Good Mourning Grief

A blog about my adventures as a grief warrior

Month: July 2025

Keep Moving by Maggie Smith

July 27, 2025 /

My husband gifted me with a book he thought I might enjoy related to loss, creativity and change. The author, Maggie Smith, is a poet and her book was a different style from the other books on my shelf. I snuggled into what I thought would be an easy read.

Her loss was a marriage of almost nineteen years. To cope with her pain, she began each day writing a note to herself to answer the question, “What now?” And her answer inspired the last sentence of each thought, “Keep moving.” I wasn’t sure I would be able to relate to her suggestions. How could her grief compare to the loss of a child? Her first post was about the ending of one thing is the beginning of another, to not stay in the past…I realized this might not be such an easy read after all.

She has three sections to this book. Revision, resilience, transformation. Each chapter begins with her sharing an experience of hers, so you begin to get to know her story deeper. It is then followed by several poetic posts each ending with Keep Moving. Each post carries with it a reason or idea to ponder how one might better manage grief.

Some posts I debated. One of her first posts read, “Stop calling your heart broken; your heart works just fine. If you are feeling-love, anger, gratitude, grief-it is because your heart is doing its work. Let it. Keep Moving.” I believe that my heart is broken and such, I am learning to live with that. I am also in awe of how it does its work with such pain.

Some posts affirmed what every griever experiences, the resistance of transformation. She writes, “It is not your job to make other people comfortable with who you are.  Be wary of those who don’t want you to change or grow. Grow anyway-there is no alternative. Keep Moving.” Sound advice for anyone having to move forward by choice or by fate.

Other posts were profound. “Sit with your doubt, your questions, your fear of the unknown, and do your best to be comfortable with them. Remember that you have no choice; knowing everything isn’t an option. Don’t compound your anxiety by being ashamed of it. Keep Moving.”

Her address to how we feel weary, she refers to as soul hangovers to which she encourages the reader, “…Even as you carry darkness inside you, shine. Defy the darkness by shining. Keep Moving.”

And I think that is my favorite takeaway from this book, her mantra Keep Moving. With grief, often we feel as if we move forward only to fall back, again. But we get up and we keep going, we keep moving in the direction of hope. We keep moving with the memories of our loved ones. We keep moving to honor, to celebrate their love. We keep moving towards the possibility of peace, of connection. We keep moving because we must.

The Heart Continues

July 20, 2025 /

I have had high blood pressure most of my life and it has always been easy to manage with diet and natural supplements. However, since May, I have struggled, and I am now in the care of cardiologists with my weeks spent in medical offices or at home preparing for more ugly tests. 

After several exams, and the wearing of a heart monitor for a 24-hour period, the tests are inconclusive. What was found is that there is a spike in heart activity in the moments where my heart should be resting which seem abnormal. Especially around three in the morning. More tests have been scheduled.

Since 2018 I have woken early each morning around three. The time Zane was killed. Sometimes I fall back to sleep but often I lay awake. I have gotten used to this routine, never thinking how hard on my heart it might be.  It has become an odd routine from the day-time reality. I have accepted that I will wake, I will remember, I will feel a pain in my chest. So, when I do, I whisper into the night, “hello, who is here to chat with me” Someone is always there. It is my red thread to the other realm.

The red thread or red string of fate is seen as both a physical and spiritual entity, the nature of human relationships that are tangible and deeply rooted in the metaphysical. Original folklore stated the red string was about meeting the person you were to marry. Over time, it has morphed into something deeper, related to all connections of the heart. Simply, the red string ties you to those you share destiny with. It goes beyond time and space. It is meant to be a reminder to reflect on relationships with mindfulness and gratitude.

Our heart hurts when we experience grief. It is bound to shake up the electrical wiring of our being. We are told that grief brings with it complicated emotional and physical symptoms. Why then would it be so unusual for my heart to become abnormal, living with such loss.

Grief warriors are taught that pain inside the heart can be a loved one reaching out to you. A physical tug to say, “I’m still here”. I like to believe that Zane pulls on that string. Letting me know that I have not lost him. He is still with me, connected by the abstract idea that the red string cannot be broken.

As my doctors continue attempting to pinpoint a cause for my heart’s tribulations, I wonder if they could diagnose the effects of long-term grief. Of grief so heavy that the heart screams with each beat, “I miss you”. A heart that continues, although shattered by so much sadness. Maybe the question should be, how long does the heart go on before it starts to show the wear and tear of its brokenness. Apparently, for me, it is coming up seven years.

