A Divine Detour
Heal and grow in 2018. Grief can lurk in your mind like a stalker.
Being a survivor is hard. But one day you will take the blanket off and wipe
the tears away. You must accept death with faith; faith is central. Please
don't live recklessly.
Since it's Christmastime, grievers know normal expectation of joy
can now be heart-ripping and all-consuming. Here is a story on a lady whose son
died around the holidays. She took down the tree. She heard a voice say that
was dishonoring her son. Then she sketched. Her hand had its own mind. She was
multiplying numbers. She came up with a huge number and followed it by a colon: 1. The one stood for the one second
it took for Danny's soul to leave. The left number was the seconds he lived. No
matter how horrible the second was, it was nothing compared to the millions of
joyous seconds. The day of his death means nothing. The day of his birth means
everything. The day after his birthday she brings stuffed animals to a
hospital. Another lady on the day of her late mother's birthday gave food to a
homeless man. "My mother went to heaven. Today is her birthday," she
said. "We'd like to celebrate with you."
Grief is like a long and tumultuous
winter season. But some continue Christmas traditions in honor of the deceased
and realize the shortness of life on earth. Little pieces of your heart may
have broken off. Recall the memories of the ornaments with children's
thumbprints, cutting down the tree, the year with the unexpected snow, movies
you saw and when you got bikes. Many Christmas Light Fight contestants continue
on in honor of a deceased love one.
Some feel that the earth and sky have
crushed them, but you will come out of feeling immersed in winter and darkness.
Spring will arrive! Helen Keller said to keep your face in the sunshine
and you cannot see the shadows. It's what the sunflowers do. Grief melts in the sunlight of gratitude,
says Billy Graham. Faith is the bird that feels the light and sings when the
dawn is still dark--Rabindranath Tagore.
A mother of a Sandy Hook victim said God
wanted her to understand that her daughter's light did not extinguish. She
needed to reach beyond herself and trusted Him
to make something good of the horror to heal. Long before her Emilie
died, Jesus died and arose. Out of the darkness and grief of his death came new
life. As grief and hate left her heart, there was more room to remember her
daughter and treasure what she meant to the family.
Loss is illuminated as we witness people
making plans with family, exchanging gifts or engaging in traditions. Solitude
can offer a time of reflection to explore thoughts and synthesize information
that can allow for growth. Try carving something out of the cold icicle by
serving others. Some turn to advocacy.
One suggestion I read to deal with grief
is to help your family communicate their emotions to each other with a
“Feelings Chart.” Write on the chart “Today I feel …” and attach a piece of
Velcro in the space after “feel.” (You may want to have a space for each family
member). Then, draw faces or write down emotions on several circles of heavy
paper and attach Velcro on the backs. Include as many different emotions as you
can think of. Remember that younger children may need simpler words and
pictures, but older children and adults will need a wide range of words to help
them better identify and express their emotions. Here
are some ideas which can be adapted to meet your needs: sad, lonely, angry,
confused, guilty, bitter, rejected, helpless, afraid, worried, disappointed,
resentful, jealous, inadequate, vindictive, depressed, lost, abandoned,
betrayed, sorrowful, better, so-so, relieved, okay, not bad, hopeful, peaceful,
reassured, thankful, secure, insecure, unloved, loved, encouraged, joyful.
A doctor saved by her husband who was a
nurse in the Las Vegas tragedy says nobody teaches you how to grieve. She goes
breath by breath. Another man curled up for a while and had to say, "Left
foot. Right foot. Breathe." A state representative called losing her
father and grandfather plodding forward as if by remote control. One day you
won't feel off balance, stumble or feel like you are moving in limbo.
There was a lot of coverage about the
20th anniversary of Princess Diana's death. Her sons had to wonder what would
she want them to do? Grief can make you or break you. I didn't want it to break
me, Prince William said. He hears his
mother saying, "Let's go." She's with him. He said it was like she
was walking along beside them at her funeral procession. Her sons celebrate her
life as they mourn the loss. The princes, had they known she was going to die,
wouldn't have been so blasé on their last phone call with her, they said.
Remember this when you hurriedly speak to people. You never know when the last
conversation will be.
The Andrew McDonough B+ Foundation
honors the memory of Andrew, a 14-year-old athlete and an A student from
Wilmington, Del. On Jan. 27, 2007, Andrew helped lead his team to victory in a
Pennsylvania state championship soccer tournament. Within 48 hours, he was in
cardiac arrest. The diagnosis was AML leukemia. The prognosis was grim. In
fact, doctors didn’t expect Andrew to live through the night. Amazingly, Andrew
fought for 167 days before going to heaven on July 14, 2007. Andrew’s B+ blood
type became the perfect message — BE POSITIVE — to reflect how he lived his
life and how he inspired others to do the same. Throughout his illness, Andrew
inspired thousands to B+ and “Live Like Andrew.”
