Grief

I heard something recently that really spoke to me.  It was by Susan David and she said “Grief is love looking for its home.”  That made sense to me. When our loved one dies, that person is no longer physically here for us to give our love to.  It can be very unsettling, especially if we allow ourselves to feel it.

I personally have a love/hate relationship with grief.  Mine is actually more of a hate/love.  I hate the feeling when I’m in the middle of it, or when I feel it coming on.  Sometimes, I self-medicate (can you say AVOID) by binge-watching something on TV.  But when I do allow myself to feel it, the icy grip of grief usually melts into a puddle of love.

This week I was purposefully watching less television to give myself more time to read and do some crafting.  But grief has a mind of its own sometimes.  And because I allowed myself that extra time and space, grief snuck in.

One evening, I just wanted my parents.  I felt their loss to a degree I haven’t felt in quite a while.  I’m not sure what exactly brought it on. It might have been due to a health scare of a loved one.  All I know is I felt the ache of my love not finding its home.  I could feel the pressure behind my eyes.  The tears were right there, pushing, straining to get out.  

I started thinking about my mom and dad, and how different my grief experience was for each of them.  My dad’s death felt so much more “raw” and I admit feeling some guilt in the past, that I did not experience it the same way for my mother. I cried buckets of tears at my dad’s service, but with my mom, I cried very little.  Then I remind myself because of her dementia, the essence of my mom’s personality, who she was and how she related to us, slipped away little by little over a period of years.  

I just have this visual of holding a photograph of my dad.  It gets ripped up rather quickly into a few large pieces.  The pain is intense and quick.  Which is so odd, because we knew his death was coming.  He had a few bouts of cancer and it had spread to his bones. I had seen him one afternoon and he was fine.  His eyes were clear and he was talking and acting like his normal self.  About a week later, I got a phone call. When I arrived to their house, he was like a shell of himself, his eyes were more vacant, he barely spoke.  Several of us took turns moving in with my parents to provide around the clock care for my dad.  Three weeks later, surrounded by most of his family, he was gone. 

And then I’m holding a picture of my mom, and it’s like a little scrap gets torn away, one small piece at a time.  Bit by tiny bit.  We watch her slip away from us.  Thankfully, she still knew us, but the connection of parent and child, the interaction and ability to really communicate was so frayed, barely hanging on.  We anticipate enduring this hell for years.  And then suddenly she is gone.  They called it sudden cardiac arrest.  So very sudden.  How can the impact of her loss not feel as extreme?  

Never before had I examined it this way.

So, I sit and hold all of these thoughts…and the dam breaks.  The tears come.  I let them.  I feel them roll down my face.  

The tears are healing.  My parents are with me always.  I see a daisy or a Mounds bar and think of my mom.  I see a Rueben sandwich or smell Old Spice and think of my dad.  I see anything Notre Dame and think of them both.  I see them in my siblings, in my nieces and nephews and in my own children.  

And this is what I know.  Their love lives on.  And anywhere there is love, there is home.

The Unanswered Why

At this point in my life, my favorite Bible verse is Psalm 46:40 “Be Still and Know That I am God.”  I think one of the reasons is because I have been practicing that more in the last few years.  

What I have found is that for me to feel calm and have more inner strength, my “be still time” as I like to call it, is vital.  If I go too long without it, I experience more anxiety and more of not feeling like myself.  It sits just inside of me, like I’ve got hundreds of Mexican jumping beans bouncing around underneath my skin.  

It is during my “be still time” that I am better able to hear the messages God wants for me to hear.  It doesn’t happen every time, but when it does, it is usually profound for me and I journal it.  

It was a while ago when I quieted myself and told God I hated all the “why’s” in life.  There are so many!!  

I visualized a huge glacier in the ocean with the majority of the ice underneath.  On top of the water, the small peak, was my Trust.  Underneath the water was the enormity of the glacier, representing all my unanswered “why’s.”  So many more “why’s” than trust!  I also pictured all the “why’s” as burrs that are sticking to me.  They are prickly and uncomfortable and I want them off. 