Loss Through Divorce and Death

July 13, 2025 /

It is hard to sit next to a loved one and watch them continue to make decisions that will extend or accentuate their state of sadness. One of our own has been trying for over a year to ‘save’ their relationship.  Although, to all of us it seems very one-sided, I find patience in the fact that to the truth, there are always three sides.  Then, recently I overheard a conversation of someone we don’t know, which made me think about the correlation between death and divorce and the role of loss.

A couple was arguing of his whereabouts. I heard him defend himself, explaining in detail where he had been and what had happened.  It seemed simple. His lack of patience and tone increased as her refusal to accept his explanation continued. Screaming ensued and she left. I don’t know the full story, I do know neither were happy. 

Relationships should end when there is abuse or reconciliation is impossible. It’s when do you say enough and go your separate ways. That is the tricky part. Relationships are hard. There should be a gallant effort to save the love that once was, that might still be there. But when, at the end of the day, there is a divorce, that is where loss steps in. And grief soon to follow.

Some of the books I have read, the author shares their story of loss through divorce. It contains all the aspects of grief; the emotions, the struggle to accept this change, the emptiness of reality, the search for identity of who they are now. If the heavy pain of loss becomes too much in this scenario, there is an urgency to get the relationship back. Regardless of the notion that together might not be better, for one or both.

With death, they are not coming back in physical form. The only option here is we must learn to live with grief. As I pondered this detail, the obvious difference between the two types of losses, I realized how important the mantra, “loss is loss” truly is. There is a different strength required to let go of something that has died but that still lives elsewhere. I believe that it has its own unique bag of questions, challenges and heartaches.

I’m not comparing the two. Not in the least. I am only suggesting that it is important to recognize the loss, more so than how it came to be. My loved one, as they struggle with an unwanted breakup, is focused on how to fix this, hoping for reconciliation. The use of energy is spent working out the odds of maybe. It is an option, rather than selecting loss. When sitting still, my loved one can admit this. Their brain comprehends ending this relationship is for the best. It is the heart that is unaccepting.

True loss is something is gone, regardless of why. With death, loss is very clear. Grief arrives with it. With divorce, loss is misconstrued, accompanied with necessary decisions that make it messy. It is only when loss stands alone with no other options that grief arrives in its entirety.

What is needed, with any loss, is to focus on the exquisiteness of the love that was once and shape this into something beautiful to carry in the heart, honoring the memories and the impact of the time shared. That may not be simple. But it is all that we can do. That we should do.  Because loss, no matter how it arrives, stays with us forever.

When Purpose Must Change

July 6, 2025 /

The art of finding your way, your purpose, who you want to be when you grow up is often lost in the day-to-day busyness of life. Major events are the catalyst of bringing us back to the attention of what am I doing here. Most often it is a milestone birthday, an achieved goal like graduation, a proposal or retirement. And for mothers, often, it is the birth of their child.

I was visiting a friend of my nephew’s, who has recently had a baby. She was telling me that she had an epiphany in the hospital as her partner wheeled her to NICU to see their son. She told me, “I am thinking that I am a mom now. I can’t just be. I have to save the world or something.  For him.” I smiled, her sweet baby nestled in my arms, his big eyes looking straight into my soul. “Yes, motherhood does that to you”, I said. She went on to tell me about how she has gone back to school and her plans for a business degree. I am so proud of her.

Motherhood is a purpose. It is the driving energy behind a lot of movements. The maternal, mother bear instinct to protect and to nurture. To be better, make better, live better. And when you lose a child, that huge purpose in your life feels like it too died. Who am I now?

It is perhaps the reason why, with grief, there is a shift in our attitudes.  At first, we are strangers with ourselves, not wanting any difference from before. Slowly, we begin to realize that the choice is not to stay the same.  It is not possible, it can’t be. This acceptance gives us the freedom to seek out what our new purpose may be. It gives us permission to take our time to ponder who am I with this life on earth and my child in spirit. What now is my purpose. 

Death is the mother of major events that stop us in our tracks to review who we are. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross once said, “…you will never be the same. Nor should you be the same, nor would you want to”. Death insists on us finding a new or altered purpose from the one we had before. It’s another piece of grief work to do which takes energy and time. It is an exploration of what it is now to be, with you as the sole explorer of this new journey. Who do you want on your path, who will walk and sit beside you. Who will you become. It is scary, but it can also be liberating.

I believe that purpose is born out of love for something or someone. Such that, when grief enters, it shakes up the purpose, it makes you redesign your purpose, but it doesn’t take it away. Our purpose is shifted. It might be shifted to bring justice for our loved one’s death, or an awareness to others. It might be shifted to others needing you. It might be shifted to a past calling or a reconnection to the person or life you had once imagined. Purpose, like love, does not die. It just changes energy.

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