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Grief is a Journey, Not a Destination

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Grief is a Journey, Not a Destination
By Elaine Williams

There are days you sit in a chair and stare out the window because living seems to take too much energy. Even to think about what to make for dinner is an all-consuming task. It can be daunting, feeling as if there is nothing in this world that will ever hold your interest again. The mail order catalog with the Valentine's Day gifts is a reminder there won't be any lover's keepsakes. No hiding in the cabinet those chocolate and peanut butter eggs my husband, gone two years, used to enjoy. How small and silly a thought, but how big a rip in my heart.

I had always been versatile and open to new ideas, but following my husband's death, life became a narrow focus of work and children. The joy had flown from most of my days and I worried if this consuming disinterest in the world would be permanent.

Time could move excruciatingly slow, and yet other days I couldn't account for the hours I'd lived through. On the dark days, I lamented that no one cared anymore about my worries, dreams or desires.

I hated being an empty vessel, and as I began dating, I expected that special someone to come along, fill me up, and make me happy. At that point, I mistakenly thought, things would return to normal. I'd be my old self. Little did I know at the beginning of my grief journey, my old self was forever gone. However, I wanted verification that I mattered to someone in some way. I wanted affection and caring, craving what I no longer had. My heart remained ever hopeful that I would find a happy ending, but due to some poor choices, I kept throwing myself on the rocks of dating disappointment.

With the loss of someone integral to mine and my children's lives, my sense of normalcy had changed. Sometimes I wallowed in uncertainty about my life, and the tears would leak out of my eyes to run down my cheeks. I kept those emotions hidden most of the time. I couldn't bear to have others see me so weak; it seemed too private to share. On rare occasions, I allowed myself to express my pain and anxiety. I wish now that I shared my grief more often.

One day I awoke and realized my life had never been a shipwreck and now was not the time to start. I was ever mindful that I was an example to my children, so I gathered my strength and took control of my destiny. Knowing the future was all in my hands was frightening and yet liberating. Becoming myself once more wasn't an easy process, but a slow, methodical movement forward.

I am no longer the woman I was, but then having gone through this journey, how could I expect, or want, to return to who I had been? Indeed, as the years folded one into another, I had no need to rehash the past. It was behind me as it should be, neither forgotten nor dwelled upon.

I now avidly pursue the future as I welcome life's unexpected joys and experiences. A new life and outlook has emerged, and it is interwoven with bits and pieces of my former life. I am thankful to have found myself again.

©2008

Elaine Williams is a writer across various genres. She is a mother and a widow of four years. She can be contacted at media@onwingspress.com or http://www.ajourneywelltaken.com

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Dealing with Change - 6 Steps

Dealing with Change - 6 Steps
By Don Grimme

This first decade of the new millennium is certainly challenging times! Perhaps the greatest challenge is: rapid change.

Over the years -- through research, working with others, and our own life experiences -- we have learned some techniques that can help you move from reacting to change to proactively rising to its challenge:

#1: Recognize that change involves loss.

Even positive change, by the way. For example, a job loss (whether through layoff or career advancement) means losing coworkers, familiar routines and surroundings, and a reassuring feeling of competence.

Get in touch with that loss. Experience it and put it in context with potential gains entailed in the change.

#2: Accept or reject the change.

If the potential gains do not outweigh the losses, you may choose to reject the change. For example, all things considered, a particular promotion may not be appropriate for you at this time in your life.

If the change is initiated by outside factors, e.g., layoff or death of a loved one, the option to reject the change may not be apparent. And that option may, indeed, not be the preferred choice, but it should be considered. This may lead to a discovery of creative alternatives that would not otherwise be contemplated. For example, if you and many of your coworkers have just been laid off, a healthy and productive way to reject the change (i.e., re-channel the resentment and financial worries) might be for several of you to form your own company.

Often, however, the preferred option is acceptance. This does not happen overnight. [See Step 3.] You may have heard of the Serenity Prayer (which can be viewed as a religious prayer or a secular self-dedication):

...grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change
Courage to change the things I can
and the Wisdom to know the difference.

#3: Approach change as a process.

Don't expect instantaneous comfort with the change. It's like a new pair of sneakers. That old pair is well worn in and comfortable. But it's ratty looking and starting to fall apart. A new pair just doesn't feel right, yet. But we know it will, after a few days. So we bear with the temporary discomfort.

Some changes may be welcomed, e.g., a new job, house or child. Some may not, e.g., going on without a loved one. Either way, change can be disorienting and uncomfortable or even painful, initially. But, this too shall pass.

And, typically, there are stages we move through. The following SARAH model, outlining classic stages of grief, applies to all types of change:

Shock -- numbness, confusion, disorientation
|
Anger ... or (directed inward) -- depression, sadness, fear
|
Rejection ... including denial of emotional impact
|
Acceptance ... or (negatively) -- resignation, i.e., hopeless "acceptance"
|
Hope -- positive focus on the future

Although the manifestations, timing and sequence vary from person to person and circumstance to circumstance, we must accept and move through whatever stage we are in, in order to reach full acceptance and hope. Otherwise, we can get stuck in one or more stages, e.g., bitter resignation or vacillating between anger and rejection.

#4: Develop a positive outlook.

Negativity is a killer (sometimes literally)! Stress, brought on by negative thoughts and actions, can lead to a reduced immune system and a greater possibility of illness.

In this context of rising to the challenge of change, negative thoughts are paralyzers - telling ourselves (incorrectly) that we can't do what we need to do.