I said a few prayers and then envisioned me standing with Jesus and both of us together looking at all of these burrs.  I told Jesus I hated all of the “why’s” and then I even asked, why do I hate them?  


What I could sense Jesus telling me is that it is all related to control.  I want and like to have everything in a neat little box, all tidy and nice.  All of the unanswered “why’s” are like chaos inside of my mind.  He then brought to my awareness – what if I did have all the answers to the “why’s?”  What would my life be like?  And, what if others knew I had all the answers to life’s “why’s?”  I would never be left alone – people would be after me all the time wanting to know the answers to their own “why’s.”  I would then be like God and I realized I did not want that.  I want and need my peace.

After this Jesus and I stood next to each other, again looking at all the “why” burrs sticking to me.  They were still there.  But I was just standing there, calm and comfortable, not trying to frantically remove them.

It’s been several months since I journaled this.  Looking back, I think that it has really helped me.  I realize that when I am struggling with something, knowing the answer to the why of it won’t change the fact that I need to deal with it.  A personal example is having surgery on my thumb seven months ago.  The healing process has taken so much longer than I anticipated and apparently, I am one of those people who may experience residual discomfort.  For how long? I have no idea.  But even if the doctor could give me an exact reason why, it would not change the fact that I need to learn to deal with this issue and make accommodations for it.  

I’m thankful for the lesson that “be still time” gave me.  It is serving me well.

Valentine’s Day

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day.  The day of “love.”

This can either be a really fun, romantic day, or for some, it’s just another day which leads to unmet expectations that leave people feeling empty, lonely and sad.  How can a day which is supposed to be all about love make us feel this way?

What is love?  The dictionary defines it both as a noun and a verb.  As a noun it is described as 1) A strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties // maternal love for a child and 2) a great interest and pleasure in something // his love for football.  As a verb it states 1) to feel deep affection for someone // she loved her father dearly and 2) to like or enjoy very much // I just love dancing. 

I don’t know about you, but I’m guilty of transferring the word love in place of “enjoy.”  I’ve said how much I love reading and dark chocolate.  But what would be more accurate is how much I enjoy both of those.  

In the past I have come across a few definitions of love that seem much more accurate than those above.  The first one I heard was “the intensely human desire that others should flourish.” I admit, I’m not sure who said that.  The second one I read was by C.S. Lewis: “Love is not affectionate feeling, but a steady wish for the loved person’s ultimate good as far as it can be obtained.”  I like those, I think they are a better depiction of love. We’ve all witnessed, or been the recipient of, someone professing their love, however their behaviors and actions don’t reflect that.

The last statement about the word love I just recently read in Atlas of the Heart by Brene’ Brown.  She writes “Love is not something we give or get; it is something that we nurture and grow, a connection that can be cultivated between two people only when it exists within each one of them – we can love others only as much as we love ourselves.”

This is something I’ve been hearing and beginning to understand for a while now.  You can’t truly love someone else until you love yourself.  The question is, how do we do that?

If the descriptions above that speak about love are focusing on the desire for the person to flourish and the steady wish that the person’s ultimate good can be obtained, what does loving ourself look like?  

I think for each person it may appear a little different.  Maybe a good way to start is by using the languages described by Gary Chapman in his book The Five Love Languages.  These describe love in action.  They are 1) words of affirmation, 2) physical touch, 3) receiving gifts, 4) quality time and 5) acts of service.   Let’s dive into those. 

How am I speaking to myself?  When I make a mistake, or don’t get everything done on my to-do list that day (which happens frequently for me), what am I saying to myself?  Is my internal dialogue “I’m a failure, I can’t get anything right” or is it loving “That was not the best choice, I’ll do better next time” and more kind “I may not have gotten it all done, but I did my best.”  I also read and listen to things that make me think and learn and grow in healthy ways: like learning to forgive myself and others, and learning to focus on what I have control over and, more often and importantly, what I don’t.  I also enter things I’m grateful for in my gratitude journal each day.

