Grief vs. Restructuring

This may be the most important post I ever write on this blog. I'm reading the new grief book that has been in the news, Ruth Davis Konigsberg's, "The Truth About Grief." Basically, the author asserts that new research, of which there is not a whole lot, points to the fact that "most" people suffering a loss can "get through it" in the course of six months to a year without extensive therapy, endless blogging or "walking into the pain." I won't dispute this assertion. In my case, the day my husband died I knew he was gone. I did mourn for him but never longed for him after his death because I knew he was gone. So why have I resorted to blogging and detailing my life as a widow?

This book in one small paragraph mentions the "restructuring" that widows and widowers have to go through after the death of their spouse. This involves creating new lives as singles, only parenting if there are kids, creating new identities, having to learn new skills, handling new tasks, dating again and so on. This is all referred to as restructuring. I have called it secondary grief losses in previous posts but I think restructuring is a far more descriptive term.

I think what happens is that most people do probably get through the grieving portion of a loss but then get tripped up on the restructuring part. At least that is how I'd describe it in my life. I really have had a challenging time in picking up the pieces and going forward. My restructuring skills haven't been that strong and dealing with financial issues stemming from a recession and more loss from failed relationships hasn't helped.

So some people may see my struggling as grief but I do believe that has long passed and what is really at issue is the fact that I've just had a tough time living and raising my sons on my own. Just one small paragraph is a book. Funny, when I first went to therapy it had nothing to do with grieving for my husband but figuring out what I was going to do with my job - whether to quit because the hours were unsuitable for my life as an only parent.

Anyway, that is my take on it. And I guess holding this perspective I'd hope that there may be more emphasis on how to help people like me better handle the restructuring aspect of widowhood because so many years later I'm still in the thick of it with not a whole lot of light at the end of the tunnel. I keep looking for that light though...

Continued Grief Reflections

This is a continuation of my recent post about my father's death. It is also prompted by additional comment to that post from Boo, Beth, Flo and Cape Cod Kitty.

When I was in my early 30s, a co-worker's mother died. The co-worker was a grandmother and her mother well into her 90s but she and her mom were very close. They spoke at least three times a day on the phone and I know the mother had been very supportive to her daughter throughout the years including those spent in an abusive and difficult marriage. My co-worker was extremely grief stricken by her mom's death - her mom had been in good health up to that point and consequently she requested a two-week leave of absence. I found no problem with this but other co-workers raised their eyebrows in question. Why would she need so much time off?

As it turned out, my co-worker spent almost all of the two week-period of her time off in her attic going through her mother's possessions (I don't recall whose attic it was but it was an attic). I am reminded about this because of the response to my father's death, which was basically no response at all and Boo's comment that a death is a huge loss regardless of someone's age. Why do we not treat loss with more significance and compassion toward the grieving? I continue to struggle with this years after my husband's and then mother's and now my father's deaths.

My own mother was my rock throughout my husband's illness. She and my father could barely walk by that time, yet when I called them with emergency requests to watch my sons because I needed to get my husband to the ER, an hour away at the hospital he was being treated at, they came immediately and without any complaint. When my husband had his first stem cell transplant and had to stay in a special hotel for a few weeks in isolation he was unable to live there alone. My father ended up living with him because I had to be at home with the boys who were only 8 and 9. Again, no complaints at the hardship this caused my parents.

At the end, I would go into the hospital and spend the entire day sobbing. On the drive home to pick up the boys from the school aftercare, I would call my mom and talk to her about what the doctors had said, how my husband was doing (in a coma) and how I felt. She would stay on the line with me the entire hour drive home. She kept me sane during that period. And I have often reflected that I had such a hard time with my divorce because she was gone by then. She would have stood by me and probably said a thing or two to my soon-to-be-ex besides! Not having her support and love in my life made the divorce that much more difficult for me to get through. It has been about two years, and only now do I feel myself coming out of that fog of grief.

The absolute worst, most insensitive comment ever made to me about grief was said during my divorce mediation by the mediator who told me I had had so much experience with grief I should be better able to get over it more quickly. He also told me that since my marriage only lasted two years it wasn't really that much of a marriage and likewise I should be able to move ahead more quickly. I think of Boo's comments and say it didn't matter the marriage was only two years in duration. I adored my husband (he had saved me from widowhood) and I was absolutely devastated by the divorce and his rejection. Also, the fact that I had experienced the prior death of my husband and mom did nothing to brace me, strengthen me or make it easier for me to deal with my divorce. In the end, I think those events so close to one another actually made it far more difficult for me to face and deal with it. To this day I continue to miss and even love my ex-husband. Death, grief and loss don't always make us stronger. Sometimes I think they make us weaker.

And not having the support of my devoted mother only made it all the more challenging besides. I pay tribute here to my parents who stood by me in the darkest of my days. I wish my mom had been with me during my divorce but in some ways I think it is better that she died thinking that my life was okay and I had a husband to count on.

I have often said that I would never have started this blog if I hadn't divorced. This blog was my salvation from that event. I am a widow besides but it was really the divorce that plunged me into the deepest pit of despair and grief - unimaginable. I think some people think that I am still in some backward state of grief recovery because I am seven years out. But the loss of my beloved mother so soon after my husband and then my divorce was too much for me to bear. It was too much for my soul and heart to endure. There were some tough years following the divorce.

But I've survived, even after losing the house! I'm surely not thriving yet - life can still be a struggle. But I've gone on and even had another romantic relationship. And I've raised two boys totally on my own who've turned out to become pretty decent young men - I hear that in the apartment complex all the time - "Your boys are so nice," or "I really like your sons," or "Those are good kids there." Life has gone on but it has been hard and I'm not going to dismiss the challenges or heartache.

I wish it were easier for those of us on this road. I wish our society was kinder to widows and to anyone dealing with a loss. I have hoped these posts have helped others understand even just a little about what grief and loss do to the living. And you can be sure that I informed the mediator of his misconceptions.

Love and peace to all. And love and peace to those we have had to say goodbye to. Mom and Dad, I thank you for all you did for the boys and I. I probably never thanked you enough or conveyed how much I appreciated and loved you. I hope you know. Husband, know that everything I have done since your death has been for the boys and I know you must see them and be proud.

And now if I may add the wise words of author Jane Green here from "The Other Woman."

"I know that love isn't enough. You have to cherish the people you love, that saying I love you isn't ever enough, that you have to show that love each and every day, even when life threatens to get in the way.

If I may quote from someone else far more eloquent than I am, 'The greatest weakness of most humans is their hesitancy to tell others how much they love them while they're alive.'"

Reflection, Renewal and Healing

It has been less than a month since my father's death and I have been doing a significant amount of reflecting on grief, loss and the way our society deals with these issues. At work, no one and I repeat NO ONE, acknowledged my father's death. Not one "I'm sorry" or "How are you doing?" I know that I am a new employee and that some of the people I work with are younger. But not one acknowledgment seemed so bizarre and insensitive. What are we teaching our young people in school, what are parents teaching their children about life and death?

