Healing from grief
Getting It All Together When You Find Yourself Alone
Saturday, June 26th, 2010 | Books on grief, Death of a loved one, Grieving, Healing after Loss, Healing from grief, Help for Widows, Losing a Spouse, Losing a loved one, Loss of a loved one, Overcoming Disappointment, Personal Care while Grieving, Sudden loss | No Comments
Help Is All Around Us
Friday, June 18th, 2010 | Building Self-Confidence, Healing after Loss, Healing from grief, Help for Widows, Moving On, Principles of Wealth, The Power of a Positive Outlook | No Comments
“Open your spiritual eyes to the help all around you.”
I had just called in, a few moments late, to a seminar hosted by Heather Madder, and those were the first words I heard her speak. I immediately felt a confirmation that what she was saying was true – that I am not alone, but that there are unseen forces at work helping me.
I am studying to learn about the Internet and how to more effectively market my book and coaching services. I sometimes have thoughts that I am alone, and that it is too difficult, and that I cannot do it. Yet Heather says, “The whole universe exists to support what you want to build,” and tells us that we need to have a clear intention and belief that the answers and help we need will come quickly and easily, and that doors will open to pave our way.
Another thought I have frequently is, “I don’t have time to do all I need to.” Heather teaches that we are constantly scripting our own limitations, and that we need to be aware of thoughts like that, which become ‘programs’ we may be creating in our own lives that are holding us back.
We can change those scripts! I decided tonight as I listened to Heather that my old way of thinking and system of beliefs is not serving me! I am going to take her advice and open my spiritual eyes to the help all around me. I will envision, as she suggested, people all around the world, sitting at computers, making connections to help pave the way for my success. She also suggested there are spiritual beings ready to help us as we request that help.
I believe that. I love the promise in the scriptures:
“I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up.”*
We are not alone!
I believe each of us has something to give to the world. Longfellow said,
“Time is with materials filled;
Our todays and yesterdays
Are the blocks with which we build.”
If we are to build something worthwhile to share with the world, we need to spend our time creating it – and we will need help. And I believe, with Heather, that it is there.
Open your spiritual eyes – and believe – and keep building!
*Doctrine and Covenants 84:88
In Loving Memory . . .
Wednesday, May 26th, 2010 | Death of a loved one, Family, Grieving, Grieving during the Holidays, Healing after Loss, Healing from grief, Help for Widows, Losing a Spouse, Losing a loved one, Losing a parent, Loss of a loved one, Service, The Healing Power of Service, Unshaken Faith in Trials | No Comments
What will Memorial Day be like for you this year?
I know it will be very tender for me. Mom’s funeral was just last week, and I am still in that cocoon of early grief that I am not ready to emerge from. I find that it surrounds me with sweet memories, allows me frequent tears, and insulates me from feeling guilt for not being fully engaged in ‘regular life’ just yet.
I have heard people say this weekend is a depressing one for them. Too many memories, too many reminders that their loved one is no longer at their side. I can understand.
However, I have an invitation to extend. To bring a sweet moment to your weekend, rather than allowing your mourning to take over for the entire weekend, choose a time to find one way to honor your loved one.
It is one way for their influence to live on. If, because of our loved one, we are out in the world doing good in their memory, the world is still a better place because they lived.
Paul, instructing the saints in Galatia how to find their greatest happiness and peace offered the following counsel: “…by love serve one another.” We can do the same. Make a difference for someone else – create a bright spot in someone’s day; place a call to someone you know needs a lift; contact a humanitarian center and volunteer a couple of hours; deliver a handful of flowers to someone who is down. Your service can be done anonymously, or out in the open – you choose.
And do it in loving memory of your loved one.
Yes, they are gone – but we are still here, and I believe that we each have something good to give to the world. No matter how small our offering may seem, we need to give it – for the world’s sake, and for our own.
I think I’ve decided what I’m going to do. I am getting excited thinking that those who’ve gone beyond this life may be able to look down and smile that we are remembering them this way.
I know I’m going to look heavenward and whisper,
“This one’s for you!”