What am I doing for my body?  Are the majority of my food choices healthy?  Am I moving my body each day?  Am I drinking enough water?  None of us is going to do this perfectly, but how can I better show love to my physical body?

Do I treat myself with a little gift every so often?  I eat a piece of dark chocolate every day.  Another gift is a massage or pedicure.  Those are little pleasures I give to myself.

How about quality time?  I have favorite television programs and I struggle some days to not fall into the trap of binge-watching.  Ways I show love to myself are by losing myself in a good book, or getting into my craft area and being creative.  I also strive for connection by making time to have a nice long chat with a friend.  

Acts of service is my highest love language.  But what does providing an act of service for myself even look like?  I actually think it is a combination of all of the above. For myself.  It means reading my daily devotional and making sure I list what I’m thankful for each day.  It means listening to a podcast or music that feeds my soul.  It means making my lunch the night before so I’m not rushed in the morning.  It’s making sure I have some dark chocolate at home so when my sweet tooth starts screaming for attention, I have a healthier option.  And it means reading some each day, and perhaps doing a short meditation to quiet my mind.  

Trust me when I say I’m not doing any of these things perfectly.  These are things I strive for each and every day and when I fall short, I try my best to behave kindly, to show love to myself. 

So, my hope for you is that you choose YOU as your Valentine, and show yourself some love.    

Bittersweet

In early January I started reading Brene’ Brown’s newest book, Atlas of the Heart.  I haven’t finished it yet but it is one I highly recommend.  She wrote the book because of how difficult and challenging it can be at times to find the right language for the emotions we are experiencing.  

Fifteen years ago, Brene’ and her team asked participants in a training workshop to list all of the emotions they could recognize as they were experiencing them.  Long story short, the average number of emotions identified were three: happy, sad and angry.

She says “When we don’t have the language to talk about what we’re experiencing, our ability to make sense of what’s happening and share it with others is severely limited.”  I get that.  There have been many times I’m feeling an emotion in my body and I just can’t name it.  It’s like a sort of “buzz” right under my skin…I feel it, I know it’s there, but I can’t describe that feeling adequately or accurately.  When I feel like that, I want to crawl out of my skin or run away from myself but I can’t!  I’m usually not even able to have a coherent conversation, in my own mind or with someone else as to what’s going on inside.  Have you ever experienced that?  Talking to yourself in your own mind and falling short of coming to a sensible conclusion?  However, once I am able to better pinpoint what the feeling or emotion is, the buzzing calms down.  I have more understanding and clarity and am more able to convey what I’m really feeling, even to myself.   

In her book, she dissects, discusses, and shares some personal stories of eighty-seven, yes EIGHTY-SEVEN emotions.  

Today, I’m going to share one: bittersweet.  Brene’ defines it as “a mixed feeling of happiness and sadness.”  Ah yes, I know that one well.  It’s a feeling I’m becoming more and more acquainted with.  

Two months ago, I left the group I had worked with for the past 36 years.  I always thought I would retire there, but the physical demands of the job became too much.  I knew I needed to do something different.  I found a position that I feel God has been preparing me for.  A job I really enjoy, even though it has its own challenges.  Changing jobs really was bittersweet.  I was leaving a career I had built, my comfort zone and traveling into unknown territory.  I was sad leaving my co-workers and friends, some I had worked with for 20-30+ years, but happy to have found a position that I believed would be a good fit for me, and new co-workers who I admire and enjoy working with.  

Another bittersweet moment is fast approaching.  Our son is moving out of our house, moving to a new town, new state and will be a little over 2 hours away.  While I am happy for him to be spreading his wings and moving out of our “nest,” I’m going to miss him being here.  I’m often more light-hearted when he’s around, probably because of his ability to make me laugh.  

Thankfully, I know I will survive this because I have experience with it.  Our daughter has moved away, twice.  It wasn’t easy watching her go, especially because I can’t just hop in the car and drive to see her.  She’s 1600 miles away and a car ride to her would mean a lot of planning plus three days of cross-country travel.  She and I text and talk often, and thank goodness for Facetime!  But even Facetime is bittersweet.  It makes feeling connected with her much more of a possibility.  It allows me to see her facial expressions during our talks, but at the same time, there are days I’d like to crawl right through that camera app and hug my baby girl! 