I know that an elderly parent's death warrants less sympathy in the grand scheme of things than a young person or even middle-aged one. There was sympathy provided when my husband died. But somehow this blatant disregard in acknowledging the loss of my dad hit me very hard.
When I mentioned that my father had died on 12/21 to the group of friends I went out with on New Year's Eve, one of the women actually told me to stop talking about it because she did not want to ruin her evening. I wasn't planning of dwelling on the subject. I just mentioned it because it was a big factor in my life. To have such a major event dismissed is troubling to me.

The last week has been insane. Dealing with the repair of two vehicles, getting the boys through finals, filling out the college financial aid reports, going to work, trying to shop for an outfit to wear to my father's service (unsuccessful), and dealing with all the requirements of getting my oldest to the talent contest, in addition to all the other normal duties of life as a widowed mom pulled me under the waves. There was just too much on my plate. I was exhausted and absent minded. I ended up losing the key to our mail box and having to pay $40.00 to have the lock changed. I also lost my knitting bag and all my expensive gadgets, implements and a skein of yarn from the project I was working on.

We got home from the talent contest at 2:00 a.m. Sunday (I'll post about the talent contest in another entry). I awakened tired and still had to quickly go through boxes and bags of my father's photos and awards to take to the service, starting at 1:00. I was upset with my family for being put in the position of having to jump through hoops to attend the ceremony. I felt more consideration should have been given to my situation with the talent contest where we could have held the ceremony either the week before or after that event. Again, I constantly struggle with how so few people get how hard it is to be an only parent. To just get through a normal week is challenging enough but to add on extra ordinary events pushes me beyond my limits.

I certainly was on an adrenaline rush last week. But now I seem to have crashed. I am exhausted and it is so cold here. I just want a day to myself, to take some time to reflect on my father and to renew my spirit. I am reminded of my husband's death and how there is approval for grief during the funeral and early period which gradually dissipates around the three month mark. Now that my father's service is over I'm supposed to be magically recovered, only I am finding that I'm not. The problem becomes trying to find the time to reflect and renew. As a widowed mom there is even less opportunity to fit this into my life.

I read in Dr. Phil's column in this month's "O" magazine about a woman who feels smothered by her husband's attentiveness - she lost both her parents in the past year and he apparently is worried about her well being. She feels he is being overattentive. Good for him I want to say. There are some of us out here dealing with grief and life on our own. We don't hear many words of kindness or concern or receive the support of a loving, caring spouse.

I recently was told that phrase I have absolutely grown to hate - "God doesn't give us more than we can handle." First of all, how does God really know how much I can handle? I've pretty much reached my limit as this past week has demonstrated. Message to God here - "You can stop the challenges for awhile. They are not making me stronger. I am becoming weaker, in fact. Ease up on the worn and weary and especially the widowed. We already carry such a burden in our hearts and souls." For those who believe adversity brings on strength, I will counter that sometimes that is not the case. I know it is contrary to what one would expect. But people only can handle so much before breaking.

As for the weeks and months ahead. If I have learned anything from my husband's and my Mom's death, it is that I will not stop grieving or put my needs aside because of the discomfort of others. I need time for healing, reflection and renewal with this new loss. I won't stop talking about it. Maybe I'll ask for a day off.

The dead deserve respect and we provide that with services and memorial. But so do the living and somehow we seem to shortchange the ones left behind. We are expected to go on demonstrating strength and courage. The reality is that without taking the time for renewal and healing, it isn't really possible to go on successfully.

Grace Be With Us

Words and books have always been my salvation, especially in times of trouble. I read the following words from Jennifer Weiner's book, "Certain Girls," which I finished last night. One of the book's characters, Joy, has to write a speech for her bat mitzvah. She scraps what she has prepared and wings it. This is taken from her speech but I've left out some of the parts to make it more applicable to the meaning I want to convey here.

"I'm supposed to tell you about what I've learned this year... but really, the truth is , what I learned this year is that life is hard. Good people die for no reason. Little kids get sick. The people who are supposed to love you end up leaving. When you don't get what you want, you take what's left and make the best of it. Even when I did the wrong thing or made the wrong choice, my family stood with me. Bad things happen. Stuff doesn't work out. Everyone has sorrow. Everyone has obligations. You lean on the people who love you. You do the best you can, and you keep going."

I pulled out my battered and highlighted "The Five Things We Cannot Change" by Dave Richo and reread words that had profound meaning for me as I struggled during the time of my divorce and moving from my house. His wisdom is "... we notice that we sometimes have to bear more than we can handle, and we may fold under the pressure. Our purpose in life is not to remain upright at all times but to collapse with grace when that is what has to happen. Thus the fact that we are given more than we can bear at times is not a flaw in life or in us..."

Richo is a proponent of loving-kindness and he ends the chapter (Pain is Part of Life) with this:

"As I say yes to the fact of suffering, may I accept the dark side of life and find a way through it, and may I then become an escort of compassion to those who also suffer."

These words were a gift to me from two vastly different people, authors and books. I offer them out now to others in hope that they may offer healing, compassion, strength and grace to us all. My oldest is composing a new musical piece for his final in music composition that his band director wants the band to play at the spring concert. He has titled it "Grace Be With Us." Those words and feelings of a 17-year-old seem to say it all.

Nursing My Wounds

I am reading a book that is having a very positive influence on where I am right now in my grief process - "How to Mend a Broken Heart - Letting Go and Moving On - Coping with Breakup - Separation, Divorce, Custody Disputes - Understanding the Stages of Loss - Stabilizing Your Life," by Aleta Koman, M.Ed., published in 1997.

This author writes in a very clear, concise, matter-of-fact, non-judgmental style that is soothing. Her observations make sense to me. I feel validated and as though everything I have been doing the past few years in regard to my grieving has been right - I haven't done anything wrong, and in the end, I have intuitively moved along the path of healing that is right for me.

For one, Koman believes that the grieving process can take from a minimum of a year to several years for some. In our society there are still many that think a couple months to a year at the most is all the time we'll need. She also encourages that we process and feel all of our emotions, which is pretty standard grief advice. But she adds that we owe no explanations to anyone as to how or what we are feeling. She says that people are quick to want us to get on with our lives and move past our grief because of the discomfort it brings them and their unresolved "stuff." Reading that gives me the courage to keep facing the ugly emotions that still crop up. I also feel less guilty for the feelings of depression I was experiencing a few months after having had to sell and move from my home (that dark and dismal period in January). For heaven's sakes! If ever there was a reason for me to feel down and out it was warranted - the loss of my home following a pretty horrific divorce (but I guess most divorces are horrific)! I was entitled to grieve that loss because it was a major life change for me.

One of Koman's observations about the grief process is that we can go for months in a seemingly calm state, only to plunge back into despair. That provided great comfort for me because I think that many of us are criticized when we regress big time. Koman also talks a lot about how a loss can trigger feelings about prior losses, especially related to our childhoods. So many of us are actually grieving multiple losses, although others may only be able to see the recent event and not understand the depth of our pain.