Turn those killer thoughts into more positive (and more realistic) internal dialogue. Practice the following process [presented in our article on Self-Talk]:

1. Recognize: realize that you're thinking negatively
2. STOP: visualize a STOP sign and tell yourself to Stop It!
3. Restate: reframe into a positive statement
4. Reward: even if it's just giving yourself a pat on the back

For example:

1. Oh, this is impossible. I'll never be able to do this!
2. Stop That! That's not true.
3. This is hard; and I'm not sure yet how or when I'll succeed, but I will!
4. Hey! I just changed a negative into a positive. Well done!

Initially, you'll probably miss more negative thoughts than you catch, but you'll get better and better; and the process will start to become automatic.

Have you heard that joke about the tourist in New York City, trying to find Carnegie Hall? He approaches a street musician and asks: How do you get to Carnegie Hall? The answer: Practice, practice, practice!

#5: Make a plan.

Translate your positive attitude into a positive plan of action. As with any good plan, include short-term goals and timetables. What will you do and when will you do it? Review the plan regularly and revise as appropriate. [See Step 6 below.] Get started and take one step at a time.

Perhaps most important, develop a support system. Surround yourself with positive people, who care about you. And let them in. Share the challenge you're facing, your stumbles and your triumphs.

One of the best-known support systems is Alcoholics Anonymous -- a wonderful model for coping with change. [We've already quoted from the Serenity Prayer used by that group.] Find a sponsor -- your own personal cheerleader and coach -- someone to turn to when the going gets tough and with whom to share successes along the way.

Better yet, a team of sponsors -- working in coordination or separately. [A few years ago, we saw a TV news story about an entire town banding together to solve their joint unemployment problems in a very creative way.]

Perhaps that team is a religious or secular organization or consists of some combination of: a family member, a friend, a coworker, a spiritual mentor, a mental health practitioner, a professional life-skills coach, and/or training seminars.

#6: Allow yourself to be flexible.

Accept that life is a series of detours. The best laid plans...

Many times, when we least expect it, life throws us a curve. It's not the nature of the curve so much as our ability and skill to handle the detour that affects the outcome.

Expect such detours. For example, you may want to develop strategies for coping with your worst-case scenario.

Don't let the detours throw you. Simply revisit your plan and revise accordingly. Remember, you can handle this!

The Grimmes conduct customized onsite training workshops and large group presentations for organizations in every sector of the economy. Their groundbreaking book on managing people in today's workplace will be published by AMACOM in the second half of 2008. Visit their main website at http://www.GHR-Training.com and topic-specific http://www.Employee-Retention-HQ.com ... and read issues of their own e-newsletter at http://www.WorkplacePeopleSolutions.com

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Ghost of a Chance

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Ghost of a Chance
By Donald Schnell

"Is she going to make it?" I asked, throwing my arms around my grandfathers stooped shoulders, enfolding him in a tight embrace. My grandmother was dying of cancer. What does one ask in such a dismal situation?

"The doctors are sayin' she hasn't a ghost of chance," my grandfather's voice was breaking into a sob. "She can go at any moment now. I wish I could be in her place and take this awful pain for her, Don." My heart sank at his words and his terrible grief. I loved these two old people with all my heart. They were German immigrants, who had lived and loved together for over twenty-five years. I'd known them all my life as my beloved Opa and Oma.

I followed my grandfather up three rickety steps into the tiny, cramped mobile home he'd purchased a few weeks earlier in Tucson, so his dear Lyla could be near the hospital where she was being treated. An oppressive wall of heat hit me as I stepped through the open door. A noisy air conditioner attached under an open window was working at full speed to no avail.

Tucson was the big city for my grandparents. Most of their latter years had been spent in a bright and tidy little home, surrounded by Opa's well-tended garden in the tiny copper mining community of Ajo, Arizona. Like fish out of water in dry and dreadful surroundings, they were in a state of shock, fear, and pain.

"Please Oma, don't die," I sobbed, as I knelt at my grandmother's bedside. My 19-year old body was wracked with heartache. Why was God punishing my sweet grandmother? What had she done do deserve this? Hadn't she suffered enough with the loss of her sight in one eye, and her lifelong struggle with the aftermath of polio from her teens? I looked down at her 87 pound emaciated body, which the doctors said was now riddled with cancer.

A few weeks earlier, Oma had received massive chemotherapy and surgery in the heroic attempt to save her life. Now, she was sicker than ever, drained of her lifes savings, and the doctors had proclaimed there was nothing further they could do.

"Don, please ask themcan't they do something to take away this awful pain?" The voice was sweet as always, but terribly weak. Her hand groped mine, and she squeezed it tightly. The morphine the doctor's prescribed wasn't working. The unbearable pain of the cancer was compounded by the trauma to her body from the surgery. Oma was 81. She never would have consented to such surgery or chemotherapy, if shed had a choice. Shed been admitted to the hospital for exploratory treatment, and awakened from anesthesia only to be informed that she had already been given massive amounts of chemotherapy. The surgeons had also removed most of her intestines, and as much of the cancer as they could.

Opa sobbed audibly. This strong, proud man who had endured years of hardship in the brutal, Arizona desert was now sadly beaten. The tiny room was overcome with the unbearable heat of the summer, and my grandmother's unbearable suffering.

"You are suffering because of your sins," the words intruded on my sorrow, as the voice boomed behind me. They shock me as much today when I think about them, as they shocked me then. A young Baptist minister, who we all knew as the "Reverend" had entered the mobile home. My grandmother's sister, who arranged his arrival was following behind him, and several of my aunts and uncles followed her. I turned and sized up the Reverend as if he were an intruder, and I noticed the sweat on his face dripping onto his Sunday clothes, the ubiquitous white dress shirt with a slender black tie. His black trousers were wrinkled and too short over his black dress shoes.

