and the tears came, and she bowed her head and opened her arms to me, and I hugged her, the smell like eucalyptus circling me.  I whispered, “thank you, I love you” and she said, “I know, you know, I can feel your energy”. 

She continued, barefoot, along the path into the sun.  I walked the other way, tears streaming down my face.  What had just happened? I didn’t make this up.  This happened.  Jon witnessed it. My body felt like it was in shock. Surreal. There was not a single doubt that her message was from Zane. A direct call.

I believe that communication between the realms exists. I believe our loved ones want to and DO connect with us. And this connection is a gift, a heavenly gift we receive from angels who cross our paths.

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