Celebrating Life and Death

Spent an amazing summer and fall thinking about grief and recovery.

My time in China exploring grief and loss rituals taught me about the importance of “continuing bonds” in the grief process. One of the most exciting books on bereavement by George Bonanno, The Other Side of Madness: What the New Science of Bereavement Tells Us about Life After Loss, addresses the issue of the importance of continuing bonds in the grief process. I loved my time in China because for the first time I “got” how the grief process need not be steeped in hopelessness and despair. Instead, an important element is how to live with loss, move forward while not ever forgetting.

Also, I had the opportunity to meet and share time with widows at both Camp Widow in San Diego, and the widowed community in Arizona at the WCESS conference ‘Tools for the “New Normal’ Journey this past weekend. The widowed community is providing invaluable support to those bereaved people who can access these resources.

My takeaways from both conferences are many. Off the top of my head, I see the importance to educate all of us about the grief process and HOW to respond to a person bereft with grief. At each conference on each message boards there are long discussion of the inappropriate comments many folks make to grieving people. Clearly, all are aware that is is merely ignorance, but in any event those comments wound and wound deeply.

My second takeaway was the number of folks who are active on the internet either in Facebook groups, blogs, websites dealing specifically with loss of the spouse. My heart aches as many of these widows are young women who have lost their “soul mates”  fighting wars for the United States. Their blogs are pithy and short, their stories painful to read. The young widow is raging her own war to get support and aid from her fellow mourners, good for her. And, very unlike many of my peers in an older demographic. Perhaps one way children can help their grieving parents is to help them navigate the internet for support.

My final takeaway is the need for us culturally to develop rituals which support a way to honor our ancestors. Fortunate for me, the celebration which corresponds with Halloween, Día de los Muertos,The Day of the Dead, was being celebrated at the Botanical Garden in Tempe, AZ. As I did in China, I learned some fascinating things from two Mexican artists who were selling their art work .

Despite the language barrier, it was clear that death in Mexican culture is embraced as part of the life cycle in much the same way it is in Eastern cultures. In both of these cultures death is celebrated as part of life and in that celebration the ancestors live on and are honored in ceremony during the year. Grave sweeping and decorating in both of these cultures are a time of celebration and hoopla. The closest thing we have is Memorial Day where we place red-white-and blue planters on graves. However, what seems absent is the true celebration of family history.

So, my journey now is to explore how we might find rituals which serve to sustain loved ones during times of grief as part of the whole recovery process

Why not learn to share and celebrate communally the lives of those who are no longer with us in physical form, but who live on with us forever ?

Because as we all know, death is inevitable. Why not learn tools which aid in recovery ?

I recall my high school english teacher introducing me to the idea that we are all alone in the end…together. Weird concept to consider at 16. The title of my blog, my minstry as it were, is bogus. We all do grieve alone…we do. Hopefully, we are in the presence of others, but when it comes right down to it our grief is our own, and we own our grief.

I am a happily married woman. Widowed 5 1/2 years ago. I write and speak about grief. I coach widows  on managing  grief. I know my stuff. I know the widow’s riff. First question, “How long does this pain last ?” Glib answer, “until it ends”. WIll I feel like this forever, “no, comes and goes, firsts of everything the hardest, comes in waves” blah, blah, blah. How can I make the pain go away, “you can’t ” You can try as I did with alcohol, pain medication, anti anxiety pills, but damn, it didn’t go away. It just came back in spades. And, I was still alone. And, the grief was still there. And, then I needed to stop using the substances that the medical profession thought would ease my pain ( translate: keep me numb, quiet and appropriate.)

We widows secretly harbor the hope that one day we will wake up, a little like sleeping beauty and…no more grief  !We know the pain lessens with time, activity, and forward motion. We put in our grief work and one day we will go to a funeral or memorial service and will watch and participate with a sense of detachment. Yes, we have paid our dues. We have reorganized our life. We are experts at this grief thing. We have been there, done that, and have the tee shirt to prove it.