"Your sins have found you out!" the Reverend repeated louder.

In that split second, the word "sins" triggered a flood of memories. I recalled only the love my grandmother had showered upon me, raising me, feeding me, singing to me when I was young, while my father slept during the day and worked the night shift in the copper mines. I remembered Easter Egg hunts, Christmas gifts, birthdays, Halloweens, and Fourth of July laughter with her. Sins? Oma had given me only love. She was far from a sinner. She was well loved in the community for the way she fed the poor, took care of animals and visited the sick children in the hospital. I remained kneeling with my back to the voice, as an uncontrollable rage slowly moved up my spine.

"It is only Jesus who can save you now!" the Reverend now stood at the head of the bed in front of me. His screaming face reddened, his spittle falling on Oma, as if he were angry. He slammed his Bible upon the bed to emphasize his words. My aunts and uncles, who had gathered around us, looked down at the floor and squirmed. I knew they were uncomfortable with the loud rhetoric, but not sure how to respond. After all, the Reverend was a "man of God" doing the Lord's work.

Oma moaned in pain from the pounding of the Bible on her bed rail. The pontificating preacher looked momentarily apologetic and then resumed his rhetoric.

"The hour is near. The time for sal-va-tion is now. Do you acknowledge your sins, woman? Are you prepared for Jesus?"

"I accepted Jesus as a child." My grandmother said softly.

"Don't lie to me woman! It's the devil that's got your tongue. Satan has entered your body. Those who are saved are spared Satan's torment. Only Jesus can save you in this dark hour!" Again the Reverend's words were angry and loud. Only the air conditioner argued with him at that moment.

"Woman, you are asinner!" he emphasized. Again he raised his hand and was about to bring the Good Book down upon the bed, when my hand flew up to intercept his. At the same moment, I was on my feet. I swiftly pushed him hard, directly in the center of his chest.

As his body flew backward, the Reverend let out a loud gasp, "Sweet Jesus!" His arms flailing, his eyes and mouth widened in alarm. Completely off balance, he toppled out the open door, and landed on his back at the bottom of the stairs in the dry dirt. The Bible flew out of his hand and was lying dusty under my uncle Don's old Ford pick-up truck parked in the driveway.

He lay there for a moment, as I stood in the doorway watching him. Slowly, he began to pick himself up. "This is God-awful, son! You are interfering here with God's work, keepin' that woman from salvation," he muttered, while attempting to dust himself off. He limped over to the truck and bent down to recover the Bible, picked it up, brushed it off and then kissed it.

"Looks like I'm interfering then," I said softly, stepping down onto the dirt. I didn't want this Reverend around my grandmother.

"I'll be back, boy. We'll be prayin' for your soul's salvation at Church." I watched his back as he limped off toward his light green Cadillac.

My great-aunt gave me a disapproving look as I re-entered the mobile home. I stood behind Oma's bed and instinctively began to massage the back of her neck, as the rest of my family began to visibly let go of the tension that had filled the space.

"It's quieter now," Oma remarked weakly, relaxing to the gentle touch. I knew if I could help her body to relax, she could tolerate the pain more easily.

"Why don't those doctor's use massage?" she wondered softly, her words barely audible. Then, she looked deep into my eyes. "I'm going to die soon," she said. "I'm not afraid, but I'm afraid for Opa; he will be so lonely without me."

"Your spirit will be with him," I said, quietly.

"We will always be together," she spoke these words as a fact.

Oma and I had often talked about spiritual ideas. She firmly believed we all have souls, and she was always praying to God for the needs of her family. At this moment, I needed to speak to her ' soul to soul ' as I had as a boy.

"Oma, I have a question," I kneeled at her side, whispering, so no one else could hear. "We both believe in the soul. When you cross over to the other side, will you please return to me and let me know you are over there? I mean, if it is possible and not against the rules over there, or any kind of hardship for you?"

"Yes, I will, honey." This was the beloved Oma of my childhood, squeezing my hand with affection, looking into tenderly into my eyes.

She crossed over to the other side a short while later. My mother, who was holding her hand the moment she departed, said that she could actually feel and sense Oma leave her physical body. Oma squeezed my mothers hand one last time before she left.

Several months later, back at Arizona State University, I awakened in the middle of the night to get some water. As I walked from my bedroom into the kitchen, I stopped dead in my tracks. Cold panic coursed through my body. I could hear soft whispering. I had no doubt that there was an intruder in my living room. Someone had broken into my home. Was I to be robbed, murdered? My pulse quickened as my martial arts training took over. I was not about to become someone's victim! I was going to directly confront whoever was there.

I leapt from the kitchen into the darkened living room. Sure enough, I could make out someone standing only a few feet in front of me in the center of the room. I was heading straight into them, unable to stop my forward momentum.

Several things happened at once. First, the realization struck me hard that this wasn't a flesh and blood person. It was an apparition, a ghost! Simultaneously, adrenaline flooded my body, no doubt brought on by Hollywood and literary depictions of dangerous ghosts. Then, I found myself frozen in the middle of a body of blue and yellow light. I saw her instantly. It was Oma. Her soul had returned to me, and was communicating in an almost wordless whisper. I realized at that heightened moment that she was fulfilling her deathbed promise to return to see me after she died. Six months had passed. I hadn't thought of that promise in a long time.

The shock of adrenaline slowly wore off, replaced by joy, gladness, feelings of respect and awe for the confirmation of the continuation of life after so-called death. As I remained unmoving in that spot, the ethereal body fragmented into delicate sparks of light I could almost feel, dissipating like fireworks, until I stood again alone in the darkened living room. Her light was gone.