Becoming “empty-nesters” will be bittersweet as well, I imagine.  I know nothing will ever be the same.  Our children may come and visit, but we will no longer be a family of four under one roof.  That does make me sad.  There are, however, parts of it I am looking forward to. I’m curious to see how my husband and I navigate this phase of our lives.  I also enjoy my quiet times at home.  And I’m not a big fan of cooking, so this is one less person to feed.  

I will leave you with a quote from Brene’s book, and hope this post has you pondering your own experiences with this emotion. Feel free to share your thoughts, and this blog post with others.

“The bittersweet side of appreciating life’s most precious moments is the unbearable awareness that those moments are passing.”        Marc Parent

Savor

I love words.  When I come across one I’m not familiar with, I like to look up the meaning and then see how it is used in a sentence.  Our children find it odd that both Mark and I have a dictionary app on our cell phones.  I don’t think there is a week that goes by that I don’t use it. 

I find it interesting how I can come across a word I’ve seen or heard many times and it strikes me differently.  Why is that, I wonder?  What about the word on that particular day caught my attention?  A word that I came across recently that caused me to pause and reflect is the word “savor.”

It seems “savor” is mostly associated with food.  When I looked up the word, it most often referred to flavor and smells.  But the last entry was the one that I was especially drawn to and caused me to be reflective, and that was “to delight in: enjoy.”

I started keeping a gratitude journal in July 2017.  At the time, I was reading a book titled One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp.  It is about her life and starting her own gratitude journal.  What I really appreciated was how simple her entries were.  They were not paragraph-long entries, but short descriptions of what she found to be thankful for each day.  

I pulled out a small, spiral bound notebook I had and started my own gratitude journal.  I kept it to one-line entries.  Some days I might only have one entry, and other days I could have four or five.  I numbered them with the same goal of reaching one thousand.  These days, I try to find at least five things each day that I have to be thankful for.  I like that at the end of the day, I reflect back and search for those things that meant the most to me.  And keeping each one to just a single line has helped keep me consistent in the practice.   As of today, I have over 7,000 entries.  That is a lot of gratitude!

You may be asking, “what does this have to do with the word savor?”  I’m getting there.  

I recently sat down with my two completed gratitude journals to review and remember.  It does bring back certain moments and experiences I have had.  There were entries like: open windows on a summer day; watching seven birds, wings fluttering in the bird bath; laughing until I cry; time with my family; and running errands with my daughter along.  

I can often remember what was going on that day which prompted a specific entry.  I have an entry of the last time I saw my mom before she passed.  A simple line – “our boy comes home!” was the day Adam came back from his summer exchange student program.  Another entry was just one word: Audrey!  I know from the date it was just a few days after my mom died and Audrey was there for me, helping me to handle whatever I needed to do.  

What I realized, however, was how often my entries involved people and nature.  Time spent with others, conversations via text or FaceTime, or even a brief encounter with a stranger.  Also noticed was seeing low lying fog over a field, a rainbow after a summer thunder storm, driving by a group of deer at sunset, or the simplicity of our little dog sitting on my lap.  

I realize that is what I savor most: connection.  Connection to people and nature.  When I have a positive, uplifting interaction with another person, it can take a normal, routine day and bring an unexpected burst of joy to it.  And nature often does the same thing.  Even now, in the midst of winter, when I see fresh snow on the bushes and trees, I recognize the beauty of that.  This morning, I saw a blue jay on a bare tree branch and it allowed me to slow down and appreciate the moment.  

I want my life to be full of more moments like these, connections that I savor, that bring me joy. 

What is it that you savor most?

Addicted or Free

Yesterday morning I had breakfast with two of my dear friends.  We don’t see each other as often as we like, but we seem to pick up right where we left off.  These are the friends who, over time, have built up my trust.  I know I can share the hard things with them and they won’t reveal those discussions with others.

