Good Mourning Grief

A blog about my adventures as a grief warrior

Month: February 2024

The Lesson of Repeated Loss

February 25, 2024 /

I don’t think God got my message. After our family endured so many deaths last year, I thought he and I had an understanding that we would get a bit of a break this year. However, we lost another two members last month and two more this month.  It reminds me of a meme Zane posted, “I know that everything happens for a reason, but WTF?”

Del was a colleague of my mothers. I grew up with him. He was a true family friend that coaxed my mother to let her hair down and have some fun. He had a love for life, a faith in God and a laugh that was contagious.  You could not hear Del laugh without joining in. His kind, inspiring manner brought the best out of everyone who sat next to him. Yes, he had a full life and his celebration service confirmed that through the stories shared. He will always be with us.  We just have to close our eyes and hear his laugh. As his friend said at the funeral, if you do this, you will open your eyes smiling.  He was 88 years young.

Our other loss does not carry with it such a happy tone. My girlfriend lost her husband, her companion of 37 years. It was an intense battle with cancer that not only took him but abruptly ended the ongoing retirement plans they made together. They had moved to BC from Calgary years back and so our monthly breakfasts to compare notes on raising two teenagers each were shortened to letters, email, and the annual visit when she would come out. In no way does that reduce the importance of our friendship, in fact it alters it as time together was not something we could take for granted. I so enjoyed her smile, her soft voice telling me about her latest adventure with her beloved. The plans for their next trip, the travels to see their children and hang out with the dogs. Her life centered around this man, her partner in all senses of the definition. Grief has arrived at her door and brings with it the comfort of shock and denial that this is happening. My heart aches for her.  There is nothing to be said.

We have reached the stage of life where we can expect more funerals than weddings of our friends. To know this, doesn’t make it easier to say goodbye. But what I was reminded of these past months, is that there are four friends who I spoke to suggesting that we ‘get together soon’ and failed to do so. I’m not beating myself up about this.  Life is busy for all of us. Foolishly, we always think there will be more time. This year, the message seems to repeat itself. We don’t know when the time will run out. Do not put off to tomorrow, what matters today.

When loss, of any size, is experienced, the body goes through physical, emotional, and mental stress to which we need time to slow down, grieve, and heal. I am not sure how we do this when the hits keep coming. Maybe it is a good practice in accepting that death is a part of life and if we fully feel this way, perhaps then the loss could be condensed to, we are truly sad but not devastated. If death is a part of life, then we continue to be with our loved ones, in a different but still meaningful fashion.  I think this is a lesson our clan is presented with to which we continue to learn.

The Proof, Written In the Cards

February 18, 2024 /

The hectic, never-ending list to do caught up to me this week and I landed in bed with a cold. I’m not sure if it was that my daughter had it first and I looked after her or that it seems EVERY time my husband goes on a holiday, I get sick. Whatever the reason, I took it as a Universal sign to unplug. Well, not so much a sign, I had no choice. Remaining vertical caused my sinuses to explode so I stayed on my back and went through a box of cards my friends had left behind when they died.

“The sweeties” were the classic love story with a twist. I wrote about them before, and their chosen way to leave earth. It will be a year next month since they departed. The box of cards and pictures was one of the last things I had promised to take care of for them. How to disperse of their treasured memories in a way that honors them. It has been no easy task. They had bins of photo albums of trips and family events and childhood gatherings. We kept a lot. I gave some pictures of their golf buddies to the course they loved and belonged to for years. We mailed some to friends and a bunch to her sister. It was the large box of greeting cards that surprised me how hard they would be to dispose of. I read each one. Birthday cards from friends, get well cards and thinking of you cards but most of the cards were from each other. Every Valentine Day, Anniversary and Christmas card was kept. And each one had the same message. Eternal love.

This couple, with all the trials of combined families and complicated health scares, truly loved each other. Forever. I mean they died together. Reading the cards reminded me of that love. The partnership they held tighter than anything else in their lives. They were soul mates. His signature on every card was “Love your DA” with a heart and kisses drawn. In the early years, the signature and the drawing were clear and as time went on, the signature was messier and the heart not so clear. Still, one can see, his heart was always for her. Her signature, on every card was “Love always, your sweetie.”  There was no mistake, they belonged to each other.

I have had mixed feelings about how they left, when they left; the time leading up to their departure was not as ideal as any of us would have liked. This made grief come with mixed emotions, like anger and worry if we did enough or could have done things differently.  Alas, there is no options for a repeat, so we continue to grieve while we attempt to answer these questions. The truth is that it was as it was to be. The cards proved that.