I was completely elated. Death became for me a fiction at that moment. I realized there were ghosts. More than anything, I was overjoyed to have been with my Oma once again for that brief visit. Twenty years later, in April 1998 I awakened from a dream. My Oma had reappeared to me once again to give me a message. I had only a few months earlier been initiated in India into the Ancient Order of Swamis. One of my siddhis, or mystical powers, was manifesting more and more. This was the power to witness and communicate with the other side.

"My Oma appeared to me early this morning." I said to my wife Marilyn as we sat over our morning breakfast. We were eating fresh fruit and oatmeal, coincidentally, the same breakfast Oma had given me as a child. She would add a dab of butter to the oatmeal, to make it "stick to the ribs" of a hungry, skinny little boy on his way to school.

Marilyn's kind eyes were suddenly riveted on my face, awaiting an explanation. She was fully aware of the love I held in my heart for Oma. I had no doubt the incredible love Marilyn and I shared was only possible because my grandmother had awakened me to love. Marilyn and I had this childhood love for a grandmother in common. Her Grandma Ida had added butter to her oatmeal so it would also "stick to her ribs."

I sensed impending news as I described the dream to Marilyn. Oma brought me Linda McCartney. I saw the famous wife of Paul McCartney clearly standing with my grandmother.

"Oma let me know in my dream that she was with Linda McCartney last night in Tucson, and she had helped her to cross over to the other side."

Marilyn and I looked at each other, wondering for a moment what it all meant. "Let's check the news on CNN," she suggested.

The lead story on Headline News confirmed my dream, but not until April 19, two days after the visit from Oma. The April 19th newspapers carried the headline, "Linda McCartney Dies of Breast Cancer in Santa Barbara, California."

In my dream, Oma clearly told me that Linda crossed over to the other side in Tucson, Arizona, and she clearly told me that on April 17th, a full two days before the public announcement on April 19th.

Marilyn and I knew something was not right with the public news report, but there was no other commentary.

Until one week later. On April 26th, a new announcement came in the press. "Linda McCartney Died in Tucson."

Only then was it revealed that Paul's press agents had leaked the misleading Santa Barbara location to afford the McCartney family privacy. Without public attention, scrutiny and publicity, they were able to have the cremation done and return to England in private with their grief and Linda's ashes.

Oma had provided me with the news of Linda's departure before anyone other than the McCartney family knew.

The likelihood of this being a random event? A ghost of a chance.

Copyright 2008 Dr. Donald Schnell

Dr. Donald Schnell, "The Money Doctor" assists clients worldwide with commercial finanancing including movie deals. He can be reached at DonaldSchnell@aol.com or doc.schnell@gmail.com

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Surviving The Suicide of a Child

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Surviving The Suicide of a Child
By Terrye Harris

On December 13, 2004, my world shattered into a million pieces. After a 2 year long battle with schizophrenia, my youngest son, Jonathan took his own life at the age of 19. The day Jonathan died, I kept telling myself this is the worst day of my life. Little did I know through the haze of shock that surrounded me,that there would be many more worse days to follow.

The first six months, it was all I could do to keep breathing. During this time I believe I could have actually laid down and willed myself to die. The only thing that stopped me was knowing that I could not leave my remaining sons and my grandchildren, as they also were trying to deal with this horrific loss. I was acutely aware that they needed me, their mother, now as never before. So somehow, I managed to keeping breathing and keep moving through life one step at a time.

At the six month point, I began to realize that I had to find help dealing with my loss and heartache. Rage consumed me, rage that the mental health system was ineffective in dealing with my son, rage that my son had to fight this mental illness to begin with, rage that I lost my beloved son. I started grief counseling and I joined a parents of suicide survivor support group. The parents support group has helped me with every step that I have made on this journey. It was not long before I realized that being able to talk to other parents who had suffered the same loss, was as essential to my well being as the air I need to breathe. Through the counseling and support group I have come to understand that what I feel is completely normal, that I am not losing my mind.

I strongly urge anyone who has lost someone to suicide, to find a support group to connect with.

It has only been a little over 15 months for me, I am still new on this journey which lasts a lifetime. I have been through the first birthday, the first memorial day, the holidays where the empty place at the table stabs at my already broken heart. I think of Jonathan 24 hours a day, seven days a week. The pain is so all consuming there are no words to adequately describe it.

But I have survived, I am surviving and I will survive, but it is not an easy road. I take one day at a time and deal with that day as it comes. That's all I can do right now, that is all any of us in this nightmare can do. I survive for those that I love who remain here with me. I survive to make sure that my son, Jonathan is remembered. As long as I live he will not be forgotten.

There are a lot of statistics on suicide, I survive to remind people that there are faces behind those numbers. Faces of children, brothers, sisters and spouses who were loved by family and friends. That behind those faces were wonderful people who had much to contribute to the world we live in.

When I heard about the memorial quilt for Tennessee, I knew that my son's picture had to be there. Jonathan's picture is on one other quilt, a suicide memorial wall and in a memorial book. I don't place my son's picture and name on these memorials for me, I do it for him. To show the world how much he is loved and how deeply his absence hurts.

I try to tell Jonathan's story every time an opportunity arises. Schizophrenia,depression, bipolar diseases are serious mental illness, often terminal. Suicide occurs when these diseases become fatal. I survive to try to raise awareness that the mental health system must be improved, to prevent others from having to walk in my shoes. I look at my grandchildren and worry for their futures if they or their children ever have to face the disease.

The day I buried my son, I also buried a piece of my heart. I will miss him until the day that I take my last breath. Any joy that I experience is bittersweet knowing that he is not here to share it with me. Some days, the blanket of shock still cushions me, it all seems so surreal. He's not really gone, he is just in the other room. Other days the pain rips through me as if it will tear me completely in two. This is the way of the journey of grief.