I don’t do funerals. I don’t do memorials. Nope, just haven’t for 5 1/2 years. I find ways to reach out, but I avoid stepping into the collective pain ( euphemistically called celebration of life/ memorial service/ funeral. )  I don’t do it. The service designed as a lovely celebration of life. Pictures, slide shows, all to make this passage somehow easier to take. Easier to absorb. It’s not “really” death. They are in a better place. All devices to keep us appropriate and under control.Yet, the collective tension and pain permeates the room. But, like the proverbial elephant in the living room, collectively we pretend “it’s”  not there.

I long to live in a culture where we wail with grief. Where we fall on the floor, or the pew, or the casket and give voice the our unbelievable anguish. We  grieve our grief. Our ancient grief, our current grief, our anticipated grief. But, no, we are all so fucking appropriate. Yes, we are composed. We smile tightly at one another. We avoid tears at all cost.We squelch the primitive desire to “release and let go, so the vice with lessen” Our culture thrives and abides by these rules. And, I. too, participate in that social charade.

In our culture the “good mourner” is one who is  strong. The “good widow” is one who is composed, gracious, and elegant. My biggest fear at Rob’s memorial service would be any of us would create  a scene (translate showing and sharing our pain ) I prompted my girls to not show a feeling to the 400 people at Rob’s memorial. The 4 of us did not shed ONE tear in public. I asked them to think of Jackie Kennedy. I was proud. We were “good”. We were strong. We were…we were…unreal.

Why didn’t we all wail and cry and scream our anquish to the heavens? Why didn’t we allow the tears and the snot to flow. I mean really flow? Instead, for the comfort of all, we remained elegant and the image of grace. We grieved alone. We saved the ugly cries, the red noses, the snot rags for a time when no one could see. We were good all American grievers.

This weekend I did it. I broke my rule. I went to a memorial service .And now today, I understand why I don’t go to these events. I know more. Today that too familar vise, grips my chest yet again. Only this time, it’s not my loss, it’s not my show, it’s not my pain. But, the pain of grief of any widow is palpable and universal. The widow connection is there…pure and simple. ( This is about widows, certainly we can fill in the blanks with any grieving parent, spouse, friend, but for this…it’s about widows) I attended a memorial service for the first time in 5 12 years . It was a beautiful tribute to a man and family. A family I have a wonderful history with. A family I care deeply about.

The slide show was timed perfectly with perfect music. The family was magnificient as usual. The speakers shared stories. But as I sat there witnessing the pain I was not “alone”. I was sitting with and spending the weekend with one of my best and oldest friends. I was NOT alone, but I was alone. I was alone, together. My friend and I talked for hours and hours, but nonetheless our grief was ours, but we did share the pain together. What a gift.

I looked around at all the beautiful people. Not a one had a red nose , flowing tears or snot. Not a one. Each of us used tissues to keep our faces relatively dry. One young man choked back tears, another wiped tears on his suit jacket. We all seemed consciously aware that we were not to show others our grief ( by that I mean “messy, raw grief “). We were alone, together. A weird subtext persisted. A wonderful man has died, yet we collectively “held it together”  strong Americans. The vice around my heart tightened.

I looked into the widow’s eyes and we exchanged a look I only have shared with other widows….that deep in your soul, grab you by the throat ,pain. I have been there. I will walk with her. But, we too kept our demeanor appropriate, until I couldn’t any longer . My tears wouldn’t stop, but rather than stand there exposed, I went out in the rain…thinking, “isn’t my grief over yet?  5 1/2 years is long enough.I love my current life, why do I feel like I could lay on the concrete parking lot and scream or wail ? My tears, the” vice ” felt primitive and universal. I didn’t want to see the pain of another widow, another widow who must walk the walk….alone, yet together.

I returned home. I am alone. I have much to do. All I want to do is wail and cry. Alone.

I just dropped Wilson off at the puppy hotel. I am alone.

I am giving myself the luxury of feeling the feelings. I will be alone and I will grieve for my friend, grieve for me, grieve for my friends who haven’t experienced this YET.

All I want is to be  alone with my tears. I want to grieve. And, I want to grieve alone…for me…for her…for all of us. And I know that I have to grieve alone, but in an odd way together.