Most interesting to me are Koman's suggestion for healing in her Step Two, "Focusing on the Self." Koman reasons that many of us grieving are suffering from severe low self-esteem. Again, issues from childhood may impact this. Low self-esteem includes feelings of victimization, deprivation and physical malaise. She claims it is very difficult to "get on with our lives," and "move past our grief," etc. when we are lacking sufficient self-esteem to motivate ourselves.

I can totally relate to this. For me, the image I held of myself plummeted when my second husband divorced me and then I lost the house. And my self-esteem was further damaged by the financial stress and then my relationship conflicts with Sam. The entire concept of self- esteem being wrapped up with grief makes sense to me but I haven't heard of it before. Koman's solution for restoring/rebuilding self-esteem is to focus on the self. And that is exactly where I have been headed in wanting to take a break from all this grief processing.

I've been planning to try and focus as much as I can on me for a short while - to be selfish and to have a little fun. To try and laugh more and concentrate on activities that bring me joy. It was very empowering to come across this strategy in a book on grief and to recognize that I am headed in the right direction! And there is nothing wrong with me going off for a while (even if only mentally) to a quiet place where I can nurse my wounds.

I was so relieved to read Koman's words about forcing our recovery. She says that we can't make ourselves recover though we might try to do so by hurrying the pace. I think I have been trying to force myself to become more positive in an effort to get on with things, move my life along. But there isn't a magical solution. I am breathing a sigh of relief because I have struggled to be more positive and have gotten upset with myself for falling short. I am trusting myself that by focusing on my needs and taking a breather from all this emphasis on grief, that in the end, hope will be restored. Being positive isn't going to bring me back to a more hopeful state. Rather, it will be the process of focusing on my needs and making an effort to bring more joy into my life. It will be the culmination of those little steps that will lead me further down this path!

I will close with these inspiring words of Koman's:

"Whatever else, stabilizing your life means realizing that life as you knew it will never be the same. The relationship you had, the person you loved, or the job your enjoyed are now gone. Those relationships, people, and activities organized your life in certain ways. Now that organization has changed. To live in a new reality-based life, you must create a new vision based on how your loss has transformed you - how the experience of loss has changed you as a person, as a partner, as a worker, and so on. Only by accepting the loss and its consequences can you reach understanding, insight, and the potential to move on to the rest of your life. And as you stabilize your life, you will once again experience the pleasures of living in ways that may have diminished during the grieving process."

Being Brave in a New World

I had assistance navigating the online job boards yesterday at the career center. It took over an hour for me to post my resume and apply for one job. I was struck as I struggled through this, how much job hunting is similar to the grief process. You feel like a fish out of water or trying to swim upstream. It is hard, stressful, tiring and discouraging - two steps forward, one step back. This is not a circumstance any of us signed up for - and for many, it is an unexpected, surreal shock. There are new rules and new ways of doing things as well as even looking at the world. But for a long while, we don't know what these new rules are and we struggle to fit in.

What really hit me was how hard I seem to be resisting change. I haven't seriously had to look for a job in about 10 years. And back then you faxed your resume to a potential employer or used the mail, plus a lot of phone calling. I am not a proficient computer user and am now having trouble figuring out all the online nuances and details. But I just want to do things the old way, the way that was comfortable for me and always got me results. I am floundering in this job market just as I floundered and still flounder with grief. I just want the comfort level of my old world when I knew what fit what and where. Sounds a lot like what I used to say when I would moan, "I just want him back" or "I just want my old life again."

In the end, we're pretty much forced to adapt. We have to resign ourselves to this. After a few weeks on my own and not getting any results with the job search, I sought assistance from a career placement center. Today I am meeting with them again and we'll discuss a job searching plan. Right now I'm in the dark and don't have any real direction on how to proceed.

That's what happened in the end after I was widowed. And again when I was divorced. Just have to dig in my heels and face the world which looks rather intimidating and threatening. The only major difference I see between unemployment and grief is that eventually the unemployment will end because a job somewhere, somehow will come into fruition. But of course, we all know the ending for our grief tales. Our partners are not returning - no tidy and happy endings there.

I am grateful:

1. For low-cost job searching assistance.
2. That the snow that came again is not a blizzard - but we all are sure getting tired of the white stuff.
3. For living in a safe community.
4. For the wide array of skills and experiences I have behind me - it will all come together in the end.
5. That in a week it will be March.

Coming Up Out Of The Cave

When you are in the depths of grief it is very hard to do much more of anything but grieve. At least that has been my personal experience. I am coming out of the cave I have been in as I've tried to deal with the loss of my home. It has not been unlike the grief I had to travel with when my husband and Mom died and then going through the divorce.

The pain and intensity sometimes doesn't hit you until well after the fact. I was so busy cleaning the house and had to concentrate on selling it over the summer. Then there was having to find an apartment, the actual sale, closing and then physical move of my possessions, which turned out to be far more difficult than I'd anticipated. Doing all of these things on my own was another challenge.

I'm not looking for a pity party here - just stating facts. The move ended up being physically and emotionally draining for me and it wasn't until the dust had settled that I could comprehend how much. No doubt, that was some of the reason the idea of having to relocate with Sam to another state just ended up not being feasible right now.

I think that there was much grieving this holiday season about the loss of the house. It was there underneath everything without really being acknowledged. I was terribly depressed. Having to move was the icing on the cake, topping so many losses before it. It was another huge goodbye made even more difficult because the previous ones had depleted and weakened my soul and spirit. It has involved another identity change - from wife to widow to wife to divorcee; from homeowner to renter.

But I have started to take stock again as we all must at some point. A new year and all that comes into play too. When we are grieving people can point their fingers all they want with advice and solutions. But until we are ready, willing and able we won't be able to climb up out of the cave. The same thing goes for our own advice. At some level we all know what we should be doing to cope and function better. But again, until we are able to act accordingly we won't be able to do so. When our grief is that intense we need to stand strong and tall and make no apologies to anyone. Our job is to tend to the grief, pure and simple.

Whether enough time has passed or not, I'm not sure. I just have reached the point for me where I need to move past such active and intense grief. I am focusing on mindfulness, attentiveness, order and reframing.

Mindfulness/Attentiveness - I just need to be more aware of my surroundings and interactions with life and others. I need to be more of an active participant and less of a passive observer.

Order - I have always found and believed that when life is most chaotic, as long as we can exert some bit of control, we will be the better for it. I think that we need to feel we have some control over our destinies, especially when our lives seem particularly out of balance.

Reframing - I need to remember that it is not always what it appears and that there are more options.

This week I made an effort to get a bit organized to start the year out on a good foot. I changed purses, cleaned out my wallet and balanced my checkbook. I felt better just knowing that my purse was tidy. After grocery shopping, I reviewed the receipts for accuracy noticing one had incorrectly run up a purchase. The next day I returned to the store and received a $3.50 refund. I went to the dollar store needing to pick up some baking pans as mine are "lost" from the recent move. I am trying to make do with some cheap replacements knowing I already own decent bake ware, pots and pans. The pans were not marked but the sign underneath said all items not tagged cost $1.00. When I was at the cashier I nicely complained when they charged me $3.00 and was given the pans for $1.00.