My faith in a loving and merciful God , my faith that Jonathan is happy and no longer suffering, my faith that I will see my son in eternity sustains me on this road. And I draw comfort from knowing that death cannot destroy what is important. That Jonathan is still my son and always will be, that I am still his mother and always will be and most importantly that I will love him for all eternity. Love is all powerful and cannot be destroyed by death. Often, the world is changed one person at a time. And because of this, it is my obligation to the world and my son to survive.

Terrye Harris
http://www.pos-ffos.com
http://www.pos-ffos.com/groups/soc.htm

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Difficult Conversations - What to Say to Those Who Are Grieving

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Difficult Conversations - What to Say to Those Who Are Grieving
By Gretchen Hirsch

When death comes, people are sometimes stumped by what to say to bereaved friends and coworkers. They want to be comforting, but often they're so nervous about saying the wrong thing that they blurt out remarkably inappropriate sentiments.

In these emotionally charged situations, try to avoid remarks such as:

"I know just how you feel." No, you don't. Each person's experience of grief is unique.

"Keep your chin up." Why? People have to be allowed to feel their own pain, sometimes several times, before things get better.

"You're so strong. If anyone can handle this, you can." This statement may get you off the hook, but it puts a terrible burden on the survivor. What if he needs someone to talk to or she needs a hand to hold? Can he or she trust you to be there, or will you disappear at the first sign of "weakness"?

"Don't worry. You're attractive and well off. You'll be married again in no time." Although it seems unbelievable, a surprising number of widows and widowers have been on the receiving end of this peculiar "condolence."

When that wave of funeral home anxiety washes over you, the thing to remember is that this conversation isn't about you. Stop fretting about what you should say and think about what the other person wants to hear. People who are grieving want to know that their loved ones mattered. That their lives counted for something. That someone noticed they were on the planet.

So start with sympathy: "I'm sorry for your loss," is a good beginning, and if you didn't know the deceased well, or at all, which is often the case when the bereaved person is a business colleague, "I'm so sorry," or, "Your family is in my prayers," may be all you need to say.

However, if the deceased was a friend, share your memories with those left behind. "I'm going to miss fishing with Charlie. We had some really good talks out in that old boat. It's hard knowing I won't have my buddy with me the next time I go to the lake."

That kind of reminiscing doesn't make the family's suffering worse. It makes them feel good to know that someone else also remembers their loved one fondly and is suffering with them. The old saying, "Grief shared is grief diminished," is an old saying because it's true.

And don't forget that sometimes the most important part of any conversation is listening. The title of a new book is Listening Is An Act of Love,and it is. Sitting quietly and letting others talk about what's in their hearts can be an inestimable gift. Sometimes silence is the only thing they need to hear.

Copyright 2008

Gretchen Hirsch is a writer, editor, book doctor, and author of The Complete Idiot's Guide to Difficult Conversations (Alpha Books). She is available at http://www.midwestbookdocs.com

You are welcome to use this article, without modification. Please do not cut or edit it, and please credit the author and the URL.

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How Do You Lose Your Brother?

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How Do You Lose Your Brother?
By Julie Bradley

What? Did you say he shot himself? When did this...my head just started to spin. It was like I was having a very bad nightmare that I just needed to wake up from. February 7, 2006 was a day that I will not forget. My older brother took his gun and shot and killed himself in his bed that morning. The call had come from a niece of Sonny's wife...and I couldn't believe her words. On the way to his house my mind kept screaming that if I would just wake up this nightmare would end. If I could just wake up. But I was awake and this was true.

How in the world could I go on without my big brother? Without my mentor? And why didn't he call me? We could have talked this out. Surely there was no problem that he had that could not be taken care of. And what about God in all this? I was filled with all these questions and had no answers.

The days that followed for me were a blur. From the funeral arrangements to the day at the cemetery. Just a blur and I barely remember nothing but that everyone looked at me for direction. What would Sonny want? I remembered times we had and conversations of the past. Sonny was a very strong willed person that did not ask anyone for anything. It was always his preference to take on the role as caretaker and leader. So in his mind asking for anything was totally unheard of. I wonder to this day what were his last thoughts and why it was that he felt this as his only answer to whatever was haunting him. He was not a sick person and was very level headed and it just still makes less than no sense whatsoever. I miss him and will always question why.

I have read that a person that is contemplating suicide usually sends out a cry for attention and I wonder if he had done this and his cry just went unnoticed.

As for me I still am trying to process feelings about what happened and put it in a better place in my heart. I have gone through a lot of emotions since his death and have pretty much settled in an area of resolve. I just wish that I had been able to stop this horrible thing from happening. He was a middle aged man and had a lot of living left. I will remember not the years I thought he had left, but will remember the intensity with which he lived the years he had. Only God knows what this child of his suffered in the silent skirmishes that took place in his soul.

Goodbye Sonny and go with God dear heart. I love you. Your sister Julie.

http://aboutpersiancats.com http://askjulie.net

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Life And Grief - Coping with Loss

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Life And Grief - Coping with Loss
By Gabriel J. Adams

Coping with the loss of a loved one is probably the hardest thing to handle in life. If you have lost a spouse or parent, you probably feel that you have lost your identity and have to start over completely. If you are coping with the loss of a child, you most likely feel that you have lost your mind and will never be able to breathe normally again!

Believe it or not, there are things you can do to help ease the pain a little. Nothing will remove it completely. Don't let anyone tell you that you will get over it or that you should be getting over the loss. It is okay to be angry when someone says that to you. And guess what? It is perfectly okay to tell that person exactly how you feel! If they really love you, they will understand.