Neat research coming out about the resilience of widows! Yes, we are a tenacious bunch. Been through hell, survived it, got the tee shirt and the water bottle…. As I embark on pulling all the information together I want to share with you all tidbits which will serve to inspire you, buoy you during dark times, AND reassure you that indeed Life Goes On.

I am most interested in the positive rituals you have engaged in to thrive during this period in your life. My wonderful travel to China has me humming with ideas about how to make this widow journey more meaningful. My experience with The Day of The Dead also tickled my imagination and is sending me on a journey to explore other rituals.

I need your help. Will you join me in sharing your positive rituals through the widow walk? If you have not had positive rituals, JUST WAIT: I will be sharing with you rituals (long established rituals) which may pique your curiosity and offer you hope. Because that’s what we all want, right? Hope in those dark times.

Beth

Please visit my blog at Do Not Grieve Alone.com

Just received an email from a special friend who is marking the third anniversary of her husband’s death. Double whammy, the “happy, happy, happy season” mixed with the loss of so many “happy seasons gone by.”

Taking ownership of our lives that have been transformed. How does one do that? How does one make new all the things, traditions that were once part and parcel to this time of year.

My late husband was a car fanatic…unpacking ornaments, seeing the twenty years of Hallmark cars, remembering the rituals that went along with decorating the tree, exchanging notes. Remembering the year he put a down coat in a wooden box and hammered it shut (because I am famous for peeking). The year there were no tags on the packages, only clues. The children went wild, who was this for?  The year he decided to wear a red Santa hat every time he went out of the house starting on December 1st? The year of making Christmas calendars BEFORE there were computer programs to do so. The year of making not one but TWO barbie houses and painting them December 23rd. The year he accused me of decorating the house so gaudily (is that a word?)…that it could have been in East Los Angeles (where I grew up). Or, the year the girls and I changed the clocks forward so we could open presents at 6 am…when it was really 4 am. Or, the ritual of lighting the luminarios along our sidewalk Christmas Eve on the way to the candlelight service at church. Or the bunch of carrots he would get at the store so the reindeers and Santa would have food for their long journey…

The beauty about grief, is we always have the memories. Memories to warm our hearts when the pain the the lonliness feels almost too much to bear.

But, those seasons are past. This first Christmas starting new is a challenge. A real challenge…hmmmmm, wonder what kind of merriment I can create?

Ideas?

Beth

Tis the season to be jolly !

Who hasn’t experienced grief ? If there’s anyone out there reading this and who hasn’t experienced grief, please contact all of us.

When is grief most pronounced? For many of us the holidays bring out, upend, fast forward the holidays past.

The holidays that were perfect, the one’s not so perfect, the people who were there, the people who no longer there.

We are surrounded by visions of comfort and joy. Comfort and joy? What’s wrong with me?

Family members estranged, dreams not fulfilled, memories made, memories lost.

Grievers, in particular, are a unique group.

No more mention of the family member lost. No one mentions the dead husband. Why is that? Fearful that perhaps the widow may suddenly remember that she’s lost her life partner? The child taken away much too young, not mentioned, why dwell on the unpleasant?

The friends who were gathered for a couple of months following the death, are the same people who no longer call, visit, and if and when they do the clear expectation is for you to “snap to it.”

Tolerate grief or grief like behavior after one year, forgetaboutit? Many people have a short fuse with the grieving individual if , in the observer’s mind the grief has gone on(in their minds ) too long. But, for those who have experienced the intolerance of others , just wait, their turn will come…and as they say, “what comes around, goes around”

I read somewhere that by the age of 65, 50 % of married women will be widowed and that the average age of widows is 55 years old. So, as we look around we wonder, who will be next? How have they treated us? Were they tolerate, compassionate, inpatient? Can we rise above the intolerance from them, and show compassion, care and concern?

As a grieving person whether it be a few months or years, you can make an impact.

1. Remember, grief is brought to the forefront during this holiday time

2. Send the griever a card, make a call and share a memory of the person they lost. Let them know the lost one is still “alive” in your memory.