When I’m with these two, the conversation usually gets deep, and it doesn’t take us long to get there.  I love those kinds of talks.  Some people you need to go slowly with, kind of like wading into cold water at the lake.  You tread slowly, first by just getting your feet wet, then a little further, maybe up to your ankles and then knees, before finally getting your whole body wet.  You do this because the water is just too cold and you need to take it slow.  Do you have those type of friends?  With these two, we are able to just dive right in!  We know wherever the wave of the conversation takes us, it will be okay.  We’re safe with each other.

Yesterday was no different.  We shared our fears and struggles; our good news and successes, and we always talk about our personal stumbling blocks.  

Somehow, we got on the subject of addiction and how at times a person can be addicted to a feeling or emotion.  People who are addicted to the dark, heavy things like drugs, alcohol, gambling, etc. experience these outside activities taking control over their lives.  Even the softer, more “socially acceptable” addictions like coffee, food, and social media can wreak havoc.  These are not activities engaged in moderation.  The addiction takes control.  

But what about a feeling or emotion?  What if that is the addiction?  What about someone who is addicted to their jealousy, anger, bitterness, fear, pessimism or depression?  They struggle with it all day, every day.  It’s so powerful it takes control. It’s not a feeling or emotional they experience, they live and breathe it.  Just like a drug addict, it’s like a poison they inject into their bloodstream and it soon spreads throughout their whole body.  It is safe to bet we all know someone who suffers from that type of addiction.

I recently heard author Resmaa Menakem on a podcast.  What he said I think is something I think we all need to hear, and embrace as truth.  He said “While we see anger and violence in the streets of our country, the real battlefield is inside our bodies.  If we are to survive as a country, it is inside our bodies where this conflict needs to be resolved.”   

The battlefield is in our body and our mind.  You may have heard the only thing we have control over is ourselves.  Our attitude and reactions, and how we treat others.  This is so true.  We have opportunities to choose every day.  Are we living from an addiction?  Or our freedom? Reacting and living from an addiction often shows up in name-calling, road rage, judgement, hatred of ourselves and of those we see as “the other.”  Being free almost always shows up as love: responding with care, empathy, compassion and forgiveness. 

We get to choose how we are going to show up.  

Addicted or free.

Cleaning my lint screen

The other morning when I got my blow dryer out, the cap at the end fell off.  When I went to put it back on I noticed the screen was covered in lint.  I spent a few minutes cleaning off that screen before attaching the cap.  And then thought nothing more of it.

The next few mornings I noticed how much more powerful the air was in the blow dryer.  It got me thinking.  Actually, I think this was God getting my attention in a way he tends to do for me.  He takes an ordinary, everyday thing and sheds light on it in a way that gets me to go inward.  I began to wonder, how much lint do I have on my mental screen?  Am I holding on to and gathering old, unhealthy thoughts patterns, judgements, or negative feelings and emotions?  If I am, how is that holding back the power I have in my own life?  Is it lessening my power to show kindness, caring, love to others?  And to myself?  

This prompted a little self-examination.  What can I let go of?  And how do I do that?  I know for me, acceptance is one way.  Accepting is different than liking it. I can hate something but still accept it.  A few months ago, I went through something that I hated and I was angry.  I was angry because I had no control over the decision, it was made for me.  When I realized I could not change the outcome, I had two choices.  I could either accept it or have an internal, mental battle fighting it, with thoughts like: I can’t believe that’s the decision, it is so wrong and stupid, everyone else thinks so, too…and on and on the warring, internal dialogue could have gone. 

It. Is. Exhausting.  

So, I chose to accept it.  And what I can share now is that a lot of beautiful fruit came from that decision.  And I wonder, if I had chosen to not accept it, if I had chosen to hold on to the anger until it produced bitterness, would I have received the beautiful fruit?  Or would it have reaped a batch of rotten apples? I’m grateful I chose wisely.

I hope you seek ways to clean your internal lint screen.

Book Review

I’m excited that my book, The Letters, is available in three weeks, on February 1. Below are two reviews that the book has received.