Can't sleep? Being sleep deprived makes it even more difficult to cope with this loss. Talking to your doctor about your feelings will be good for you. Or maybe you are sleeping around the clock. Trust your doctor's advice about medication. If you have a pastor, talk with him, too.

You may have trouble just getting out of bed. Going to the store or to work may be impossible for awhile. That is normal. Be patient with yourself. Although you may feel that you will never again be able to function, that part will pass in time.

It may be difficult for you when people talk about your loss. Or you may want to talk about your loved one all the time and feel hurt when others seem uncomfortable with that. No matter how it seems, your reactions are completely normal.

The funeral home may have a grief group available. Definitely go and try it. They may even offer individual grief counseling which could really be beneficial to you right now. You may think you won't be able to tolerate doing that, but it really will help.

There are undoubtedly grief support groups in your area. Some groups are for specific losses. Compassionate Friends is for the loss of a child or sibling. They even have newsletters that go out every couple months where they will list the name of your loved one and they will share phone numbers in case you want to talk.

You are probably wondering what makes me think that I can understand what you are feeling. Not long ago, I had a terrible loss, a son. I did the things I have suggested to you. No, I am not over his death. But I am still breathing and grief support does help. Sometimes I couldn't talk and just cried all the way through. But I knew they understood and they cared. It helped me not feel quite so alone.

The author would like for you to visit women's extended living facility and women's addiction recovery programs

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How Do You Cope With The Loss Of Your Pet?

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How Do You Cope With The Loss Of Your Pet?
By Beverley Davies

Losing a pet is almost always a painful and sorrowful experience. Whether it is a dog, cat or even a fish that you might have had as a pet, it becomes a part of your family. You nurture it, feed it with the healthiest food possible and treat it just like you would your own child.

Then one fine day it is time for it to reach its heavenly abode.

Many times what adds to the pain and grief is the inability of family members or friends to understand the depth of grief you feel.

Often we tend to have a much deeper connect and relationship with our pets as compared to even human beings. In such cases losing a pet to death can be a traumatic experience. Suddenly you feel a vacuum which tends to overwhelm your entire life.

It's the little things that seem to affect you the most. Right from the mornings when you would place the bowl of milk outside to missing the playful caresses of your dog when you were sleeping. You tend to miss all that excruciatingly more when your pet's no more. Animals have an instinctive ability to sense when their master is sad or happy. Most of the time when we are in a gloomy state, we find our beloved dogs nestling up to us providing us great comfort and joy.

Very often we humans have a much deeper connection with animals. Our pets seem to demand so little and yet give us so much of their love, attention and affection, that it is impossible not to forge a deep bonding with them. They are always there for us at all times providing us unconditional love and support.

Just an animal?

When you face an extraordinary sense of loss for your pet many of your friends or family members may be at a loss to understand why you feel such intense grief. In fact you yourself might be surprised at the level of grief you are currently feeling. Many people will dismiss the fact saying that it is just an animal after all and how can you be so sad about losing an animal? However, the surprising thing is that this pet of yours is far from being a mere animal. It has forged a special, deep bond with you only because of certain reasons. Many times even getting another pet after this one has died, will not bring back the same level of happiness or comfort you shared with this creature. The reason why you feel such an enormous sense of loss is because you know at the back of your mind that no other pet could possibly replace this special pet's place.

The relationship with the pet

Our relationship with our pets determines to a large extent the level of grief we feel for them. The same applies for a family member as well. If we have been close to our grandmother or aunt then her death can be a cause for intense grief. Thus irrespective of whether it is an animal you have lost or a near and dear human being, if you have had a close relationship, the death will affect you deeply.

How To Cope With The Loss Of Your Pet - ebook
http://www.cope-with-pet-death.com

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Lost in Love

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Lost in Love
By Taleah Hutchinson

Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to lose your first love? Well it has been put on my heart to tell you my experience of loosing someone I love and hopefully it can encourage you. This is my story of love, loss, and gratitude...

It all started the day of my high school graduation. I had finally graduated from high school, might I add that I accomplished that in three years. I had been looking forward to graduating before I ever got into high school. I hated being young and wanted to grow up as fast as possible. So on that particular day, there was a guy I went to school with there that was at my graduation, but it was odd that he was there because he had already graduated. Then suddenly I was overcome with butterflies when our eyes locked, I barely recognized him. And to be honest, I actually had never thought of him in that way before, he was one of those quiet types that stuck to themselves. He was in JROTC and did wrestling while in school, he was not the typical type I was attracted to but he was always a very sweet guy. Let me just back up a few steps, at this point, I had never had a boyfriend of any kind because of my religious background, dating was simply out of the question for me. I was raised very conservatively in a small town called Bend, Oregon. So after my graduation, I was driving back to my house when my phone rang and as I answered the phone and heard the voice on the other end, I immediately got butterflies in my stomach again. It was Randy, the guy I had gone to school with but never spent anytime with until this night. It was an interesting night to say the least; he actually ended up getting into somewhat of a fight because I was playfully joking around with one of the guys at the party. I felt so ashamed but Randy was so worried about me, it was the nicest thing. He called me as soon as we left and kept on apologizing to me for his behavior. My goodness did that make me feel so bad, it was as if he didn't even see my fault for starting it and just blamed it on himself. At that moment I started falling for him. Later, I met Randy's family and they were the most inspiring, loving and caring family you could ever meet. They are a model as to how a family should be. Randy also had two younger brothers, Danny and Kenny. On July 4th, 2004, Randy asked me to go on a horse-back ride with him. I later found out that it was a test to see if I could pass a potential girlfriend, what he didn't realize was I was raised on horses. As that day went on and we were in the middle of nowhere but trees and bushes, there was a creek going straight through where we went riding so we stopped to let the horses rest. Little did I know that this would be the beginning of my love for Randy. So he pulled me into the creek and let me tell you, it was freezing, so we ended up sitting on a little handmade bridge. Randy leaned over to hug me and as we were hugging he whispered into my ear, "Will you be my girlfriend?" I almost did not know what to say, yet needless to say, I said yes in so many words. It was the most sweet, innocent moment that was burned into my memory.

