A blog about my adventures as a grief warrior

Category: Good Readings (Page 2 of 4)

Suggested readings to support your grief

“How To Fix a Broken Heart” ~Guy Winch

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.

“Shattered”- by Gary Roe

If more reading was one of your New Year’s goals, pick up a copy of Gary Roe’s book, “Shattered”.

I am not sure when I read this book or if I wrote about it before.  I can’t seem to find proof of either happened. And yet, when I open this book to share, I know I have read and written about it.  So, what the universe is doing with tricking me into thinking I haven’t, led me to believe that perhaps there is something about this book that is worth repeating.

What one can expect with this book is truthful, applicable learning of a community who shares grief.  Divided into 6 categories, Gary takes the reader through each emotionally charged area with stories, facts, questions to ponder and ideas to try to support your grief.

It is worth a second read and when I reread it, I got even more out of it.  Different time, different stage, I leaned into the idea that negative thoughts and self medicating is natural, I don’t have to be brave. I empathized with the parents whose physical ailments are real but the energy to heal is not there. I heard that my anger is about the loss of so very much and most importantly, it is ok to be mad. Mad is good. Mad is about acknowledging the unfairness, the insanity of having to live without the physical presence of our child.

This book is a must read. A repeated read. Gary brings through this book, a reminder that grief is an individual journey, but we are never alone.

Thank you, Gary, for taking the courage to write on a subject that had not hit you directly. Thank you for working with and sharing with all of us, your compassion for our pain. Thank you for identifying the dark feelings our society feels should be ignored or fixed. Some things can’t be fixed. Thank you for reassuring us that we will never be the same and that is ok. Thank you for giving us hope that one day, there might be moments we will not cry in pain but rather in joy.

I don’t believe that I will ever heal, ever get over, ever get pass my loss. But I find a small comfort in the words of others who travel the same path that peace can be found. Gary’s work, and the collected stories inside his book truly support good mourning.

“How to Live When a Loved One Dies.”

I believe that I will look for ways to cope with our family’s fate for the rest of my life. Since 2018, my bookshelf has become a Chapter’s self-help aisle, courses and videos, and chat rooms, all with the same theme; how do I go on? I came across the book by Thich Nhat Hanh, a Zen teacher that Zane loved to quote, titled “How to live when a loved one dies”.  A great addition to my grief collection.

It is a book of healing meditations. Its pages are filled with a large, easy to read font and short messages that are reflective of the pain one feels with loss. Divided into four sections, each one includes wisdom, self-care practices and poetic writing to encourage thought. The first chapter is grief and sets the tone with its opening line, “Our loved ones are in us, and we are in them. When a loved one dies, a part of us also dies.”

It moves you through effective meditation exercises and walks you into the next chapter of surviving our emotions. He writes, “The past is not truly gone; it is still here, and we can touch it.”  This chapter is filled with advice on how to face the many intense emotions death brings into our hearts and offers ways to help heal.

My favorite section is the third section. It is filled with a reassurance that nothing dies, it merely transforms.  “Look deeply to see your beloved in other forms”. He illustrates how life is like a cloud. The cloud is as we see it, but then it changes.  It may become rain, or snow.  It is no longer a cloud.  But it has not died. It does not become nothing, but rather something else. He asks us to look at death in the same manner.

The final section is about connecting with life. Reinforcing through rhythmical anecdotes of how our loved ones are within us and alive through our actions, our memories, their legacy we create. He reminds us that “we do not walk alone but rather with and for our family, for our loved ones, for the whole world.”

This is a book that can be read over and over. It gently pushes one to face their grief but cultivates the necessary tools to quiet the loudness of grief. “Who can say that your loved one has passed away? When you touch your loved one in the ultimate dimension, you see that they are still with you.” Thick Nhat Hanh teaches good mourning.

A Resource for Grieving Pet Owners

A neighbor told me of his friend whose small dog got loose and darted into traffic.  He was hit by a car and his friend witnessed all of it.  Standing helplessly on the side of the road, she waited for the traffic to stop so she could run out and pick up his limp little body.  “She hasn’t been the same since”, he said.

When this happened, Tango was still alive. I bumped into her months later and asked how she was managing.  She gave credit to the book, “The Grief Recovery Handbook for Pet Loss” by Russell Friedman, Cole James, and John W. James.  She gave it to me and said, “for when the time comes.”