In loving memory,
Roslyn
P.S. Once you’ve completed your service, I invite you to my facebook page (search “SOLO – Getting It All Together”) to post what you did – remember you can do it anonymously if you wish – and let’s share what good was brought into the world in memory of those we are remembering!
“That’s what you hang onto . . .”
Monday, May 17th, 2010 | Death of a loved one, Family, Friends, Grieving, Healing after Loss, Losing a loved one, Losing a parent, Loss of a loved one, Service, Unshaken Faith in Trials | No Comments
Thursday was Mom’s funeral. What sweet memories have flooded my mind since that hour! At the viewing beforehand, people coming through the line told us of many ways Mom had influenced them for good, and of their love and respect for her. At the service, each of my siblings and I were able to take part in some way, and as each brother or sister spoke or sang or played I felt a wave of gratitude to be Mom’s daughter, and their sister, and that I am part of this loving family.
Each talk focused on the different ways Mom’s life blessed and lifted others, and how her example can help each of us make a difference for those around us. The thought came repeatedly to mind that we have no idea how much time we each have on this earth, and how fleeting time can be, and that if we are to be like Mom, we need to be focused on doing whatever good we can in the time that we have.
I remembered a poem I learned in my youth:
Do all the good you can
By all the means you can
In all the ways you can
For all the people you can
In whatever place you can.
Mom did. Wherever she went, she left a trail of goodness.
As the crowd left the flower-bedecked graveside, I stood next to my Uncle Wayne. My emotions were close to the surface, and I found it hard to speak. He noticed and said, “You know, you’ll find that one day, the pain leaves – and the beautiful memories come flooding in – and that’s what you hang onto.”
He is right. I didn’t even have to wait until the pain left. In spite of the ache in my heart, beautiful memories are flooding into my mind – and I am cherishing them.
Thanks for the memories, Mom. Thanks for a great life, well-lived. Thanks for raising me with the knowledge that this life isn’t the end, and that I will see you again. That future meeting will be an added incentive to live like you did, so I can be with you once more.
I love you Mom. You’ll ever be close to my thoughts.
Hanging on to the memories,
Roslyn
She is Gone
Friday, May 7th, 2010 | Death of a loved one, Family, Grieving, Losing a loved one, Losing a parent, Loss of a loved one, The Power of a Positive Outlook | No Comments
I walked downstairs tonight, and turned the corner to the room where Mom’s hospital bed used to be, and when I saw the empty space in the middle of the room, my heart felt like lead.
I guess it might be that way for a while until I get used to the fact that she isn’t here, and won’t be, ever again.
It was just three weeks ago that the doctors at the hospital sent her home for hospice care, and we knew our time with her would be brief. We had them put the bed in a large room where there would be room for friends and family to come see her and gather at her bedside – and they did. Cousins, children, grandchildren, and friends all came to see Mom, to tell her of the love they had for her, and of her great influence on their lives, and to wish her well.
Early in the days of her care here, a friend told me that there would be angels coming and going as her time in this mortal sphere was ending. I felt them. There was a sweet spirit about her and in our home during her stay here.
Early on, she was still able to communicate just a bit. She let me know she wanted to help me – and that she didn’t want to be a burden. I think of sweet things she did or said, hoping to help lighten the load she perceived I was carrying, and it reminded me of the things she had done her whole life long – always doing something to help someone else, never thinking of herself.
I think of times I would walk into the room to see if she wanted water, or food, or needed other care, and the sweet smile that lit up her face when she recognized me.
I think of the times a family member would call on the phone, and I’d hold the phone up to her ear, and watch as the things they said brought an attempt at a word, or a sigh, or a smile.
Then, as the days went on, that smile came less and less frequently, and the recognition faded, and the responses were limited to an occasional faint squeeze of a hand, or the slight lifting of an eyebrow.
The last day, it pained me to watch her breathing. I gave her the medication that was supposed to make it easier for her, but it was never easy to watch the irregular rise and fall of her chest. Then, I stepped out of the room for a few minutes, and when I returned, she had taken her last breath, and was gone.