3. How about a special ritual ? A place setting at the table? A candle burning (safely)

4. A special sharing at the table?

5. A letter sent to your loved one with all you have to say?

6. A letter sent FROM your loved one about what they wish for you.

7. FINALLY, be a WISE VIEWER of the media? The commercials which depict families that seem all so perfect? The commercials/movies that portray life absent of pain?  Be aware and skeptical of media messages that make you feel NOT OKAY…

At an early point in my grief, I called a woman who had  been widowed, yet I had never met her. I called, she took me in, fed me a beautiful lunch, and said something I will never forget…”I’ve got your back, girl.” Every time I see her she says that to me. And, I believe her.

I do not want my late husband to die in vain. He was an organ donor, so I know three people are alive now who might not be because of Rob’s wonderful generosity. I do not want my husband to die in vain, by having me slowly die from the loss. Instead, I want to become my best self, I want to live a life that he would be proud of. I want to surround myself with people who feed me and who are fed by me. I want to spread my wings, live as a role model, break with the negative bonds, and attach to the positive ones.

My way of doing that is by doing this work. The work of reaching out to those who mourn, who grieve.

What would your loved one want?

What if you took the time to write a letter, imagine that letter is from your loved one who has passed. That letter is to YOU. That letter communicates what they would want and hope for your life.

I can’t imagine that the letter from my grandmother, mother, father, or late husband would say,

“Beth I want you to suffer. I want you to go about with a long face, know only pain, focus on the loss and essentially be a pain in the ass. “I know that for each of them, they would wish me to have love, share joy, go towards the light, spend time with people who love and are loving. Move beyond the past, treasure the present, and know that the cycle of life and death is normal.

So, tonight I write that letter. Perhaps, I will begin with Grandma Millie, for she certainly would recommend combing my hair, putting on some lipstick, and wearing a stylish dress this Christmas season.

Have an impact on those who grieve, for who knows when you will be in need of the same love and nurturing you are sharing now?

Blessings during what can be the most magical season of the year.

Transform yourself.

Beth


Widows Unite! Grief - Five Tips to Survive the Holidays
By Beth Waddel Happy Holidays,Ting-ting-a-ling.Everywhere I go I hear the happy, happy, happy sounds of the holidays. Wait, I am a widow. I am experiencing grief, loss, misery. What's so jolly about being left alone at this time after a good marriage ? Left alone to manage the memories, to live through the 6 weeks of happy, happy family time. Children out of the home, decorations in the storage shed. Decorations collected over 25 years. The handmade ornaments, the stockings, the cookie cutters. I detested the holidays, I detested the tv commercials, I detested the friends who no longer called. I detested the aloneness. Aloneness was everywhere and reinforced by the mass media.I tried everything to make the time right. I went to department store sales, I bought all new Christmas oraments (never took them out of the box), I went to chat rooms, I went to grief counselors, the only thing that helped was OTHER WIDOWS. I reached out, I listened, I learned and I watched. I can be different. Rob died, I didn't. Now the challenge was what to do? I am a psychologist, I knew the answer: REFRAME what is, or be miserable. Change the externals, or stay in bed for weeks on end.I choose CHANGE. BE DIFFERENT= DO DIFFERENT= FEEL DIFFERENT...try it, it works

For fun today, I googled “blogs for widows.” Much to my chagrin, there wasn’t much available. Originally when starting this blog, I viewed it as a home for all persons in transition. But, as the holidays approach, I am really “tuned in” to those of us who have experienced loss…family, death, change in circumstances. But, out of my affinity and identification with widows, this blog is dedicated to the “widows” among us, but the reasons apply to all who have experienced loss.

Reason One: The media communicates that holidays are happy, happy, happy family times. Yes, they are happy, at times. But, often they are not. The media does a good job of making many of us feel like outsiders….so, getting a reality check from web groups is a great idea.

Reason Two: Holidays are a time of community. There are many forms of community and now with social networking communities exploding on the internet, why not explore those communities?

Reason Three: Reframing our own lives is best done by listening to other people’s stories. We can step back, compare our situation by thinking about “others” and the challenges they face.

Reason Four: Get your mind off your troubles and realize that instead of doing belly button contemplation, you might be able to offer solace to someone less fortunate then you.

Reason Five: Holidays are meant to be enjoyed…oftentimes blogs offer suggestions and helpful hints that can boost your own creativity.

blog on….and share with all of us what you have discovered….

Beth