At the bookstore I noticed a woman my age sipping a Venti Starbuck's while reading leisurely. My immediate reaction was to feel resentful and bitter. Why does she get to loll away the morning at a bookstore? Why can't I do that? Why is my life so harder...? But then I got off my high horse to reframe. Maybe this was a busy woman just like me and she had planned for this morning and then implemented it. Who says I can't do the same thing in the future? Plan a morning off where I sit and read at Border's. And then someone gazing at me might even have the same reaction as I first did - that I am a privileged, suburban mom with excess time on my hands!

I rented the small storage locker available in our laundry room and moved out the still unpacked boxes from the apartment. Enough is enough. I'll try and get through as many as I can (and the boys can help too) as quickly as I can but in the meantime, all of us deserve to live in an uncluttered and welcoming environment. At the same time, I am going through everything and donating whatever we no longer use or have use for. Eventually I will have to face the real job of emptying out the storage sheds.

These are small attempts I know but are helping me feel as though I am back in the game of life and doing more than just letting it run past me. In addition, I am trying to observe other strategies that work for me such as reading before bed, watching a half-hour of "The Office" everyday because it makes me laugh and devoting 15 minutes to my knitting hobby. I have forced myself to get up early and not hunker back down under the covers because it is winter, cold and I am depressed.

All in all, some progress.

Today I am grateful for:

1. "The Office."
2. Grapefruit in season.
3. Having too many possessions, hence the need for storage backup in the first place.
4. The winter sun making an appearance.
5. Crock pots.

New Self-Image

I started referring and identifying myself as Middle in the Widow shortly after my husband died. I was picking produce from an apple bin when my hand brushed past that of an elderly woman shopping in the store with a group of residents from a nearby retirement facility. It struck me then as I observed the prominent veins in her hand that she was most likely a widow. And so was I. But so much younger. Still, I was not like a very young widow with babies to raise on my own. I was right smack dab in the middle of widowhood. A middle-aged widow, a widow in the middle. This title seemed an apt and appropriate way for me to describe and identify myself.

Since that time, six years ago, I've added to my identity by remarrying and then going through the excruciating experience of divorce. Even when I was married, a large part of me continued to identify with my widowhood. I looked upon myself as a remarried widow. There wasn't much opportunity for me to live a new life as a remarried, formerly widowed, middle-aged soccer mom. Because of my parent's illnesses I never moved to live with my new husband and he and I had a long-distance marriage - he stayed with us on the weekends and the boys and I spent holidays and school vacations with him.

When I started this blog I identified with myself as more strongly a widow. But things have become more complicated for me as I have worked to also heal from the divorce. There are these differing grief forces working beside themselves. One involves the death of my husband, another involves the divorce and the feelings of abandonment that resulted. Sometimes I need to focus and write about one or the other. Sometimes both sets of grief are combined. It has been a unique experience to say the least, posting about both events in my life and trying to go forward and make some sort of sense or reach some kind of closure/understanding to all that has happened. Then the old family stuff comes up too rearing its ugly head in between all of the newer stuff to process and deal with.

It is also weird to sometimes feel as though I am an old pro at widowhood since it has been six years, but then to feel all the emotions of being a new widow, especially if I am all caught up in the more recent divorce. I have also come to realize that some of the healing I needed to attend to regarding my husband's death got pushed to the back burner because the unresolved abuse and neglect from my childhood that took center stage shortly after he died.

When my parents were ill and we were handling their affairs, all kinds of long buried ghosts came to the surface. I personally had a very difficult time with all of this new turbulence, probably because I was still raw from my husband's death. I did not have the insight or strength to say no to helping my parents in the ways I did. I did what I thought I should do, the ever dutiful daughter to my mom. But at a great price to pay. I did not take care of myself or my children adequately or fairly. And my new husband was less than understanding or patient. I was having trouble managing and handling my own life and at times it was insane caring for my mother. There was a great deal of sacrifice and heartache surrounding this time.

All of these events have swirled around and around separately and then mixed together until they've represented a yucky looking, unappetizing stew thrown together of left-overs. What a mess! If I could compose a photo of how all this grief and loss actually looks like to me this is what it would be.

Today my identity has shifted. It is a broader view than that original description of widowhood. Today I view myself as a survivor of childhood abuse, middle-aged widowhood and divorce. A survivor of many different kinds of grief, loss and challenges. I don't want this to sound like I am bragging or deserve some kind of extra sympathy. There are others out there who have faced greater losses and challenges than I could ever imagine. This place where I have now come to doesn't feel as gaping and insurmountable. It seems survivable. That constant bleeding wound finally is slowing down a bit from the bandages I have applied.

Reality Check

GF jokingly told me today to take a break from blogging since life is pretty hectic. Then he added that my posts have been pretty depressing lately and maybe I should try being a bit more positive. He was half serious and wasn't being mean - I got a huge laugh out of it. But hello, this is a grief blog. I would hope those checking in know that from the get go and aren't expecting cheeriness, right?

I think the whole point of blogging is to be real and honest. And for some of us, this place we have created is one of the few where we can let it all hang out without feeling guilty or having to pretend something that isn't.

Yes, I am sad right now. The prospect of moving while offering a new beginning is still a huge loss for my sons and I. We have already been through the wringer in having to navigate unexpected change. Staying in a familiar and well-loved environment has been the one constant we have been able to hang onto over the past years.

Moving for me would mean that I would finally have to admit that my life didn't turn out as planned. Never in a million years when I married 18 years ago, did I ever have the thought that 12 years into my marriage, I would be a widow at age 44 with two school-aged children. Somehow keeping the boys here in this community has been a way of making some of the life I thought I'd live still be a reality. Maybe that has all been an exercise in futility?

Today I am grateful for:

1. Tater tots - what a creative idea!
2. Those mini pizza egg roll things my sons like and I also used to love as a kid. Another great idea.
3. The Burger King Angry Whopper. While I don't eat beef or burgers, I still give credit for a unique marketing idea.
4. Ice cream sandwiches. Another cool product!
5. That old standby of grilled cheese and tomato soup. As long as you have bread, cheese and a can of soup in the pantry, there will always be a guaranteed decent lunch or dinner!

November

My absolutely favorite poem is by John Updike from his "A Child's Calendar." It is fitting to copy it down here as it is about the month of November. I have always been so moved by these words but they seem even more poignant now having just ended my week of grief anniversaries. I guess you could say that I am more tuned into my grief work and everything I see, read or hear can be related to some aspect of grief/loss. What I love about this poem is that it describes the bleakness of this month with beauty. And that is how I am viewing grief right now. It is bleak, hard and grueling to say the least. But underneath it all, scraped to our very souls and bones, there is a beauty there as we grow, become stronger and do the work of transforming ourselves.

November

The stripped and shapely
Maple grieves
The loss of her departed leaves.

The ground is hard,
As hard as stone.
The year is old,
The birds are flown.

And yet the world,
Nevertheless,
Displays a certain
Loveliness-

The beauty of
The bone. Tall God
Must see our souls
This way, and nod.

Give thanks: we do,
Each in his place
Around the table
During grace.