Two weeks later, after so many memories were made on July 18th, I met Randy and his mom and dad at the Marine recruit station to say goodbye to him as we sent him off to boot camp in San Diego, California. That, I thought was going to be one of the hardest things that we would have to go through in our relationship. And yet again, little did I know, it was only the beginning. I sent Randy off with a letter telling him how proud I was of him but also how scared I was at the same time, I ended it with "With love, until we meet again..." Luckily, the previous months my mother, my older sister and I had been packing all of our belongings to move to San Diego as well. That was a godsend! My mother and father had just recently separated and so just us girls were moving. My father and my older brother stayed behind in Bend. So off we went to California about a month after Randy had left. We were on the road, headed for the most amazingly beautiful city! We finally arrived in San Diego after two very long days of driving. As the weeks passed and we got settled into our place, I waited eagerly for the mailman to come and bring the mail so I could see if my precious Randy had written me a letter. Being that we had so little time before Randy had left for boot camp and I was in a city where I didn't really know anyone and couldn't see my boyfriend, it grew harder and harder to cope with the sadness of missing him and waiting for him to get out. Then if waiting that long wasn't bad enough, Randy got very ill while he in boot camp, which delayed his graduation much longer than we had anticipated.

Finally, after three and a half long months, it was October 29, 2004 and I was standing proudly next to all of his family and along with my mother and sister just waiting for Randy to complete his graduation! The emotion that was felt that day was beautiful. Everyone was so overjoyed to see their loved ones and I was elated to see Randy. Tears just welled up in my eyes with joy; I had missed him so terribly. But I can't almost begin to explain how much everything had changed, he was no longer the Randy I knew, boot camp had totally changed him. I was so hurt by it, he would barely even hold my hand or look at me because he had been brainwashed for the past almost four months to be a soldier for America. Based on my upbringing the wars and being in the military already went against what I believed and that was just something I couldn't get over, they made him cold and silent. Well needless to say, after some time of readjusting, he began to go back to how I remembered him. About a month later, it was the day after my 18th birthday and Randy and I were at Camp Pendleton, I finally gave myself to him. It was a moment I will remember forever. We were naive and innocent, there was nothing impure about it, well, other than our parents were furious. But I still hold that moment very dear to me and will as long as I live.

Months went by and Randy and I had our good days and our bad days. Finally there came a point when I wanted to spread my wings and explore being single in San Diego. Randy and I continued to get closer and closer after we split up. We could both be authentically ourselves and didn't have to worry about anything other than enjoying our time together. It is hard for me to say that since we had broken up we were closer apart than together. I loved Randy so much! We were best friends!

In March 2006 I went to Twenty-Nine Palms, CA where Randy had been stationed for the past several months. I went there because Randy was being shipped off to Iraq in three days. He was assigned on a six month deployment that would end September 2006. Sending Randy off to a foreign place when I didn't know if he would be returning was a horrible feeling. But I did it happily; I was the last person that Randy was with before he left. His family was still in Oregon and was not able to come down, so it was up to me to send him off. The fear that ran through my veins almost made the weekend unbearable, but at the same time, I really felt strongly about it just being the six months and then he would come right back to San Diego. So off to Iraq he went! The months had passed and I was busy working and wasting my time on things that did not matter, but at that time, I didn't care at all. I was in a stage of my life where I did whatever I wanted to and nobody could tell me differently.

Randy was able to call me several times while he was in Iraq, I would get so excited to hear his voice. I missed him terribly and he only had about a month to go before he was able to come back. I started counting down the days from when he would return I couldn't wait. On August 20, 2006 at around 11:00pm, I was in the middle of watching Talladega Nights with my new roommates at the Fashion Valley mall when I got a phone call from my sister. She asked me where I was and that she needed to come and pick me up but she would not tell me what was wrong. I was horrified that something had happened to my family or someone I knew, but the last thing on my mind was anything about Randy. I left the movie and ran down the stairs and saw my mom's car, I got in and insisted on them telling me what was wrong. Then my sister said she had received a phone call from Chad, a very close friend of Randy's and he told her that Randy had passed away in Iraq. I broke down into uncontrollable tears. That was the last thing I ever wanted to hear. I cannot even put into words the anguish I felt, I couldn't believe it, so I had to call Randy's mom. When she answered, my heart was pierced with the sorrow. She told me that he died earlier that day. I told Ramona how sorry I was and hung up the phone. That night was like a nightmare you wish you could just wake up from. Sadly, this nightmare will remain forever. It was so hard to believe that Randy was gone. The day before his death he called me to tell me how much he loved and missed me. He told me that he couldn't wait to see me and that when he got back he had something that he wanted to ask me but he would not do it over the phone. I had begged him to ask me what he wanted to ask me but he wouldn't, he told me I had to wait until my birthday on November 13. A few days later, I flew back to my home town for Randy's funeral. I had never had someone I love die. On August 30, 2006, there were 2,500 people in attendance for Randy's funeral. He was honored with unparalleled respect. Everyone loved Randy. Randy is my hero and countless others. He made a mark on so many people's hearts. Randy was honored as one of the few, the proud, the Marines. There was so much love for him shown that day. He will forever be remembered as a great and valiant warrior. After the funeral one of the other Marines that had come to support Randy's family asked his mom, Ramona if she knew who the girl was that Randy was going to ask for their hand in marriage because he wanted to meet the person that Randy was in love with and made him so happy. Ramona was caught completely off guard; she had not heard anything about this before. Ramona said she thinks she knows who it could be. Moments later, Ramona came and found me and told me the conversation she had just had and told me that she believes that I am that girl, we both started sobbing and just held each other. I had no clue that Randy was going to propose to me when he got back, but that must have been what he refused to ask me the day before his death.