Although there were challenges – difficult ones – in caring for Mom, I will always be grateful for those days that I had the chance to serve her. I was not perfect at it. I wish I had done better. But I learned lessons I could not have learned any other way – and I was convinced more than ever before that Mom was a beautiful soul, and that I want to do whatever it takes to arrive at the same place she is when my turn to leave this sphere comes.
Thank you, Mom. I love you. I’ll miss you.
The Walk – Part Two
Thursday, April 29th, 2010 | Building Self-Confidence, Death of a loved one, Family, Goals, Grieving, Healing after Loss, Healing from grief, Help for Widows, Losing a Spouse, Moving On, Overcoming Disappointment, Personal Care while Grieving, Sudden loss, The Power of a Positive Outlook | No Comments
“I don’t know what lies ahead of me..”
So says Alan Christofferson, the main character in Richard Paul Evans’ new book, The Walk.
Does any one of us know what the future holds? I can think of so many times in my life when I had a plan all laid out for the next weeks, months, and even years – and then, in the blink of an eye, everything changes. A phone call; a chance meeting; a turn of events, and life is altered forever.
After Alan lost his wife, his business, and his home, he decided to walk across the country to the place furthest from where his dreams all died. As he stops each night, he writes in his journal. His entries are brief, but telling. One night he wrote, “We can be victims of circumstance or masters of our own fate…” and I thought, “How can you write that when you have just lost everything, through no fault of your own? How can you say you are the master of your fate?”
Then it hit me. Alan had learned what Viktor Frankl taught: “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of human freedoms – to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances – to choose one’s own way.”
The night his wife died, Alan’s journal entry read simply, “All is lost.”
Shortly thereafter, he sat in despair at the kitchen table with two bottles of pills, contemplating taking his own life. He could find no reason to live, and was ready to end it all quickly, when he heard, from somewhere, the words,
“Life is not yours to take.”
Then, he thought he heard the voice of his late wife, McKale, whisper, “Live.”
I believe that is what each of our loved ones would say were they able to communicate with us. Not to simply exist, but to live with purpose; to choose our own way.
Again from Frankl: “Man does not simply exist, but always decides what his existence will be, what he will become in the next moment.”
I believe we too can make that choice, and determine who we will be and what we will do with whatever circumstances we are presented.
There will be times we too will say, “I do not know what lies ahead of me,..” but in those times, we will also be able to say, “…but I do know what I want to become.”
That decision will change everything.
In God’s Hands
Monday, April 19th, 2010 | Death of a loved one, Family, Grieving, Help for Widows, Service, The healing power of Faith in Christ, Unshaken Faith in Trials | 3 Comments
During the first days after my husband drowned, I felt like I was plodding through life; surrounded by a cloud of confusion and grief, relying on God’s hands to carry me through each day. Only the knowledge that He was there, supporting me, helped me find hope in the future.
Three days ago my step-father called me.
“Ros, there’s something wrong with your mother.”
I stopped what I was doing and drove immediately over to their home, twenty minutes away.
I found Mom, age 88, in her recliner, head bowed, slowly rocking. I took her hand.
“Mom, it’s Ros…”
No response.
Dad told me she’d been like that for over six hours – not answering when he talked to her, not responding to anything he said or did.
My brother-in-law Brian arrived and we rushed her to the hospital, where they quickly took her back and began the assessment and testing process.
As the evening wore on, family members began to arrive at the hospital. The doctors took Mom away for a brain scan, and after diagnosing the results, the doctors called us together for a family meeting.
“Your mother has had a subdural hemorrhage, and the pressure it is putting on the brain is causing loss of function. We could do surgery to drain it, but due to her age and physical condition, she most likely wouldn’t survive the surgery. Without the surgery, because she can’t swallow and has lost so many other functions, she may live for ten days – maybe less. Your family needs to make some decisions.”
Dad began weeping, and the rest of us all looked at each other as the doctor left the room to give us time to discuss the options. We referred to Mom’s living will, and realized that if we were to honor her wishes, we would not put her through the surgery. We decided to do all we could to make her last days comfortable. Financially, a care center wasn’t really an option – so we chose to have her transferred to my home so I could help care for her while caring for my children who are still living at home.
