Guiding Words as You Embark on this Site

..blinded with pain, and blind to the Grief path ahead. After the trauma of a great loss, we initially spend unnumbered days in free fall, limbs hollowed out, feeling separated from fellow humans, even though surrounded by those supporting us.  With Grief thrust upon me, the experience was full-on being thrown into the middle of an ocean - thrashing to stay afloat. Many Grief-related facets - bewilderment, pain, anger, anxiety, deep sadness - stealthy crept into my being. And like sharks circling, attacking,.... as I tried to deal with each facet of Grief, another would advance, confront and take hold. 

Yet, miraculously, each morning, I seemed to still be breathing, still alive. There were mornings, early in my Grief journey, where this fact was truly shocking to me. Why had I not died in the night? Why had my life continued on this earth, when the love of my life had gone somewhere else? My mind was consumed by the incongruencies of this concept, in those early days.  

Grief felt messy. It lacked a predictable linear path but rather ebbed and flowed. There were days bathed in routine with shades of contentment; there were days I felt a disequilibrium, a mental fog. Yet, all I could do was to face forward. Day by day. Until, in infinitely small amounts, the Grief slowly lifted. There were regressions, days of hopelessness. Followed by days of healing, my recovery progressing ahead. Back and forth this went. The times spent in blackness slowly shortening. The times spent in hope, light, slowly increasing. 

One of my aha moments, was that former Grief states could rear up. I experienced Grief layered on Grief - the loss of my parents, so many years ago, flooding back. An old hurt, assumed mended, settled.  How I ached to run over to my parent's house (though, house long gone) fall into their arms, while opening the flood gates. I so desperately craved their comfort, that familiar touch. 

Another brutal aha moment was my realization that life has no rules about shielding a person, of fresh Grief, from more Grief.  Within a few months of my husband dying, my dear and loving dog died of pancreatitis.  Yet another steady companion, suddenly gone. And that dear reader, is when I learned what I was truly made of, as somehow, again, I survived.  

And somehow, I healed. 

Yet healing meant,... NOT forgetting about my husband, but rather living my life, with largely a sense of peace. Functioning. Moments of joy. But never forgetting. Holding love in my heart. And still taking time to honor, reflect, allow tears, recognize a perpetual sense of loss. While facing forward, growing in love. 

Grief and grieving is part of our human experience. It is a life time companion that goes into dormancy, until the next sad or devastating life event and wave hits. On our life journey, we are challenged to face these events. We are challenged to grow in resilience, find bravery, hang on to our rock, hang on to hope.