Move
Forward Within a Loss
When my mom died in 2013, I naturally wanted to preserve her memory. I brought home many of her lovely bird figurines, and already had a collection of vintage photos and books from her side of the family. Dozens of beautiful sympathy cards had arrived in my mailbox. With all of these poignant mementos of her life, I decided to dedicate a bookcase in my bedroom as a memorial to her. I did eventually tuck away the cards into a basket, but then filled that space with vintage glassware that I brought home from her house the following summer.
After Christmas last month, I thought about where to put some of the pretty gifts I had received from my children.
To make room and to signify a shift in focus from old to new, I decided to pack away much of what was on the top three shelves of the bookcase.
Bittersweet, for sure, but it was time. There are still so many beautiful memories of her around my home. She will
not be forgotten, visually or otherwise.
As I wrapped the fragile items and put them into boxes, I started thinking of the concept of moving forward within a loss. Why
do I say “within” instead of “after”? The initial loss or
stress might be the death of a loved one, a divorce or other intimate
relationship breakup, an empty nest after years of child raising, a downward career change, a move from a
familiar home, a health setback, a betrayed friendship, a cataclysmic
change of lifestyle or worldview, loss of status or reputation, traumatic abuse from others
(emotional, physical, sexual, etc.), or whatever else. While this may
at first be seen as a single event, we continue to live with the
repercussions for far longer. So the loss may actually be a long
process that we live within.
As
I thought about this, I realized that there are several healthy ways
that we can move forward.
Be
aware of your feelings and be kind to yourself.
Loss
often brings out fear, sadness, anxiety, insecurity, guilt, and other
troubling emotions. How are you processing these?
If you have faced multiple losses or serious disappointments in a short period of time, this can get quite complicated. I've been known to lump all of my assorted griefs from many areas of life into one pile and try to deal with them as a pack. That can paralyze the soul. I realize now that I need to face each one individually for what it is. This is actually more manageable and productive. My soul is beginning to shine again.
Are you taking care of yourself through nutrition,
sleep, exercise, fresh air, the beauty of nature and
art,
music,
fun times, friendship, and other life-enhancing practices?
Have you drifted into any harmful attitudes or practices that will drag you farther down into a spiral of despair? A bit of solitude can be a balm to the soul, but isolation can be deadly. So can addiction, bitterness, and giving up on the basics of life. If you find yourself sliding into a pit, ask for help!
Many people just try to slog on through life and ignore the pain. Have you
given yourself permission and time to grieve, even when it is
inconvenient?
My
friend Abigail moved to Japan last spring. She and her husband
had lived there for several years a while back, but this latest move
has been a tough transition, especially with two young children. She
recently wrote on Facebook: “Most
of the time I'm okey-dokey with our adventuring. It took me a good
long while to come round to this particular Japan move, but when God
opened my heart to the prospect of joy in it, I jumped in. Again.
Both feet. And brain. And heart. And all the rest. So I'm not
regretting. I'm not saying a forceful no. Or even a polite no thanks.
But my heart hurts sometimes. I think this is normal for every
nomadic person. Maybe. Or maybe not. I can really only speak for
myself, but after reading others' blogs and thoughts on this
lifestyle, it seems as if you really do need to give yourself room to
breathe and grieve and to find peace for the moment and to give
thanks for each snowflake.”
Surround
yourself with caring people.
Family
members and friends can be a real healing balm in a time of crisis. I am so thankful for the people who have gathered around our family in our many times of crisis. However, not everyone will understand your pain. Some will not know what to say.
Some may say something that comes across wrong. I get that. They
might need a little help from you to know what you need them to say
and do.
I don't expect everyone to rally around with quite the
same skill or intensity. I know they are there, and that if I ask
them specifically for something I need, they will usually come
through with compassion as they are able.
Unfortunately, there are
also toxic people out there who don't really care at all, and who may
even take advantage of a griever's vulnerability. Some people can be
just plain cruel, either intentionally inflicting additional pain, or
just being so self-centered that they create unreasonable demands because they are jealous of your diverted attention. You are
under no obligation to listen to them or even spend time around
adults who continue do this. Children are another matter, of course,
especially when it comes to feeling left out. They need special care
of their own, especially if they too are grieving, as well as a bit
of gentle explanation about what is going on with you.
You
may wish to meet with a pastor and/or a professional therapist
to help you through the grieving and transitioning process. Both kinds have
been helpful to me, though some have been better suited for my needs than others.
You
don't have to stick with one if it isn't working. Ask around for
recommendations. You are the one who knows what is working or not,
and you have choices.
Lisa
Grace Byrne of Well Grounded Life quotes a woman in Rwanda about her
experience after the horrible genocide of 1994 when 800,000 people
(10% of the population) were slaughtered:
"We
had a lot of trouble with western mental health workers who came here
immediately after the genocide and we had to ask some of them to
leave. They came and their practice did not involve being
outside in the sun where you begin to feel better. There
was no music or drumming to
get your blood flowing again. There
was no sense that everyone had taken the day off so that the entire
community could come together to try to lift you up and bring you
back to joy. There
was no
acknowledgment
of the depression as
something invasive and external that could
actually be cast out again. Instead
they would take people one at a time into these dingy little rooms
and have them sit around for an hour or so and talk about bad things
that had happened to them. We had to ask them to leave."