We met with the Hospice team; those compassionate people who help make the end-of-life process as bearable as possible. Arrangements were made; the hospital bed was delivered, and soon the medical transport team arrived and brought Mom in on a gurney.
As I watched her being carried in, I wondered what the next days would hold. Would I be able to provide the care she needs? The aides will only be here for a few minutes each day, and other than that, Mom’s care is up to me. How will I handle it? What will it be like to care for her as she approaches the final curtain of death, and enters the next stage life?
I find I am apprehensive and unsure. Can I deal with death this closely? I have to trust that God will give me the strength to do what needs to be done.
Once again, my life journey is heading uphill. I pray for strength and courage as the ascent steepens, and as, once again, I take one plodding step after another into the darkness.
Once again in God’s hands,
Roslyn
Singing in the Shower
Sunday, February 28th, 2010 | Books on grief, Death of a loved one, Grieving, Healing after Loss, Healing from grief, Help for Widows, Losing a Spouse, The healing power of Faith in Christ | No Comments
It hit me the other morning as I coaxed the last tiny bit of conditioner out of the bottle in the shower: I was singing!
I used to sing in the shower all the time, years ago. I think it was always an unconscious, spontaneous reaction to joy deep in my heart. I would often find myself singing without even thinking about it.
But then when the hard times came more often and lasted longer, and my heart grew heavy, I couldn’t do it as often. The songs just died on my lips – if they ever got that far.
Then since Marty died, I don’t know that I’ve done it at all.
I never thought about it, though. It’s not like even once the thought crossed my mind, “You don’t sing in the shower anymore.” It was simply no longer part of my life.
But there I was this morning, singing, and I recognized it as a happy song from my youth, bubbling up from somewhere deep inside where it’s been hidden for a long time.
I was taken aback. I had thought I was healing well, months ago. Yet here was evidence that there had still been healing that needed to happen before my heart was free to invite those cheerful lyrics and winsome melodies back, and to let them spill forth without any conscious effort.
Is there more healing yet to come? Doubtless. Not only from the death of my spouse, and not only from the years of difficulty that preceded that event. I have yet to heal from random wounds that I’ve covered over, hoping they’ll be forgotten. I need to heal from wrongs I’ve done for which I cannot forgive myself.
I have found that healing comes best and most thoroughly when I draw near to the Great Healer, Christ, and ask for His help.
As I study His word, make changes in my life to be more in line with His principles, and try harder to follow His example, I feel His forgiveness and His acceptance of my weak offering. Each time I make even a little progress, my heart is lighter, I feel closer to Him, and I feel a deeper joy growing in my heart.
Wherever you are in your healing process, I invite you to join me in seeking Him, the one True Healer. I know doing so will bless your life.
And who knows, maybe one day you’ll find yourself …
singing in the shower!
To Your Healing,
Roslyn
(For ideas on accelerating your healing, see pages 37-117 in my book, SOLO – Getting It All Together When You Find Yourself Alone.)
Believe you Can!
Monday, February 2nd, 2009 | Building Self-Confidence, Goals, Healing after Loss, The Power of a Positive Outlook | No Comments
Bill Bartman has overcome incredible odds in his life. Being raised in poverty, coming from a family where no one even graduated from high school, he didn’t have much future.
However, Bill wanted something different than what he was surrounded by. He wanted better. And he worked hard (and worked smart!) and he eventually graduated from law school!
How can someone make such drastic changes?
He had to believe he could do it. If he hadn’t believed he could do it, he would never have taken the first step. The thought, “What’s the use – it will never happen” would have prevented him from making any progress.
On his four-part goal-setting series at iLearningGlobal.com, he encourages us to “Think BIG!” He says we need to dream, and we need to believe those dreams can come true. We need to believe that we are good enough already to become what we want to become, and all it takes now is our belief and effort!
When you’ve endured the loss of a loved one, dreams for the future can seem useless. Why go on, without that person in our life? What’s the use?
I believe that we need our dreams now more than ever. We need something to carry us through the darkness and confusion of grief, and to help us to build a new life and give us something to live for. Our dreams can be one thing that help us move on and find healing.