I read it recently, interested to see if the authors offered grieving pet owners anything different than how we grieve for our humans. The answer is mainly no.  This book was filled with ideas and stories related to what happens to you when grief arrives.  It suggests things like writing your pet a letter to honor them, keeping some of their ashes in a piece of memorial jewelry and being sensitive to outbursts of sorrow. The advice is universal, how to handle the loss of a loved one.  Whether they have two legs or four.  I think the only suggestion that seemed different from child loss was the suggestion to get another pet. I have told my family, Tango cannot be replaced, so don’t try.

After Tango passed, I saw her a few times around the neighborhood. She would have noticed that Tango was not with me each time. The last time I saw her, she smiled and said gently, “I see you lost your best friend.” I nodded and we spent a moment sharing how hard it is, how we will not get over it.  She asked if I read the book, she had given me. I said I had, and we compared notes.  She said, “we don’t forget because the pain helps us to remember. But I hope that time aids in softening the heartache.”

Tango passed away three months ago. I have yet to put away his food bowl. I sleep with his stuffed bear who now wears Tango’s collar. I can’t come into our complex without imagining him there at the front, sniffing the flowers or wagging his tail at someone crossing the street. I have yet to stop crying.  Never has a pet affected me like this before.  But then, there was never a pet quite like our man-dog, Tango. Even my husband says he can still feel Tango’s paw on his foot as he cooks his lunch.  A habit that was Tango’s way of begging.  He would place his paw on top of your foot so you would notice him.  Our dog has left a HUGE hole in our daily routine.  And an even bigger hole in my heart.

I practice the basics of grief to handle the loss of my sweet dog. I am trying to find ways to honor him. The first opportunity was answering a plea on twitter from a new animal shelter I support.  They said that they were looking for dog food for their ‘pets-giving’ dinner.  I thought it perfect that Tango would share dinner with his fellow canines. 

I promised the woman who gave me the book, I would pass it on to the next person I know who experiences the loss of their pet. The book is helpful for those who are fresh on the path of grief and filled with gentle reminders for those of us who are already living with grief.

“The First Call from Heaven” by Mitch Albom

Most often you will find me in the non-fiction section looking for different ways to manage life. I have always enjoyed the self-help section and living with grief, it becomes your go-to aisle for tips and tricks on how to survive and maybe even flourish.  So, I am not sure what led me to stray into the fiction aisle and pick up Mitch Albom’s book “The First Phone Call from Heaven”, but I did.  And I was not disappointed.

Mitch is best known for his best seller, “Tuesdays with Morrie” and his new novel has the same sentimental components of human compassion. This story, of a paranormal event in a small Michigan town has its’ residents believing that the dead are calling them from heaven.  The whole town believes it is a miracle and news of this travels bringing outsiders to visit. All except for one resident, a discredited pilot named Sully.  The story centers on Sully and why he does not believe. He sets out to prove the town wrong.

The story is about loss and unanswered questions and the anger that grief brings. Sully’s character is relatable; you feel his pain. You can understand his disbelief, your brain knows that the dead are not calling. Yet, as you read this book, you are filled with a hope that Sully is wrong.  

Mitch writes, “What do you do when the dead return?  It is the thing people most fear-yet, in some cases, most desire.” That is the key to why this book is a page turner. When you live with loss, your number one wish is to hear or hold or see your loved one again.  Just one more time. Mitch’s story is all about that and the reader gets drawn into thinking ‘what if this was possible?  Oh, God let this be possible.’

The story’s plot is one of mystery and the characters seem to come alive leaving the reader to feel that they are in this small town and witnessing this phenomenon first-hand. As one who says I don’t have time for fiction, this book is a favorite I could read again. 

I won’t provide any spoiler alerts but let’s just say that the end has a twist that leaves you sitting there, holding the book, and not wanting to close it.

“Mourning has Broken” by Erin Davis

A friend gave me a book to read to which she felt might inspire joy in me.  The story, “Mourning Has Broken” was written by Erin Davis, a mother who lost her 24-year-old daughter. Erin was a popular radio broadcaster and was in Jamaica when she received the news. Her sharing of what happened and the events that followed in her journey were so different than mine that it made for a surreal reading.

Erin’s connection to the world through her radio channel was a gift to express her pain and share with her dedicated listeners what was happening.  She had her own social media through this that I wished we all had. Her story included reflections of times as a family, with her daughter, the challenges of finding out what happened that caused her death, the sharing of how she self-medicated, and her relationship with her husband.  Her story was her own, and I appreciated her openness.  She also included a few tangents related to others that I had to reread trying to understand how this was a part of her story. 

I did relate to her reaction to an acquaintance comparing his loss of a dog six months prior to her pain of losing her only daughter. She innocently asked him if he would get another dog and he sharply replied, “Are you going to have another child?” Ouch. Proof that no one escapes dumb comments from those trying to compare grief.  Her sense of humor I enjoyed. She writes, “I bet they get another dog.”