“Precious, validating and warm. The Letters is a beautiful, sacred story captured in precious letters between a husband and wife. The Letters teaches valuable life lessons and validates challenging, grieving truths while offering a path of hope through difficult times. The Letters will leave your heart feeling warm and full.”
-Jane Munk, MA, MBA, Founder of Kerith Brook Retreats for Grieving Adults


The Letters explores many different forms of loss and is a beautiful illustration of the unique path that each individual’s grief takes. The Letters is a testament to the resiliency of the human spirit and is an encouraging reminder that we can always find ways to stay connected to the ones that we love.
-Laura Guerrero, MS-MHC, Grief Counselor

I would like to express my thanks to both Jane and Laura, for their warm, positive reviews.

You can pre-order The Letters by heading over to the Ways to Purchase tab.

Happy reading!

Book cover

I’m really excited to share my first book, The Letters. If you move over to the Ways to Purchase section you can read a brief description. I would like to give credit to the photographer of the cover, Caleb North. I’m also proud to be his aunt!

When I asked Caleb if he would create the cover for me, I had an idea as to what I wanted. I was so excited to see the finished product, he created it exactly as I had pictured it.

The image is taken on an antique secretary that came from my mother’s family. On it are two very old, tissue paper thin letters that were written during World War II. One of them is from my grandfather to my grandmother, written while he was serving our country. The other letter is a letter from my grandmother to my grandfather. Sitting on top of those two letters are my reading glasses. I love how Caleb was able to capture the letters so the reader can see they are hand-written. I will always be grateful to him for taking the picture in my mind and turning it into a reality.

The other pictures on this website, my head shot and the picture of my family, are taken by Caleb as well. The photo shoot with my family will remain as a favorite memory of ours. More often, photo shoots are something to endure, a lot of “look at the camera and smile.” However, one of Caleb’s talents as a photographer is to bring laughter and even some silliness to the occasion, and we had so much fun!

So this blog is a thank you to Caleb, for the role he played in this project, and for creating a professional cover for my book.

Hope is my Superpower

I choose Hope as the topic of my first post. In early 2020 at the beginning of the pandemic, when so many things were shutting down and we got slower at work, I had a lot of vacation time and chose to use it and let my co-workers continue to work. I took a free on-line class from Yale. It was called The Science of Well Being. One of the things we did was answer a series of questions to determine what our signature strengths were. The results showed my number one strength was Hope. I thought, “hope, really?” After that came Spirituality, Fairness, Honesty and Gratitude. There were a total of 24 and I won’t bore you with them all. It stated that Hope is “expecting the best in the future and working to achieve it; believing that a good future is something that can be brought about.” Okay, I thought, I get that, but I really thought Gratitude or Spirituality would have ranked #1. In 2017 I began a Gratitude Journal and every day, without fail, I write at least 5 things I’m grateful for that day. I keep it to one line for each entry, which helps me to be consistent in that practice. They aren’t always big things, sometimes they are just little things: the sun shining today, seeing deer on my drive home from work, an unexpected call from a friend or relative. It does help me look for things throughout the day to put in the journal as well as reflect back on my day and focus on the good things. I have filled two books and now am on my third journal. And I’ve grown a lot spiritually in the last several years, so I would have understood that being first on the list.

But Hope. That surprised me. It wasn’t until several months later I gained a better understanding of why that was first on the list. I was listening to a podcast and the guest speaker was author Tahni Cullen who wrote about her son Josiah entitled “Josiah’s Fire: Autism Stole His Words, God Gave Him a Voice.” It’s an inspirational read if you are looking for one. Tahni said something during that podcast that I had to stop and write down. She said “to choose to hope, in what is good, that God is good, that the future is good, that you can declare and speak life over the situation, to do that is to risk disappointment, but to not hope is to choose disappointment.”

Wow! As soon as I heard that it was an “aha” moment for me. And I think the key word in that is “choose.” I choose to hope in all of those things, to seek the good in people, circumstances, situations and in God’s goodness. I don’t always get it right, sometimes I fall flat on my face. But then I choose to stand up and seek Hope again.

So yes, I believe Hope is my Superpower.