Welles
Crowther's parents, with the support of a Michigan foundation, created the Red
Bandana Project, a character-development program for classrooms, sports teams,
camps and youth programs. He saved dozens of lives on 9/11. The Welles Crowther
Red Bandana Run, a five-kilometer memorial road race, is held every October at
Boston College.
Turn
loss into drive as parents of hazing victims have to stop that nonsense on
college campuses.
Leonard Fournette says he wished heaven
had visiting hours. He's donated blood, spoken to wayward kids, learned to
waltz and marched with his high school band to deal with grief and adversity.
Steve Johnson played in the French Open
after his father's death three weeks earlier. He said he knew he was with him
and raised him to be a competitor and a fighter to the last point, so he went
on. Parents want their kids to make an impact. Jimmy Fallon said, "Mom,
I'll never stop trying to make you laugh" after she recently died.
A
couple takes their deceased daughter's photo with them and places in family photos. It makes them feel
complete.
Cemeteries
interrupt the finest families, says Max Lucado.
Cemeteries are seen as a place of loss, but
can be a fervent reminder to seize the day was a line on The Blacklist show.
Sometimes
death is something good for someone in deep
suffering. Has cancer cobwebbed through
a loved one's body? Was it like
a handful of sand thrown inside of them
that just goes everywhere? We are better
because someone was here and diminished
because they are gone. Our loss is heaven's
gain. Your loved ones are up there orchestrating
things. You are going to miss hugs, stories
of the past and hope for the future, but rock-solid
faith will help get you through it. Don't suppress your feelings. But remember, the only
wrong thing to say to others who are
grieving is nothing. Psalm 69:20
says I looked for sympathy, but there
was none, for comforters, and
I found none. How sad.
Hobbled by grief? Rocked to the core? Wouldn't it be nice to hear: I give thanks to my God, with
every remembrance of your loved one,
my paraphrase of Philippians 1:3. Play
Bible "roulette"--turn to verses
and ask how they might apply
to your life, the way you
think, speak or relate to people. Listen to "It Is Well With My Soul" or other songs on K-LOVE.
"No matter what happens, I
win," said my very ill aunt who saw Jesus
and asked for his healing. Whether
God healed her or took her home, she could
not lose. Heaven would not be a
concession. Heaven would not be defeat. I believe heaven becomes more
inviting by the minute. It is the title page
in the book of eternity. You are with the son of God, the prince of peace.
The local mother of a helicopter
crash victim said she knew heaven was euphoric and her son was having the
biggest party. When a local four-year-old girl died, her mother said she was
instantly healed.
A Washington, D.C., lady donated her
six-day old identical twin's body organs to various places and later visited
them. She was in Boston and went to Harvard Medical School. They said infant
eyes are unusual because most of us die older. They were very useful. She said, "My son got into Harvard, and
I'm an Ivy League mom." Then she went to Duke where his cord blood went.
They are studying how anencephaly develops. That is how he died. Cytonet got
his liver. They are determining the best
temperature at which to freeze infant liver cells for lifesaving therapy. They
also said they were the only donor family who had ever visited. The family next
went to the University of Philadelphia. They got Thomas's retinas. They had
been waiting six years for a sample like his to study retinoblastoma. Her
feeling of grief started turning to pride. She has written a book.
David Jeremiah says the death of a
child is a period before the sentence is finished. Melissa Bauch said when she
was grieving over her pregnancy loss every joyful expectant baby announcement
felt like a tiny stab in the heart. It's almost like God gave us a shot of
anesthesia so we could survive, said Steven Curtis Chapman after his daughter
died.
Patton Oswalt said his life dimmed
50 percent with the loss of his wife. Todd Fisher, custodian of Debbie Reynolds
and his sister Carrie's legacies, said the exhibit on them eases his grief. A
widower featured on Steve Hartman's news segment said he felt an electric shock
when he met his wife. He said he now suffers a beautiful memory in a museum he
created in honor of her. A boy featured
on another Hartman segment lost his dad at 4. His mom died in her sleep shortly
thereafter. He gives away toys to make people smile and gets the hugs he needs.