At the end of the book, she is inspired to have a spiritual interview with her daughter related to if Erin is finding joy.  Erin admits pure joy may forever be elusive.  But she does find joy in her grandson and her work and her marriage. Simple things, that some of us don’t have; she encourages us to find our own joy.

I am appreciative to be at a point in my own journey to be able to read about such a different experience and value it for that. It inspired me to think about joy and what can I do to increase that emotion in my daily life. Erin lives in a world so different than mine and yet, we are connected through the understanding of life without your child. We are women who share the commonalities of honoring our loved one, looking for signs from them and searching for joy in this life.

“Walking Each Other Home”

Ram Dass was one of Zane’s favorite philosophers. He quoted him often. When I was at Chapter’s looking for my next book to read, I stumbled across a book titled after my favorite Ram Dass quote, “Walking Each Other Home” and I felt a warm fuzzy desire to curl up with this book and hear what more he had to say about how “we’re all just walking each other home”.

Co-written with Mirabai Bush, the book is a conversation between the two of different topics related to the dying process and how not being afraid of death would enrich our lives. It gives ideas and advice on how to be there emotionally for those we know with a terminal sentence and how to grieve completely. An interesting collection of personal experiences and philosophies that they share with the reader.

Ram Dass, born Richard Alpert, was a psychologist, writer, an American who popularized yoga and Eastern spirituality in the west.  He did so by his ability to combine the aspects of yoga and many different religions into straightforward concepts of “be here now”.  He became an expert in teaching three generations just how to do that.  

People reached out to Ram as a spiritual guide, and he shared in the book letters he wrote to families seeking his counsel. My favorite of these letters was to Steve and Anita who had lost their daughter, Rachel. His compassion for the pain that they were holding is felt in his words.

“…I can’t assuage your pain with any words, nor should I. For your pain is Rachel’s legacy to you…” He goes on to say, “…Now is the time to let your grief find expression.  No false strength. Now is the time to sit quietly and speak to Rachel, to thank her for being with you these few years and encourage her to go on with whatever her work is, knowing that you will grow in compassion and wisdom…” His letter could be to anyone of us.  As I read it, I inserted Zane’s name for Rachel’s and the letter became that much more profound.

This book is for your soul. It is filled with conversation about love and about death. And how they are intertwined. It is filled with ideals and opportunities to practice, bringing awareness and a deeper meaning to your current day. It consoles those of us in emotional pain. It is a book that quietly strengthens us by assuring us that we are all just walking each other home.

What is Your Soul Plan?

I shared with a group of friends my newer belief that we each have a soul plan that is agreed to before we are born. I’m not sure if it is God’s plan or fate or the Universe calling. Whatever you want to label it, there is a conversation we have with those we spend this life with that gives us somewhat of a predetermined plan as to which role we have and how we play that.  I told my friends that I must believe this.  If I did not believe that somehow, I had agreed to this prior and knew this was to be my life and then, also knew all was going to be ok in the end, I’d go utterly mad. This belief keeps me from jumping off the proverbial cliff.

Robert Schwartz’s book “Your Soul’s Plan” is all about this belief.  He calls it pre-birth planning.  I was excited to read what this man had to say.  He offers Spiritual Guidance Sessions and Past Life Soul Regressions to help people understand their life plan. It was interesting.  And almost far-fetched, even for me. 

Robert shares with the reader, actual cases of people who have been interviewed by himself, mediums, and channels. Each sharing centers around a particular challenge or hardship that the interviewee has battled during their life. Cases included drug addiction, abuse, disabilities, and AIDS. Each of these people interviewed, discovers the why they chose this life and the lessons that came from these choices. I could accept the mediums speaking on behalf of their loved ones, helping explain their soul plan, but the channels spoke to the person’s soul and that I know little of.  That is the part of the book that I had difficulty accepting.  How can a human being, speak to the soul of another human being? I am not saying it can’t happen.  In fact, Robert’s work and his findings suggests it is so.

The people that he interviewed, through the process he shares in his book, sought, and found healing by understanding the why they signed up for tragedy.  “When we realize it’s not personal and that it’s something we’ve chosen, then it changes our perspective.”

There were points that made me ponder or compare their struggle to my own. The interesting angle of how our life lessons are designed to bring us to the core of our true essence intrigued me the most.  We are all spiritual energy of light and love, but each life carries with it a search for something missing not yet achieved, like self-respect or empathy or boundaries.  Hmmmm….

