Good Mourning Grief

A blog about my adventures as a grief warrior

Month: January 2025

Living in The Color of Green

January 26, 2025 / / 1 Comment

By each January, our family chooses one word they will use as their annual mantra. It aligns with where one hopes to go or feel with the opportunity of a fresh calendar year.  The word is an individual word resulting from a reflection of the past times where one thinks of all that was good.  And all that wasn’t so good. Of what one would like to change, or drop, or learn. It is an exercise that takes time and quiet to ponder the current path and possible directions one might go. The word chosen is symbolic of all those thoughts.

As a child, I used to have a superstition around how you felt and what you did on the eve of a new year, would be the overall feel to the next year. I dropped that superstition a long time ago and replaced it with a vision of what I want/need and a plan to achieve.  All wrapped up in one word. This year my word is green.

It is about health. “Eat your greens”-I need more of that. I need more ways to be healthier for me and for those I care for. The word green brings with it a connotation that going back to my granola roots would be beneficial to my aging body.

It represents money, the realization that the desire for more to do more keeps us unbalanced. Sending a message to the Universe that I am open to ‘more green’ only means that I am open to new possibilities that align with what makes me feel secure and fulfilled. At work and at home. 

Green is about energy. Good energy. It is the color of the fourth chakra, the heart. This chakra is about giving and receiving love for others and for oneself.  I think a little self-love is something I want to practice more of.  What would that even look like?

My family thinks it is interesting to have chosen a color, rather than a verb. I chose this word partly because it doesn’t dictate action. Although it could. It is soft and simple.  It is flexible. It is inviting. It conjures up in my mind, sunny days, tree-filled parks, and a bounty of life. Warmer (and perhaps happier) times.

Green symbolizes what I wish to pursue.  More time with nature. New growth, greater hope and a solid balance. And the color provides a little bit of luck to help me along the way. 

The Little White Pill

January 19, 2025 /

I’m getting to know the new Arthur Child Cancer Care Centre at Foothills Hospital. It is a beautiful, new $50 million dollar complex that caters to the research, treatment and support of those diagnosed with cancer of any kind. I am learning that once diagnosed with cancer, one begins a battle that is life-long.

I got lucky, if there is such a thing with cancer. We caught it in its early stages. I chose a double mastectomy to ensure it would not come back. I took genetic testing to see if I had other possible cancers in my DNA. I took the oncotype test to determine if traditional chemo or radiation would help prolong my life. It wouldn’t so I didn’t have to go through that. All I needed was to swallow a little white pill for five years to ensure that my body wouldn’t make any more cancer-causing estrogen. But when I couldn’t get out of bed because of vertigo, and my body contorted into painful muscle tightening shapes and leaving the house was a risk unless I carried a plastic bag with me…I said stop.

Cancer is the unknown. It’s life threatening and when one has been given a diagnosis, it is difficult to think clearly. It is difficult to think at all. Treatment would be straight forward to blindly follow the advice of the experts. If only I wasn’t inquisitive. No one can seem to fully answer why five years. Even the experts have varying opinions. Some say five, some say ten, some say forever if it doesn’t seem to bother you. What happens after the five years? That is a varied answer too. “We can’t say”. What about testing in between now and then? “That’s different with every patient.” And what I learned and experienced about the side effects, is that they include hot flashes, headaches, bone loss, muscle pain and sometimes ovarian cancer! How is this part of a stay healthy regime? It baffles me.

It was at my recent physical that I shared I had quit my medication and was finally starting to feel normal. Two days later, the oncologist called and asked me to come in. “We are wanting you to try a different drug”, the young doctor smiled. Why? I asked. “Because we believe this is your best chance to live another ten years.”

Fear is the reason this pill becomes necessary. I don’t want to die. I have a lot to do before I travel off to the next realm. As I sat listening to her talk of the new plan and this pill and how we will be more vigilant with any side effects, fear had me agree to try again. I don’t know what this pill will do. It isn’t a promise I will be safe from cancer returning. It is more of a weak insurance policy. Yet, it is the only answer the experts have for me.

As I left the Cancer Centre with my new prescription in hand, I walked through the halls where other patients were travelling to their appointments. I am one of thousands battling cancer. Some of us are just becoming aware of the battle to be. Some of us are amid the battle. Some, like me, are battling to ensure it does not return. Wherever one is in the battle, it is a battle. It is so much like grief. It includes fear, sadness, hope and determination. It is exhausting. And like grief, it includes faith. Faith that I have the strength needed to travel the path I have been given.

A Letter to The Friends of The Grieving

January 12, 2025 /

At a social event, our friend who was just diagnosed with a brain tumor, had a person come up to him to acknowledge they knew of his condition. This person shared a story with our friend of their experience with a family member, also diagnosed with a brain tumor. It was a grave and pessimistic story that ended with she died. Our friend stood there, soaking in what he had just heard in absolute disbelief. Then, he pulled himself together and went up to this person and told them that this is not what anyone with cancer (of any kind) needs to hear.  He concluded saying, “don’t tell that story to anybody else ever again.”