It has now been almost two years since we lost Randy. There is not a day that goes by that I do not miss him. Randy impacted my life more than I could ever describe. After the funeral I returned to San Diego and my life changed. I started to see the meaning in my life and stopped wasting time doing things that meant nothing. I now am happily married to a man that I love dearly. I started my own company, Just Pictures International, LLC with the support of my husband. I owe everything that I am right now to Randy. If it was not for him being apart of my life, even though it was a short period of time, I would be lost. He truly changed my life forever! Randy will forever remain my angel in heaven! I will love him forever. I will miss Randy everyday...until we meet again...

Taleah E. Hutchinson Just Pictures International, LLC http://www.JustPicturesInternational.com

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Long Term Effects Of Loss After Grieving

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Long Term Effects Of Loss After Grieving
By Abby Lynne

Grieving is a process that starts at different points for different people after encountering a tragedy. Some start straight away while others lay dormant in shock until the reality of the situation hits home. Either way there is a large part of grieving that is unexpected and unexplained. It's the bits that you have to deal with long after the tragedy has taken place. The mental and emotional damage, the suppressed fears, distortions of the mind, all of these things are the post traumatic effects of loss.

I would like to write this article to promote the awareness of the after-after effects of loss due to death of a loved one. These are the long term effects that subside deep within the sub consciousness and psyche of the mind. It is common amongst friends and other people to hold the view that a tragedy is something that happens, you process and eventually adapt to and 'get over'. While this is the general path an aggrieved person takes it doesn't necessarily mean that after a year or so that person has mended completely and the occurrence no longer has any substantial effect. It is also common for those grieving to believe this is the correct path as they too are unaware of the post traumatic effects it has. It is normal in this situation for the grieved person to feel emotions of guilt for not of having healed. You begin to ask yourself questions such as 'why am I not over this?", "am I not strong enough to get over it", "how come I still feel sad", "why can't I move on", "everyone is sick of hearing about it", "I must be a bad person if I can't let this go". The fact of the matter is that when you have lost someone near and dear you never 'get over' the event. Death and tragedy is not a matter of being torn and repaired but more a matter of learning to incorporate the experience of the event into who you are. You are now someone who has experienced a tragedy. The loss of loosing that special person is an adaptation, not a recovery. You are not 'broken' but 'changed'. It is therefore important to allow people the lee way to find room in their character and personality to incorporate this change.

One significant change that can occur is a sense of heightened sensitivity to the fragility and insecurity of love and life. People who have suffered loss may feel more compassion for human kind, life is not so concrete. You may become more aware of peoples feelings and feel angry when people are insensitive to each other. Anger is an emotion embedded in loss that dwells long after the event has subsided. It is set off easily and often expresses itself in unexpected ways. It is common to feel angry at the world; as if it has stolen unfairly from you and that it is evil and cruel. Loss provokes questions such as 'why me?', 'why them?" and feelings of "it's not fair!" and "how could you!". The griever has to learn where to put these feelings and how to deal with them. On top of this it is also common to feel mad at the person whom you have lost, mad at yourself for feeling mad and mad at the world for letting such a horrible thing occur.

A lot of this anger is hard to express and can often lead to suppression and depression. I think it is important for those who have grieved to go easy on themselves and even more important for those around them to offer their full support. This is not always easy as depressed people are usually unwilling to share, making communicate difficult. It is common to feel as though the subject is taboo and that no one wants to hear your story, that it is a burden to the listener and unfair to unload an extreme amount of negative emotions onto the shoulders of a friend. Therefore a lot of people chose to retract emotionally, allowing unresolved thoughts and feelings to be pushed to the side, or to the bottom of the pile. This can lead to a pattern of suppression as every time those feelings resurface in order to be processed, the mind pushes them back down labelling them 'bad' thoughts. This is an incredibly unhealthy cycle as it is the job of the sub conscious to ensure these negative energies are released similar to the way the liver cleans your body of toxins. Unresolved negative emotions create a build up of negative patterns in the brain along with constant chemical releases that create hormones of anger, guilt, fear, anxiety and stress. These are the long term negative effects I talk of. Unless dealt with properly, these side effects could go on for years preventing the person from experiencing healthy relationships and closing them off to feelings of love, warmth and support. Often loosing someone puts extreme pressure on all coping mechanisms of the body in this way.

All of us will all at sometimes in our life experience loss. Death is apart of life as life is apart of us. It is important to remember that there is no one way to go about grieving, that everyone does it differently. Be aware that a person who has suffered loss is forever changed and that it is just as hard to understand them as it is for them to understand themselves. It is normal to feel afraid, insecure and scared for many years after the event. That some people will always fear losing the ones they love and may feel resilient to let love in again. So please be patient with those who have lost. Pain of loss is a healing process and a process that is delicate, long term and forever proposing new learning's. There is no manual to coping with loss and it is something that will continually pop up as the grieved learn to bind their old relationships and lives with the new person they have learnt to become.

Abby Lynne

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