In the end, I have two great friends that faced life together, always together, always ‘yours’ and they left here the same way. ‘FOREVER YOURS’. How can I be anything but happy for them? And I am. When I look past the anguish of not having my ‘sweeties’ here to share a glass of wine with me, or to hear their laugh, or hear her tell me, “Love you, love you, love you” …. I just need to remember that I witnessed, a one-of-a-kind love between them. Like all loves, it did not come without its’ bumps and bruises, but the cards reminded me, at the end of the day, they always chose each other.

“How To Fix a Broken Heart” ~Guy Winch

February 11, 2024 /

In honor of upcoming Valentine’s Day, which is also ‘give-a-book-day’, I wanted to share my thoughts on the latest book I read. “How to Fix a Broken Heart” by Guy Winch is a book for those who have suffered from heartbreak. The compassionate psychologist shares the wisdom he has obtained through his practice of the many patients who have come to him to help heal their broken heart and move on.

I found myself nodding in agreement to Guy’s insight of how a physical break (like a broken arm) brings with it sympathy from others and leniency whereas a broken heart does not. The pain of a broken heart is not seen except through tears and sadness to which society endures such feelings for but a short time before we are expected to move on. But heartbreak does affect us physically.

In chapter two, Guy brings to light that our body and mind are broken when the heart has been crushed. In fact, a case study of volunteers undergoing MRIs to scan and record brain activity shows that heartbreak, in the brain, has the same results as unbearable physical pain. He continues, warning us of the actions we partake with heartbreak including fixating on pictures and social media posts, outbursts of anger and irrational actions deter us from healing.

Guy’s remedy for healing includes our culture to better understand, accept and care for those grieving. All true. What I found challenging with his suggestions is that there will some day be a morning where, if all things practiced, I do wake up and am able to move on, leaving the heartbreak behind.  This goes against everything else I have been learning, related to finding ways to move forward, not on, with heartbreak. And maybe that simple little word on is where I am stuck.

When living with eternal grief, the idea of one day moving on from it complicates our healing by alluding that we should and if we don’t, can’t or won’t, there is something wrong. It brings guilt. We are expected to move on and here is a man who is agreeing with our pain and the lack of notice society gives it but then is telling us, here are the steps to do just that.  Move on. I have chosen never to move on, so the advice becomes mute. To move on would in some way mean that I am leaving Zane behind.  Not happening. So, I finish reading this book with a slight bit of apathy. This book does pertain to heartbreak.  Just not the type of heartbreak that losing a child carries with it.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the advice and I did realize, looking through the book a second time, that Guy did not suggest the loss of a child is the same as the loss of a pet or a romantic break up.  Although we have learned that loss is loss, so that confuses me too. The loss of Zane I will never get over.  And frankly, I don’t want to. The loss of Tango is fresh, and I feel I will never get over him. Guy suggests, just by the title of his book, I can. So, at the end of the day, I guess what I have decided is that the caring psychologist has captured heartbreak and its effect on those living with it quite well. And has some wonderful ways to help keep grief in check. And his advice is brilliant if one is suffering a bad romantic break up.  It is worth reading. Having said that, I look forward to any possible sequel that supports living an eternity with a broken heart. We move forward with grief; we don’t move on.

I See You Beside Us

February 4, 2024 /

The annual staff party was a highlight of Zane’s. It started with pre-drinks at his friend’s house to which the boss and another friend joined.  They would laugh, play video games, and ‘prepare’ for the night ahead. I would drive him over and knew it would be a late-night cab ride home for him. He loved it. The tradition continues and Zane still attends in spirit.

As the favorite video game was played, his boss, yelled out, “here’s the part that I move in and beat Zane.  Every time”. He laughs as the game cheers his victory. A toast follows. When I was told this, I could just see them all gathered around the TV, chanting each other on. Including Zane. This is the same group that has adopted the Jameson shot (to be had at every gathering) in honor of their buddy. It has been five years since my son was physically with them and yet, their celebrating him through memories, shared stories, and chatter as if he was here, really brings him here.

In our family, talking about our loved ones who have passed, as if they are still present, is common. We have relatives who have never met my husband’s mother but talk of her as if they had a lifetime with her. I never met her, but I know she and I are friends. I can hear her laugh as she pulls out her next room temperature beer from the carton on the floor. She was golden. She is golden.

Our clan includes family that are here and from across the realm in our daily living. They will forever be family. We celebrate their birthdays with all their favorites, and we speak to them, aloud or through prayer, for guidance.  This is the power of storytelling. Of remembering. Of saying their names.  We know they are the stars above us that are watching out for us. Still. 

My heart is happy that Zane’s boss and his co-workers include him. Through their continued actions, their love of their friend, a culture of respect and inclusion has formed. The idea that Zane is not physically with them is subliminal to the joy he brought and still brings. My son is very lucky to have comrades that refuse to let death separate them.

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