When our friend told us about this, we laughed. Good on him to have the courage to reflect and then act, replying with a direct WTF! STOP. YOU ARE NOT HELPING. We laughed because it’s how we would all like to react. The truth is, whether it is the loss of a loved one or a terminal diagnosis or a major life challenge given to us, grief arrives. And we are learning how to handle that. Yet, we have all experienced some well-meaning person give advice, share a story or give comments that leave us dumbfounded of how utterly far they are from truly understanding our reality. And in our grief circles we talk about this.

We also talk about the why such might have been said.  We know it comes from the heart.  We understand that this person means no harm. They are trying to relate to our unrelatable. I have said many times, it is us, the grief warriors, that need to educate those trying to support us. If I could hand out a letter to folks, when I began my grief journey, it might have looked like this:

Hello,

I am grieving and you are aware of that. I know you wish to help. In my confusion of what I am living with, it is difficult for me to know exactly how you could do that. So be patient with me.

Recognize my grief. Acknowledge you are aware of what I am living with. A simple, silent hug is usually best. Or tell me, “I’m sorry. I’m here for you.” Please don’t continue with how my loved one is in a better place or this is God’s plan for me.

Converse with me. I don’t want to be the elephant in the room to which everyone scurries to another place in discomfort. Smile at me. I am dealing with grief; I can still be capable of some social interaction.

Ask me not “how are you feeling” but rather “how are you coping” or how is your grief today”. Each day will be different for me, and I don’t want to feel like I need to say I’m ok when I’m not. If my reply is negative, I’m not asking for ideas to fix it. I’m asking for understanding. Reassurance that you are here if I need anything will comfort me.

I may want to talk about it. And all I want you to do is listen. I don’t want to hear comparative stories. I want you to just sit with my pain.  To be comfortable with my tears.

If my grief is loss, I want you to talk about my loved one. Say their name. Don’t be afraid to upset me. I am already, will always be upset they are no longer living on earth. Hearing their name, sharing a memory about them lights up my day in a bitter-sweet way that I treasure.

Never judge where I should be in my grief. My grief is here to stay. My brain is learning how to accept my new reality. My heart is learning how to beat around this massive hole it has.  Time does not exist within these lessons.  

I am not my old self; I am becoming someone new. That is the uneasy and difficult part of grief. You and I wish that I could be the same, but that is not to be. My soul is learning of who I will become with this grief. You too must be strong and accepting of the new path to which I have been forced to travel.

21 Days to Jump-Start Your Intuition by Sonia Choquette

January 5, 2025 /

With my quest to connect to the other side of the realm, one of the shining stars to help with this is Sonia Choquette.  Her book, “21 Days to Jump-Start Your Intuition” was my compass. Sonia is an author, spiritual teacher and intuitive guide. Her soft-spoken ideologies I have gathered in courses, social media and written word and she always leaves you feeling empowered.

Her book is broken down into weekly chapters with each day focusing on a specific concept to turn on this superpower we all have. She shares stories, both personal and those of her clients, and an exercise to practice strengthening the concept presented.

The first weeks are about understanding intuition.  The exercises are geared to overcoming the doubts as to why one might be skeptical of a gut feeling. Then she gives suggestions on how to strengthen it; the importance of staying grounded and meditation.  All this helps open our minds to accepting that following our intuition connects us to our soul’s message.

Her “name it, claim it” chapter is about expressing the vibes we always get, like a shiver down your spine. The activity is to label these feelings and be more aware of them. For example, her family has a term “zipper up”. She writes, “…zipping up, which is a way of protecting yourself from unwanted influences, like zipping up your tent to keep out a hungry bear.”  When in a situation of such, to name it, “zipper up”, reinforces action on your part to not get caught up in whatever is happening.

Her book teaches us that following your intuition will alter you, making you feel and/or appear changed.  She encourages us to ‘dare to be different’ and speak up about what you are feeling. I think this is a good practice for one’s self esteem and confidence and the fact that it also opens your heart to hear our children is the ultimate bonus.

In the final week, the days are about the finishing touches to jump-starting your intuition. Walking and talking to your God or Angels, opens the communication realm. Laughing to raise your vibration is mandatory. And recognizing when ego is taking over is key.  Sonia writes, “…intuitive people recognize themselves as more than only ego.  They know themselves as spiritual beings in a loving, unlimited, and supportive Universe.” And when we become “Divine Detectives”, we find the answers to which we seek.

This is the book I share with anyone who asks how I can connect to my loved ones better. This easy read makes it possible to do just that. Following your intuition does make for a more meaningful experience here on Earth as our intuition aligns with our soul. And our souls, as we know, are forever connected to the Universe where our children live.

© 2025 Good Mourning Grief

Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