If ever there was a month to describe grief, I think it would be November. The darker and colder days; the sense of losing time and energy; the desolate landscape. And yet even in this gloomy month, a holiday of thankfulness and joy. Two contrasts. Like our grief. So much pain and loss - but also when we come right down to it, gratefulness for the time we did have, the children born of that union, the memories remaining forever.

Sixth Anniversary

Today is the sixth Anniversary of my husband's death. I have never written about it because at the time of his death we didn't even have a home computer. He used a computer at his job and I did the same. My kids were young enough to use the computer at their school as well. Boy, has a lot changed in those six years!

My husband and I did not have cable (we still don't) because we weren't at home enough for it to be worth the cost. We coached our sons together for many years - baseball and soccer. He sang semi-professionally in fine arts groups and I volunteered in the community, as well as the boys' school. We had such an active and full life together. I would say that is was very rewarding. We felt that we accomplished good things for the world. He taught - I counseled. We gave back. And we still had time to pursue some of our own interests. It was a pretty balanced life.

Blogging has been a bit of a strange experience for me because I have been widowed for awhile. Yet I never really had an opportunity to do the necessary grief work after his death. Life just went forward too quickly and presented us with way too many curve balls. It is funny because the divorce with Husband #2 plunged me right back into grief mode - and in actuality, maybe I had never left it. Anyway, when I post I find it sometimes a little bizarre because although I am not a new widow, many of my feelings are those of one. In certain ways I am a seasoned widow but at the same time a novice one. Evidence that the grief journey is so unique to us all. Certainly not one-size-fits-all!

Today there is a break in the rain and I am going to work at the storage shed. While there, I hope to have some time to contemplate about this day. I'll see what I come up with and where my heart and feelings lead me. This will be the first time that I have done that.

Getting off the Couch

The past few weeks I have been in a pretty low spot - despondent, unmotivated, overwhelmed. I was able to ride on the high needed to get through the sale of the house and my move but then I just kind of crashed. It became too much of an effort to shop and then cook for dinners, so we had more fast food meals than is healthy. Some days, when I was off from work, I just sat in the apartment rather than unpack or work at the storage shed. Other days, I went back to bed after the boys went to school and stayed there all morning. I could get through the bare minimum of what needed to be done and that is about all. The past month has reminded me a lot of those early weeks and months after my husband first died. I'd be exhausted and go to bed early but be unable to sleep. So I would read and end up falling to sleep fitfully with all the lights on and my face unwashed and teeth unbrushed. I'd awaken at 3:00 a.m. and just lie there, unable to even roll over and turn off the light. I've had numerous nights like that over the past month.

I guess there is truth to the fact that new losses reactivate old losses. There has been tremendous anguish over having to move from our home and I have found myself still struggling with feelings of pain from the divorce. In a way my emotional upset has immobilized me. I am grieving the loss of my home, the end of my marriage, the end of the life I had with my first husband which was symbolized by our home.

I am aware of all of this - kind of like a person standing outside of myself and observing. I've been doing some reading on optimism vs. negativity and hope. I want to try and move past this and feel less broken. Part of it is up to me. I am motivated to prepare healthier meals for us (especially since Swine Flu is running rampant here). It will take some effort but I am game. Some of the shift is due to my accepting my situation with greater grace. I am feeling less of a failure for having had to move. I continue to hear stories of many people from all walks of life struggling right now, having to downsize or losing their homes. I've done the best I can as a mom who has dealt with the death of a spouse, being divorced by another and then having the Recession hit all within a five-year period. Believe me, since my husband's death we have been struggling to make ends meet - I wasn't out buying clothes or cars or going on vacations. I was just a middle-class, middle-aged mom doing the best I could to survive and raise my sons on my own.

So with that acceptance has come some peace. And the depression has lifted. And I am making an effort to be more positive and hopeful. And I am starting to do more. And even though there isn't enough time in the day, I am doing as much as I can with the time I have and that is about the best anyone can do.

Today I am grateful:

1. For pumpkins.
2. For my job - it saved me from staying in bed all day on some days.
3. For picnic baskets (what made me think of this I don't know but they're pretty cool even though summer had ended).
4. For the scarf look everyone is wearing these days - the long, skinny scarves wrapped a couple of times around your neck.
5. For the smell of Noxema skin cream/cleanser.

Ramblings

What a horribly depressing, selfish, poor pity me post yesterday. It was a good thing I drove my son to club volleyball in the evening. It is held in the town next to us but a good half hour away. Since it was raining, I did not want my son to drive the van so late (practice ended at 10:00 p.m.). It is also where my dad lives in his facility. So after dropping my son off, I spent some time with my father watching him play cards. Then there was a little time left to pop into Borders where I browsed the craft books, new calendars and self-help section.

I am always drawn to the books about self-actualization and the Law of Attraction. Basically, the theory presented in them is that I have created the current life I am living by the thoughts I've had because like energy attracts like energy. In regard to my financial crisis, I should not be reflecting/referring to my debt and bills. Rather, I should be thinking such thoughts as "My prosperity will be increasing soon" and "My life will be improving," etc. A lot of positive self-visualization stuff too.

I do have to say that after flipping through some of these books I was somewhat inspired and my mood improved a little. But I just struggle with these concepts overall. They trouble me. Because I believe (and this is also based on experience) that there are times when life is or seems impossible to manage/get through/tolerate/survive. Certainly people affected by natural disasters did not wish or think them upon themselves. Surely I never wanted my husband to die and thinking such thoughts led him to the cancer. Isn't it irresponsible of me to stop focusing on the financial setbacks of my life right now? How can I not think of them if they are such a significant aspect of how we are living?

I actually think the books I was looking at last night are written for those people lucky enough to be only worried about what to make for dinner or where to go on vacation. I need a meatier book that deals with real catastrophe and problems. Like dealing with the financial aftermath of your husband's death when there wasn't sufficient life insurance to cover the bills. Or, for any middle-aged folks out there having to grapple with the current unemployment nightmare, or loss from divorce.

There are problems in life and then there are real problems. I should have hit the grief/loss section to see what new books are out on the topic. Mine are all six years old. Have they come up with any new theories about managing and living with heartache?

The reason all these new age book ideas perplex me is that they are all full of nice ideas in theory - but they never explain how to get from point A to point B. I would surely like to think more positive and optimistic thoughts but when you are in survival mode just trying to figure out how to feed the kids, it is not so easy.

I decided to create another Blog titled "Plunged into Poverty." I think for me at least, that my grief/loss journey has been complicated by other issues besides the death of my husband. It gets difficult to sometimes separate the differing aspects of my grief. So I figure maybe it would be easier to have a blog just for the grief/loss feelings related to death and relationships and then one in which I can describe the financial burdens going on. Anyway, it is just an idea for now. I'll try it out and see how it goes.

I once told my therapist that it is hard enough just trying to get by as a widow. Having to cope with the other losses has just put me over the top. I also find a certain weariness that has settled in from my having been widowed a number of years now. True, I was remarried for two of the six years following my husband's death. But we weren't living together and the eventual divorce probably had more of a negative impact on me than my husband dying. It pretty much took the wind out of my sails to have to suffer such a loss so closely following my husband's death. In a way, I feel more suspect and wary of the world than I ever have! Talk about getting kicked when you're down. I also just recently read that the older you are, the harder it is to bounce back from life's curveballs.