I
have also found support on-line with forums and blogs for those who
are facing similar issues as I am. I have an e-mail group list
of trusted family and friends I can contact if I need extra emotional
support or prayers. I value their input and I've gotten a lot of great
advice. I call them my caring circle.
Understand
the different ways that people process loss at different times.
The morning after my mother died, I flew up home. Everyone was in shock, but there was much to be done to
prepare for the funeral. I was in the best emotional shape to
concentrate on that, partly because of my personality and partly
because I had lived far away from home for so long and was not
quite as tightly connected to my mother's daily presence. My priority was to stay calm and focused, and do what the
others couldn't. I assured my family, “I know it doesn't
look like I am really grieving right now, but I am. I just want to
get through this, and when I get home, I will take the time to fully
process this.” We were able to respect each other for our different
ways of grieving. One who had spent weeks diligently caring for my
mother cried a lot. One walked the dogs and ran errands. One cooked
up a storm of delicious comfort food for everyone. I contacted
relatives, planned the funeral (with input from the others), wrote
obituaries, and practiced my eulogy.
Grief hit me later on, as
I knew it would, and it still grips me from time to time. I
am aware that sometimes I won't think as much about it, and I've
learned to not feel guilty about that. It doesn't mean that I love
her less, just that time is healing me. I also get very choked up or
melancholy at other times, and have learned not to be alarmed. It
comes and goes, and that is entirely normal.
I had a miscarriage in 1988. At first I felt just
fine. I could handle it. “The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away.
Blessed be the name of the Lord,” I quoted. A friend warned me
that in a week or so, a wave of hormones might hit and send me into
emotional upheaval. She was right, and I'm glad I was prepared. Was
it sinful for me to be angry, unsettled, and weepy for several
days? Not at all! I had just lost a baby! Good grief! It
would, however, be disturbing if I was still reacting like this decades later. I still feel twinges, but not the full measure of grief. You can
read more here: 25
Years Later, Looking Back on a Miscarriage
Processing
a loss usually comes in phases. Elisabeth
Kübler-Ross
is famous for her work On
Death and Dying,
in which she outlines the five stages of grieving: denial &
isolation, anger, bargaining, depression (sadness), acceptance. You
can read more about these here: The
Five Stages of Loss and Grief.
These
stages can certainly overlap, and even if you have gone through one,
it's not uncommon to go back to an earlier one. You may need extra
help and intervention if you get completely stuck and can't move
forward at all.
Honor
memories in a way that helps you.
For
me, beyond the visual reminders that I mentioned earlier, this meant
thinking about things that I admired about my mother and trying to
weave those into my own life. She was sacrificially kind and hospitable to her
children (and everyone else), and I try to emulate that. She was an excellent gardener,
and I find that planting and caring for flowers, especially those
that attract butterflies, reminds me of her and makes me happy. I created several photographic tributes to her on my blogs. I
wear some of her clothes. I talk to my sister about her. Again, some of these
will change as time goes on. I don't have to keep doing something
just because it reminds me of her. I can come back to it later on if
I want. There are no rules here. So much of grieving is intuitive.
Those
who have gone through divorces face a special challenge in honoring
memories. Some have found it uplifting to recall the happier times
and the admirable qualities of their former spouses, while also
acknowledging the challenges. This makes it easier to forgive, heal,
and co-parent.
Honoring
memories is also a positive practice for those who have lost
cherished friendships. There
may still be a way to salvage a remnant of the relationship with
relaxed expectations, but if not, you
can still
think
happy thoughts and learn to let go.
If
you have lost a job, you may be overwhelmed with a feeling of
personal failure, and you may fear trying again. Think about what you did well, and the skills you
gained. Make plans for how you can enhance those strengths and skills
so you can do better in your next opportunity. Remember the people
who helped you in some way, and let them know that you noticed.
Let
your faith bring you comfort, courage, and guidance.
God cares, and he has a plan for our lives, even within our losses. I ask him to heal me, to lead me, and to enable me to love others well. We read Psalm 23 at the bedside of my husband's grandfather the day before he passed away. These familiar words have often comforted me. See my photographic essay on Psalm 23 here: Beside the Still Waters.
I know that God is big enough and kind enough to handle my emotions, even my anger and doubt and fear. He helps me to forgive, to trust, and to step out in confidence. I am grateful for that.
I can see ways that, with God's grace and strength, I have grown up through the many
losses and challenges I have faced in life. Think about what you have learned so far, and how much more insight and compassion you have. You can use this in the future to help other people.
What has helped you to process the losses and disappointments in life? Please share in the comment section!
Grace and peace,
Virginia Knowles
www.ThisMomGrowsUp.blogspot.com
You may also like to read:
Essays:
Poems of Comfort and Courage:
Hymns with Reflections on Grieving:
I found a set of soft pastels in the art department. They aren't designed for chalkboards, but they work well and aren't hard to clean off. This gives me a substantial range of bright colors!
I also tried spray painting some wood cutouts. I put on a few coats of paint, but the wood grain is still very evident on this largest board. I may have to sand the boards down and spray again to get more of a smooth finish. .JPG&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*)
I'll redo this sign, but for now it's hanging in my dining room. I think it goes well with the theme of this post.