So I echo Bill Bartman: Think Big! Dare to dream about something you’d like to become or accomplish. Then remember that God sent you to earth with talents and skills – and a mission to accomplish with them. Believe that you CAN do it – and that with His help, you will.
One of my favorite books as a child was The Little Engine that Could. I can remember reading those words over and over: “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can…”
So that will be my mantra from this day forward: “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can!”
Join me – and dream big, and believe!
With belief for the future,
Roslyn
Seasons!
Saturday, October 25th, 2008 | Grieving, Healing after Loss, The Power of a Positive Outlook, Unshaken Faith in Trials | No Comments
I noticed it in the air for the first time yesterday morning—that extra ‘bite’ of crispness, the added chill, the feeling of approaching change—and I felt despair.
I can usually tell how well I am doing emotionally by how well I welcome the change of seasons. Here, high in the Utah mountains, there are four very distinct seasons, and the progression of one to the next triggers different emotions in me depending on the season, and depending on my emotional state.
Spring—ah, yes approaching Spring! That season I always welcome. It means the end of barrenness, of biting cold, and the end of long dark nights and the dreary gray days of winter.
It means release from the heavy coats, scarves, boots, hats and gloves. It brings with it delicate color and new life, things that lift my spirits and fill me with hope and happiness.
Summer follows quickly, bringing with it freedom from the strict schedules of the school year, and ushering in the visual feast of the flowers’ vibrant hues, the innumerable shades of green in grass and leaves, and the deep blue of the Summer sky. And warmth! Oh, the glorious warmth of the hot summer sun, filling the trees and vines and plants with life as they produce fruits and vegetables and blossoms to delight the eye and the palate. Yes, I can welcome Summer wholeheartedly.
But Autumn . . . The last few years I have had a difficult time welcoming Autumn. Even though it brings relief from the relentless heat of August, and even in spite of the breathtaking colors with which it paints the mountains and trees, I cannot welcome Autumn—because always following on its heels is Winter.
Winter: cold, dead, dark, devoid of life and beauty. In speaking with other women who have endured loss, I find that I am not alone in this feeling. How can we endure this annual loss of all that is beautiful and warm and face months of all that reminds us of loss?
My computer’s dictionary defines despair as “the complete loss or absence of hope.” When that feeling came over me this morning, it was coupled with fear. I have been pondering my reaction, and one scripture keeps coming to mind: “God hath not given us the spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” (2 Timothy 1:7)
I looked through my Bible topical guide and read the entries listed under fear. In just a few moments of study I found eleven times the words “fear not”. I get the feeling it isn’t just an invitation! Could it be counsel that if followed will make the difference between a life of faith and a life of ‘quiet desperation’? Can we make the choice not to despair?
In 1 Thessalonians 4:13, Paul counseled the early saints, “…sorrow not, even as others which have no hope…”
His words made me remember that we who know Christ do have reason to hope—in any situation—that others might not understand. We have hope because Christ has promised us He will always be with us, through all our trials. Do we appreciate that as we might? I think not – at least I know I do not. Just think: our “walk with Christ” can be truly that—knowing our Savior is walking right by our side through each moment of life. If we ask to be more aware, and if we take notice, I believe we will see evidences that He is there.
We also have hope because we know this life is not the whole of existence—there is the hope of a better world after this one. One where, perhaps, winter will not chill to the bone and drain all color from the landscape and from life. I don’t know what it will be like, but this I do know: the scriptures speak of a glorious resurrection after this life, and I have felt the assurance that it surely awaits the faithful. God keeps His promises!
So, as warm days grow shorter, nights begin to grow longer, and I feel the bracing morning air, I can refuse to despair—because I have hope. I know that Spring will always follow Winter, no matter what—and that gives me something to hope for.
I can remember that God created Winter, and look for any good and any beauty in Winter that I can appreciate. I can thank Him in all things, as we are counseled to—yes, thank Him even for Winter.
And during the long Winter – as in the long season of grief – I can continually turn to our Creator and draw light and life and strength from Him, until the morning air once again hints of warmth and I feel the rushing joy of realizing – Spring is on its way!
With hope,
Roslyn
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