A woman who responded to one of my posts put it very astutely when she said that the grief doesn't really go away with time - rather it just gets different. And I am also realizing that part of my personal challenge in facing all of this, comes from not having a great deal of support to rely on. Going this road alone has been exceedingly challenging for me, as well as a source of continual sadness. In getting to know more about myself as I face these life challenges, I am aware that I need a partner on this life road. I need someone to lean on. I want someone to lean on me. I want to share a bed with a man. I want to cook for a family again and to deal with all the conflict and stress that living with another person entails. I have not done well on my own. But I don't want to get down on myself for that. It is who I am and I'm trying to acknowledge that.

So where have all these rambling thoughts taken and led me?

1. I need a vacation. I need to go somewhere by myself to reflect and have time to devote to just me.

2. I need to somehow figure out how to balance the grief of the past with hope for the future. That truly seems to be the key in all of this. Maybe if I can figure that out I'll be able to write my own self-help book.

Grief Recovery Formula

One would think that after all I have gone through the past six years that I would possess some sort of special knowledge or golden key in regard to surviving grief. But I am finding the opposite is true. The more I experience, the less I seem to understand about grief/loss and the more complex it is to me.

So in six years I have dealt with the following life changing events and losses:

1. Cancer of spouse over three year period. Includes one bone marrow transplant.
2. Two failed attempts at IVF (started when we were told my spouse had beaten the cancer - I went through the last implantation on my own while my husband was in the hospital and was told the pregnancy had not taken two weeks before my husband died - I never told him and soon after, he was in a coma).
3. Death of spouse.
4. Youngest son's diagnosis with a potentially fatal heart condition just one year after spouse's death. (Diagnosis was revoked after seven months of medical investigation, including genetic testing).
5. Financial hardships.
6. Illness and caretaking of parents. (Includes taking parents to doctor visits, eye surgeries and helping them move into two assisted living facilities).
7. Being an "only" parent.
8. Courtship and remarriage.
9. My Mom's illness and death to colon cancer.
10. My father's continued health issues (near death numerous times).
11. The cleaning out and sale of my childhood home.
12. Discord in my second marriage mostly dealing from the fact that he was a 50-year-old-never-married guy who lacked the patience and tolerance to take on a ready-made family.
13. The miserable period of my divorce when my second husband refused to speak with me or make any attempt at reconciling.
14. Financial ruin from the divorce.
15. Difficulties in finding a job when the Recession hit.
16. Foreclosure.
17. Selling five bedroom home of 19 years.
18. Packing and moving into two-bedroom apartment less than half the size of my home.
19. Dating issues from being back in a relationship while carrying tremendous baggage.
20. Weird family dynamics that were stirred up with the illnesses of the parents, including strained relations and lack of contact with siblings.

This list is tipped and greatly out of balance. After my spouse's death, I was bombarded with circumstances that were challenging to handle on my own as a widowed, middle-aged mom (secondary grief losses). No doubt, all the care-taking responsibilities that occurred with my parents were the hard luck of being a middle-aged adult. The fact that I was a new widow was unfortunate. I was having a hard enough time trying to get back on my feet after my spouse's death and here I was undertaking care-taking duties at a time when I should have been focused on myself and my boys. Just a sad twist of fate. In my case, I would have to say that all the stuff that came after my spouse's death was far more painful and challenging to me than his actual death.

I have two shelves full of grief books and have worked in the field as a mental health counselor. But all I know for certain at this point about grief is that there is no guide book we can follow - there are no magical steps we can take to get us through it. It is an individual and unique process. I think it is not about getting over the grief but about incorporating a new identity with the person you have become since your losses. And the only way to get to that point is to keep living and bravely facing the days ahead of you.

There need to be periods of self-reflection, processing and solitude. At least, that is my take on this whole thing. Right now, I just want to be by myself to reflect on my failed marriage and the loss of our home. I need to sit with those losses and let the sadness consume me. I want to have the time and to take the time to feel the pain of what is now gone from my life.

Even though I know there is not really any kind of guide or formula to follow, the following is just what I think happens to people surviving grief/loss in terms of steps and growth:

Widow in the Middle's formula for grief recovery =

Time + Feeling the Pain + Self-Reflection/Processing + Self-Awareness + Willingness to See Oneself as a New/Different Person + Growth = Person who has become a Survivor with an Expanded Identity

I am beginning to understand all those analogies to butterflies. Perhaps it is not so much how we get through the period of intense grief/loss, but how we emerge into the people we become after facing tragedy.


Today I am grateful:

1. For migraine medicine (I know I've put this down before but I am really grateful it exists because I have severe headaches often and regular aspirin doesn't cut it).
2. For my boys' willingness to accept the situation we are in with courage and dignity.
3. For all that I have materially, even when it is less than what I used to have - it is still enough for us to get by.
4. For the reality that bad times don't last (there is change and flux in all things).
5.

Living Among the "Untouched"

I had a productive and interesting session with my grief therapist today. She brought up an aspect of grief that she has encountered repeatedly in her practice. People who have not experienced loss are hit like a ton of bricks when it touches them. She said that these individuals tell her that they were totally unaware of how much loss hurts and that they did not appropriately respond to others in the past because they just didn't know. "So this is how it feels," they moan! "How could I have ever told my friend/sister/brother/mother/co-worker to get over themselves, stop being so self-centered, to move on and deal with it?" They admit they were insensitive.

My therapist added that it is hard for people to have effective relationships when one of the couple has experienced significant grief/loss and the other has not. We were talking about my second marriage and she said that it is like one person always trying to fit a square peg into a round hole when explaining their feelings or perspective. She doesn't believe that couples have to be on the same level of shared life experiences or that their losses have to be the same (spouses dying for example). But she does believe that experiencing grief/loss has the potential to profoundly cause us to grow. And that there has to be some level of that shared kind of growth for a relationship to work. It is her opinion that one of the reasons for the failure of my second marriage is just because of this factor. My second husband led a pretty charmed life (and he had never been in any long-term relationships either). We just weren't matched up on a mutually similar level in terms of the hardships we'd faced over our lives. Nor did we share a compatible level of psychological insight (another factor my therapist finds couples needing to share). Sad but true.

My experience of widowhood has continued to make me feel jaded and frustrated as I continue to interact with those people lucky to have not faced much loss in their lives. I don't seem to be able to connect with them. It is difficult to explain my life views or experiences. They don't want to listen and they don't understand. It is a tough hurdle to face every day.

Today I am grateful:

1. For seeing the display of carved pumpkins in the window of a florist - it was so simple and cute. Just a large number of pumpkins on shelves against a black background.
2. To be able to have someone to talk to in person who does get what I feel and has always told me that what I feel I am entitled to feel.
3. For the rain we have been having. I love the rain because it makes us appreciate the sunny days more and it slows us down to get chores done inside.
4. For living in a safe community.
5. For the $5.99 Friday pizza special.