Luke Bryan, whose family has
suffered much loss, said you may never get back to 100. When someone else is
struggling, you've got to bring the casserole, he said. Secondary impact of
loss is hard when those you think would always stand at your side are not as
supportive as they'd hoped or not at all. (TAPS magazine)
Friends will help you move, but not
come over for an emotional gathering, but Andy Grammer does just that. You,
too, can propose a specific deed for the newly bereaved.
Many don't understand the deep hurt
and do not prop you up because they don't understand until they've been in your
shoes. It would be nice to have hugs when you are shivering and feel isolated,
said Sheryl Sandberg. People are so afraid to say the wrong thing that they
look at you as if you're a ghost--you're invisible and frightening. Her Facebook employees now
receive up to 20 days of paid leave to grieve the loss of an immediate family member
and up to 10 days after the death of an extended family member. The policy
doubles the amount of time employees used to receive for bereavement.
Others may make it hard to be optimistic. You think you'll
never be intact. Songs and scents may bring forth a vivid memory of the
departed, but one day those will make you smile and see beauty. Take your time.
Eventually you will help others see a glimmer of hope and comfort another as
others come to you because they know you have lived it. I think we shed layers
of denial, bargaining, guilt and anger until we wash them away and get to a veneer
that makes us feel competent enough to let people think we are fine. God made
the day 24 hours so we can cry alone at 3 a.m. or talk to our past loved ones
above.
I'm sure love lives on, said Alan Pederson. His daughter
was killed in an auto wreck. "I
reach for fallen stars. I look for any sign from where you are. I call your
name out to the wind so I can hear your voice again. People think I'm crazy
cause I talk to you this way. But you amaze me with the words I feel you say.
You're the inspiration that keeps me strong. I know you're just beyond my
touch. You're never really gone. So I chase butterflies…"
In an interview, he learned of the 4 Hs. The first one is hope. The second H is
help. The third is honor. There’s a
gentleman in New Hampshire who every morning when he goes through the toll booth
on his way to work, pays his toll and the car behind him, 35 cents, and leaves
a card with the toll operator to give the next car that says this is in honor
of his son. And then that makes the
fourth H healing when he sees somebody with hope, help and honor. The amazing
thing about healing is that it is a process, he said.
You may want to leave a coin on a
headstone or at the grave meant as a message that you visited. It is a military
tradition.
National Grief Awareness Day is Aug.
30 to bring the myths, cliches and stigmas of death out of the dark and into
the light. Find it on Facebook. I also found this on Facebook. Grief, I've
learned is really just love. It's all the love you want to give but cannot. All of that unspent love gathers up in
the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat and in that hollow part of
your chest. The cuts and bruises will heal. Grief is love with no place to go.
Other holidays besides Christmas are
hard, too. The signs and symbols of Halloween take on new meaning. Tombstones,
skeletons, ghosts and other decorations may no longer be amusing for family and
friends after the death of a loved one. This is mentioned in The Griever’s
Calendar inspired by Jo-Ann Lautman, Founder of OUR HOUSE Grief Support Center.
While most of us are waiting to see if the groundhog will see its shadow to
determine an early spring, a griever is apprehensive about the prospect of six
more weeks of their “emotional” winter.
Tax day is met with dread if it
is a reminder of “My dad used to help me do my taxes,” “This is the first time
I’m listing myself as a widow” or “I have one less dependent since my child
died.” Grievers may not feel up to
Fourth of July barbecues and fireworks. Attending a convivial gathering where
no one mentions the person who died can be hurtful and isolating. And, as one widower said, “I don’t want to
celebrate my new found ‘independence.’"
Besides faith, I
know there is just plain nothing I can do about death. When you go through a
breakup, you can wonder if there is hope. I don't recall where I read this.
Leaving something behind is one thing. What we don’t consider is the grieving in the
leaving. Yet, when we leave something behind, it will naturally leave a hole of
some sort. Whether that hole be large or small, disorienting or desired,
painful or painless, it is the now vacant space that was once occupied by
whatever it is that we’re leaving.
Creating a space creates a measure of discomfort because we’re not used
to a hole being where something else used to be. On top of that, we’re naturally prone to fill
empty spaces for the simple fact that they’re empty. Whatever the nature of the
hole, we grieve the holes left in our lives.
Grieving a loss is accepting the hole. And sometimes the pain of
accepting the hole is greater than the pain of the thing that once occupied the
hole.
In the ensuing
emotional trade-off that we find ourselves embroiled in, too often we chose to
avoid the pain of the hole by not creating the hole in the first place. Worse yet, in order to avoid the pain we often
put back whatever it was that we had removed in the first place. Leaving the past means grieving.