The point Robert was making through this book is that we do have a soul plan. And that we have a collection of souls that have agreed to support us in our journey on earth. We are all in this together; connected to help one another become our genuine and loving selves. If we slow down to notice the lessons, we receive through our struggles, we can discover our true purpose. That is my favorite take away from this book.

How do we get there? How do we begin to see others as helpers in our lives and accept our struggles as experiences we had asked for.  Kindness to ourselves and to others, helps enlighten the search for life’s meaning.   On Zane’s urn we have inscribed the quote he shared wit his father during their last conversation.

“Kindness begins with the understanding that we all struggle”.

The essence, the foundation of our soul plan is that. Kindness is the main ingredient of love. If we remind ourselves that we all struggle, only then can we be able to help each other. And with that, together, we all achieve our soul plan.

“Nightfall to Daybreak” by Sally Walls

In the first few days after Zane was killed, a friend dropped off a book for me to read, “Nightfall to Daybreak”. She said she knew the family and they too had lost a son.  When I was ready, I should read the book. It was written by the mother, Sally Walls, who tells the story of how she was thrown into the grief community.  I first opened it a few months after and quickly closed it and placed it in a box.  It was unreadable. It was far too painful.

I found it when we moved to the condo and opened it up again. The crisp white pages and the large, typed font made it an easy read. The content was not as easy. Sally Walls writes about the love and loss of her 18-year-old son Davis. She writes of the anticipation of his birth and the joy of being his mother, watching him grow into a respectful young man and watching him graduate. She writes about the week after his graduation, when the police came to her door to let her know he was killed in a bicycle-vehicle fatality. She shares the anguish and despair of her journey with quotes, biblical verses, facts and beautiful comparisons of her grief to her reality.

Sally’s friend sent her a collection of beach glass. She writes, “Each broken piece has been smoothed over time by the journey it’s been on. I scoop them all into my hands and close my eyes. I run my fingers over them. I don’t hurry. There are no sharp edges. I sense that I will be able to handle the brokenness, given time. I will be able to pick up the pieces. We will put life back together again, like a mosaic.”

She writes of driving home with Davis as a small baby and avoiding a near fatal crash that sent her a clear message then. “You and your baby were spared tonight.”  She tells the story of Davis sharing with her a beloved character, Leonidas, a leader possessing extreme courage in the face of death and wondering why he would share this just weeks before his death. Were these premonitions?

This book is not for the newly grieving.  It is raw and real and hits your heart hard. Sally is one of us.  Many of her thoughts and actions echo mine. By the end of the book, I felt a comradery with this woman I knew of but had never met.  Inside the cover of my copy, my friend had her sign. Sally writes, “We are holding our hands around your brokenness.”

We are told that sharing our story, when we are able, is a responsibility. Share your story and you might help someone find their own.  “Nightfall to Daybreak” is filled with supportive messages that one or more of them you can hold unto.  Thank you, Sally.

Loss and Lessons Learned

We live with grief. Emily Graham does too.  In her book, “Confessions of Child Loss”, Emily shares with us the death of her seven-year-old son Cameron. Her story is an honest recalling of how being thrown into the community, the “Child Loss Club” changed her outlook on life.

She shares with us the dark side of what happens when grief moves in. How it numbed her emotions and had her struggle as she needed to continue being there for her two daughters. She talks about the fears of forgetting him and the questions from strangers of how many kids do you have.  What happened to your son? The grief bursts that accompany these conversations.

She speaks the universal language of the grief community and reveals how time and a desire to never say goodbye to Cameron brought her forward. She shares what wonders can come to be when we believe that they are still here. The signs, related to Cameron like the number 12 showing up in unexplainable ways; seeing synchronicities supported her change of thinking from ‘he is gone’ to ‘he is here still’.  With that belief, she began talking to her son’s spirit, playing games in the car with his energy, and looking for more signs. Which she received.  She tells us this brings a shift into your brokenness. For her, these activities inspired her to strive to be a better version of herself.  

Emily writes that grief does not end, but that from her experience, it will change.  She gives five suggestions to help you alter your grief.

  1. Redefine your grief experience.
  2. Lean into the pain.
  3. Reach acceptance…not the same as approval. We are not ok with it, but we must accept what happened.
  4. Self care is critical.
  5. Connection to our child…the relationship continues after death, talk about them, bring them forward with you.

Personally, I struggle with suggestion number 3. She is farther ahead in her journey than I am, so perhaps with further time I might get there.  Suggestion number 5 is what I found the most exciting.  It coincides with a line in her book, my favorite line, giving hope.   “You no longer have to live without them.  You can live with them in a different way.”  Here’s to that.

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