Asking for Help

Grieving people should not be expected to ask for help - it is an unreasonable and unfair demand. I remember in the first weeks of my widowhood reading in a couple of grief manuals to ask specifically for what I wanted/needed. My thought was "Now I have to do this too?" Another job to add to the already large pile of tasks I still have to get through - completing insurance/medical paperwork, figuring out the finances, arranging the funeral/memorial services, dealing with my grief, parenting young sons also grieving... At that time having to ask for help felt like an intrusion and almost a slap to my face. But I went ahead and did it anyway. The results were far from what the grief books predicted. Instead of people saying sure they'd do this or that for me, I experienced the complete opposite with the people I asked refusing to do what I'd requested!

Here is an example (one of many and I'll only relate this one). My husband died on Oct. 25th. We live on a heavily wooded, double lot. Come fall, there is a lot of leaf raking to get through. A mom at the boy's school called me about a week after the death to bring a group of parents and kids over to do the raking. I didn't want it done for a number of reasons. For one, it was very early in the grief process for me and even the thought of a bunch of people in my yard raking was something I could not handle - I needed solitude and privacy. I kept thinking that people would need to come in to use the bathrooms and would I need to provide drinks/hot chocolate for the kids? I just couldn't handle the intrusion and at the same time wanted to do all of the raking myself. It had been a job my husband and I had shared for 11 years together and I wanted to do it with him "by my side" one last time. The thought of the physical strain/exercise in the cold autumn air appealed to me greatly.

Even though I owed this woman absolutely no explanation, I tried to explain all of these thoughts after a number of days fretting about it. She didn't seem to understand my reasoning - in fact, she was taken aback. I remember offering her some other options of how she might assist me but it seemed as though all that she wanted to do was the raking. She was so pleased with herself for making the offer. So, after a number of times being similarly shot down, I just stopped asking and did what needed to be done by myself.

Suggestions for offering assistance to the grieving:

1. Go ahead and bake that casserole but remember to bake another at the six-month, year and year and a half anniversary marks too. Support pretty much seems to dry up after the first three months and I found that I needed it the most long after the early grief period. None of us had an appetite until after the first three months anyway. You don't know how much I longed for those casseroles a year later when we were eating again and I was working and struggling to juggle being an only parent!
2. Ask what you can specifically do and offer your assistance. Many of us have great difficulty requesting help. Don't wait for the griever to ask - offer it and be on the ready to say "yes" even though it is not what you might have expected doing.
3. If the griever has children, offer to take the kids to an event, activity or even to babysit a night or too. Another school mom ended up doing the nicest thing for us when she called at Christmas and offered to take my two boys with hers to the new Disney movie out. It was a rare escape from our painful reality for all of us.
4. Gift cards to local restaurants were very much appreciated because I could use them later on. It was also nice for all of us to have a night out because it forced us to do so.
5. Although we got a ton of sympathy cards in the beginning, it would have been so nice to have received a message of support later on in the mail.
6. Wine is always good to give if the griever does not have an objection.
7. JUST LISTEN - refrain from offering advice.
8. Gifts such as a certificate for a massage or pedicure would be unexpected but a nice change of pace from the casseroles.
9. I also would have loved anything homemade involving chocolate! Candy would have been a close second.
10. One day I came home to find the gift of a hand-knitted prayer/comfort shawl on my doorstep - that was a lovely surprise!

My guy friend is currently estranged from his only living close relative (his older sister) whom failed to contact him in any way during the painful period of his divorce. He finds her behavior unforgivable at this point.

11. All she needed to do was send him an email or call him with the message of "I'm thinking of you and am so sorry for what you are going through."


Today I am grateful:

1. That it is raining because it forces everyone to slow down a little.
2. That I have the day off from work.
3. For a day to catch up on laundry, knit a little and just be.
4. That we have had enough food to eat.
5. That we have health insurance (although it is costing a pretty penny).

Ravaged Heart and Soul

WARNING - READ WITH CAUTION - VERY GLUM, SAD WORDS AHEAD

I have been struggling with the following topic and have debated whether to post on it at all. But after much soul searching I am going to release it from my heart and out to the Universe, where I hope it will somehow come back to me in the form of wisdom and relief. The issue that follows has wounded my heart far more than the death of my husband and the divorce of the second. After all the grief work I have done on my own and with my counselor, what I have finally come to is that I never even had to have these grief experiences to feel the worst pain I could feel - it was already there, buried under all the grief of the past years - waiting to be finally uncovered.

I speak about my family of origin issues. Suffice it to say, my three siblings and I grew up in an abusive, neglectful home and today I am sure we would most likely have been removed and raised by the state. Soon after my husband's death, my parent's health greatly declined (mental and physical) and my local sister, brother and I became involved with their caregiving. I had always been extremely close to my mother and concentrated my care on her. My sister and brother concentrated on my father's needs. When my mom died in August, 2007, the fragile family bonds we had maintained over the years fell apart. I also did not want to pretend anymore that we were close siblings, when we were not.

But all of this greatly breaks my heart because somewhere, somehow while growing up, I developed the strong ideal that a family always watches out, cares for, and defends its own. What my reality was, however, is that is not the case within my family unit. For years I harbored strong grudges against both of my brothers for failing to send a card or flowers when my husband died. I felt it was the very least they could do, having known him for 13 years. After his death, there were no casseroles, offers of help with the house maintenance or playdate suggestions for my two young sons, ages 9 and 10. It would have been nice to have had them over for a weekend to interact with their cousins and give their poor, overwrought mom a break/rest.

As the drama of my divorce and subsequent foreclosure took root, there were again no offers of support. And I guess all I really ever wanted was some measure of emotional caring/compassion. But my brother and sister seemed to side with my ex-husband and defend his position ("He thought he did enough" from my sister, while my brother went on about how difficult it must have been for my ex to take on a readymade family made up of two teen boys).

What has hurt the most is the lack of any minimal emotional support since both sibs have known of the foreclosure. I have never asked for financial help nor do I expect it. But what I do crave is a small amount of emotional kindness and acknowledgment. The last time I saw either of my sibs (the third lives in Hawaii) was at Easter and we discussed the foreclosure. My brother has had no contact with me and my sister briefly talked to me after I initiated her advice before accepting my retail job (and that conversation was stilted and uncomfortable).

About a week ago, I received the following phone message from my brother:

"Hi, Widow in the Middle, it's B. Just giving you a call that dad has another care meeting scheduled for August fourth at 2:30, so it looks like it's a week from tomorrow, 2:30 at [his assisted living facility]. So give me a call if you want me to try to schedule that or something or let them know. The person is _______ at #____________. Thank you. Bye."

No real hello how are you doing. No concern about me or the boys. Just a businesslike message informing me of my duty to attend my father's care plan meeting. I think that what especially bothers me is the lack of care or concern toward my sons. I know if the situations were reversed, I would have made a substantial effort to have remain connected with my nieces/nephews and would have exhibited a strong amount of concern toward their well being after the death of one of their parents.

I have been haunted by this message since it occurred and was unable to talk directly to my brother so emailed him a short, impersonal reply. I am still trying to come to terms with my familial relationships (or more descriptively, the lack of any kind of real relationships). It is especially hard now as I gear down for the house selling and our move into an apartment. My heart is breaking and I feel I do not have the support of anyone (save a handful of friends and my therapist) to rely on. This is where family is supposed to step in and be there as an emotional rock. To have to face the demons in my soul as I clear up my house, lose my status as a homeowner and move to a less desirable area of town to keep my boys at the same school is devastating. I need and want someone to rely on during this stressful crisis (and I can't say I'm even finished grieving my divorce yet either).

The single worst aspect of widowhood for me has been the lack of a partner standing by my side to face the worst that life has had to offer me (the diagnosis of my youngest with a potentially fatal medical condition; the death of my Mom and now this financial nightmare, foreclosure and loss of my home). To go this all alone while parenting and working is a feat deserving of a gold medal in stamina, endurance and strength.

And the most painful aspect of my life thus far has not been the passing of my first husband or the end of my second marriage, but the death of my beliefs and illusions in what I had always hoped to count on when the shit really hit the fan. I am supposing that these current feelings go back to my very young childhood and the painful reality of not being accepted, of being abandoned and neglected. I know it is part of the reason that marriage is such a strong desire of mine - I have a huge need to feel secure and protected.

My heart now seems less burdened having related these feelings. My recovery work is not yet completed. My girlfriend has suggested that I put my family issues on hold and concentrate on my move. That is the plan - I don't think the conflict existing between my sibs is going to go anywhere, anytime soon.

Today I am grateful:

For the good aspects of my current home that I have enjoyed over the years -

1. The way that I can always see the moon from my bedroom windows.
2. That I can hear the church bells from town chime all day.
3. That we lived in a very safe neighborhood.
4. That the boys attended excellent schools.
5. That we had a large, private double lot with lots of trees that was also a curse when it came to mowing and weeding.

Happiness on Hold

All of the empowerment books I have been reading have stressed the need to find the good in any situation, including my latest read, "Embracing Uncertainty - Breakthrough Methods For Achieving Peace of Mind When Facing the Unknown" by Susan Jeffers, PhD. Try as I might, I am unable to come up with any positives from the death of my first husband. In these books it is interesting to note that the examples given do not include death. For instance, the author might talk about finding the good in losing your job or losing money in the stock market. Where is the good in leaving two boys fatherless at ages 9 and 10? Or leaving your wife in financial duress so that the house is in foreclosure? You might be able to stretch the situation a bit and say that certain blessings came about after the death but I will remain steadfast in my belief that not all situations contain good within them.

I have also struggled with the concept of happiness, especially since husband #2 left me. Is it possible for people to be happy in the face of intense pain, grief and adversity? I believe there can be moments of happiness but that there might be periods in our life where we're just not going to be happy.

In facing the loss of our home I am swept back to the numbness I felt in the early days following my husband's death. I am functioning on autopilot - if I think too much, I'll hurt too much. For now, it is all I can do to get by. How in the world can someone in this state be charged with finding the good in their terrible situation, as well as trying to be happy? I don't even want to be happy right now. I want to grieve and mourn this new loss that stems from the death of my husband. It is a time for tears and not laughter.

Today I am grateful:

1. For the opportunity to see my boys play baseball.
2. That I had Friday night off (somewhat of a rarity).
3. That the rain held until after the game.
4. That I got a fair amount of knitting done while watching the game.
5. That I can sleep in a little tomorrow.

Use Love to Burn Through Grief

I read about the concept of "using love as a deliberate strategy for dealing with the pain of an unacceptable loss" in Dr. Ira Byock's book, "The Four Things That Matter Most." He suggests that when you are grieving to "respond to anguish with love." To do this, "each time a wave of grief threatens to tear you apart, ask yourself, "What does love ask of me now?" How can you be more loving toward the person who is dying or has died, and to other important people in his or her life? How can you be more loving toward yourself?"

This way of thinking blew me away! I thought about how I could use it not only for the grieving times (of which there are many) in my life but for all the moments in my day. If I have to make a decision, I can strive to do so within the context of love. If I am dealing with a trying situation at work, I can call on this perspective for support. If I am having a tough time coping, I can ask myself to be gentler, all in the name of love.

"What does love ask of me now?" is a great way for me to keep focused, motivated and cognizant of the power of love which needs to be a greater part of all our lives. In closing his chapter on this topic, Dr. Byock adds, "Death makes us aware of the importance of the people we love and the sustaining force of love in our lives. When someone close to us is dying or has died, we can use love to burn through our grief and come to a place of gratitude for each other and being alive." Such powerful ideas and words. I really like the concept of having love burn though our grief. The mental image I see of this alone is awesome!

Today I am grateful:

1. To be alive.
2. To have shared the time I had with my late husband.
3. That I am still searching for answers and growing.
4. For Drumstick icecream cones.
5. That it is summer and not winter.

It's Everything That Comes Afterward

The death of my husband was actually the easy part. It was everything that has followed that has been the most difficult and given me the most grief. And I'm still grieving because I am continuing to face these challenges. It is not that a year goes by and suddenly you're grief free. Maybe the gut-retching impact of the death has lessened but now there are new obstacles to face such as the constant fatigue of parenting on one's own, working, trying to maintain a home and vehicle, worrying about finances, cutting the grass, cooking dinners, shopping and dating again, to name a few. Underneath attending to all the daily chores of living is the emotional job of grieving about all the new losses (loss of income/financial stability, loss of a helpmate, loss of social status, loss of a sexual partner, loss of identity). And even another layer is the psychological need to navigate an unfamiliar, unplanned life with a different rule book - which you're still trying to comprehend. Lets throw some stress and anxiety into the mix too (the normal day-to-day stuff we all face and the stuff that has been added to your life because of the loss).

Another reality is that the living sometimes have to pickup and fix the mistakes or oversights of those who have died. My husband failed to leave a will which resulted in years of legal complications. There were family conflicts with his relatives which he should have been responsible for righting - but he got off easy, dying. I was left holding a bag of his messes that I was given no choice in but having to clean up. So there has also been resentment and anger toward my husband that just doesn't disappear because he has died.

In that first year after my husband's death I read everything I could lay my hands on about widowhood. I particularly wanted to read real stories of loss to reassure myself that these woman had survived (I also wanted to know that they had felt happy again too). There weren't many memoirs out there then - thank goodness more tales are being told now through blogging and the publishing of memoirs. But a criticism about grief books in general and even real life memoirs is that they tend to focus on the first year or two following the loss. As my journey continues I realize how much we need to keep focusing on the grief process beyond the initial loss.

What happens to those of us who have really faced some trying times and had to deal with numerous secondary grief losses? Where are the books, timetables and guidelines for this stage of the grief process?

Today I am grateful:

1. That I've been given the gift of another day to live!
2. That love is in my life (my cats, my friends, my sons).
3. For everything that has happened in my life because it means I have lived.
4. That I honored the love I had for my mother and that I stood by her side during her final days as a tribute to what she had meant to me.
5. For the wisdom and inspiration of others who have traveled through grief that somehow finds its way to me.