How to Grieve

When my mother passed away, I remember many people telling me that I needed to grieve.

Grieve? I didn't know how to do that. And, for the first time ever, Google wasn't able to help me.

Someone bought me a book from Hallmark about grieving. Maybe that helped a little. I bought a CD from a Christian book store that was supposed to help too. It did a little.

How did these things help?

Do you ever have times in your life when you just need to cry? You may recall one of the shows on Everyone Loves Raymond when Deborah needed Ray to leave the house so she could just sit and cry. Here is a clip from that episode >>>



Everyone has their own repertoire of memories that can make them laugh or cry. Grieving is taking the time to revisit those memories, the good ones and the bad ones. Grieving is lonely and it's personal. There might be times when you are able to share stories about your loss with others. But, many times, those interactions are shaded by worry that you might offend someone else who is also experiencing loss.

It has been almost two years since my mom passed away. In the beginning, the pain was fierce. My heart physically was in pain as I tried to purge the loss. But grieving isn't only about the pain, it's also about renewal, turning a new chapter in your life. And, as you try to sift through the strong emotions you hope that guilt doesn't get the best of you and your memories. There are days when your life seems normal again, and then, there are days when you can hardly put one foot in front of the other.

I write about grieving today because I am scared right now. My Great Aunt Midge passed away two weeks ago. She was very sick and had been living alone for many many years. I had a special relationship with her, but in the past two years or so have moved away and have not been able to be there for her. When I moved away, I remember starting to grieve Aunt Midge. I knew in my heart that our holidays would not be the same and that I would disappoint her with my limited visits. She had been sick for a few weeks. We did drive up to see her, and the time we shared with her was very special. I wish I had a last visit with my mother before she had passed away.

Today, my darling husband is on his way back from her apartment where he moved out all of her furniture. He should be home any minute and I am terrified of his arrival. I am scared to grieve yet I know it is necessary.

Taking it one day at a time,
Life of a Juggernaut.

Heart of Gold

I AM NOT THE PERSON I WANT TO BE!

I have always believed that when life is at your toughest, that is when your true self is revealed. Your true character is manifested in your responses to your trials and tribulations. Not only do trials and tribulations serve as the touchstone of your character, they also help create and stabilize your character. Just as a smelting heat is used to separate gold from rock and refine that gold into a precious metal, God allows us to endure trials not only to test our character but to refine it. And through these trying circumstances, He redefines us, purifies us.

So, after all of the tests, the trials and the tribulations, I should be more refined right?

Nope. Not yet. Must still be getting burned. I swear more. I withdraw more. I drink more. I remember that I used to go to church every Sunday. Look forward to it. We don't go to church anymore. I used to smile all the time. I don't smile any more. I don't even make eye contact. I used to initiate play dates and girls night outs. I used to reach out and welcome people. I don't play. I don't reach out any more.

Where did that woman go? Who is this in my skin today?

Just call me the female form of Job, you can call me "Joba."

I might just change my Twitter profile to Joba. Seems fitting.

Lord, why have you forsaken me? I used to love you and adore you with all of my heart but lately, you have given me too much to bear. There isn't enough love in my tank to care the way I want for my husband, my children, myself. The baggage of burdens are mine alone to carry. It makes my journey so lonely. I don't want to drag down others with my heavy load. I beg you to take over. Take this heart of mine. Take the grief and sadness I bear for my daughter as she struggles through her own life. The grief I have for my family as we shift our dreams to fit into our current circumstances. Take the disappointment I am faced with longing for laughter and friendships. Reduce my vision to accept this lot you have put at my feet. Help me to sort out my thoughts, to check off my to do lists, to sit long enough to write my to do list. My thoughts are scattered. My mind dizzy. My heart heavy, saddened. Awaken my heart to love you like I once did. Lift my eyes to see you and meet you again.

My Mom's Voice

"Hello my darling Andrea!" was the last time I heard my mother's voice. She left me a message on my cell phone and I was checking old messages to clear my mail box out when I first heard it. It had been a few days since she had passed away and I remember sitting in the van, a rainy day in March, playing it on my speaker phone over and over. "Hello my darling Andrea!" I wept from the depths of my soul.

I hope the sound of her voice and her cherished words remain in my memory for years to come. It is one of the few fond memories I have chosen to keep. "Hello my darling Andrea." The sound is sweeter than church bells playing on your wedding day.

Another sweet sound of my mother's voice I can hear from my memory box is from the message she had on her own answering machine. It went exactly like this, "Hello. Neither Tom or Almeda are available to take your call. We do have a clever machine that will do so for us. Please leave your message, time and day you are calling and we will be sure to return your call just as soon as we can. DeColores and Shalom."  

I used to tease her about this message. She was so sensitive and she'd get upset. God, I miss my mom today. It has been a long time since I have thought about her. It has been 18 months since she has passed away. The first year I thought of her daily and cried often. Now, there are several days that have gone by and I forget about her. For some reason, just now, I heard her rich voice say, "Hello my darling Andrea." 

Hello Mom. I miss you. I love you.

Another personal value I need to give up...

OK. So, this has been a year of grieving. Grieving my mother was part of human nature. It was painful and dreadful. It was natural progression, a typical experience that although the details may differ from person to person, we all must endure the grieving of our parents and others we love at sometime or another in our lives.

But the grieving gear grinds onward. I continue to grieve my hopes and dreams.

I tell myself, "Due to a series of misfortunate events..." or "God's will for my life overpowered mine..." or "My girls and their special needs needed more from me than a career minded mother could give." Ain't that the truth.

And, as I learn more about my daughters' special needs, I realize that each day I am giving up more. I really didn't have a choice in the matter. I once was a career driven mother who strived for success so much that my goals surrounded themselves around my idea of the legacy I planned to pass down to my daughters and other women in corporate America. I prided myself as a woman who lived above the glass ceilings. The more the ceilings would surround me, the harder I would work. I was not going to give up on that, for the sake of my own daughters I would say to myself. But, I did give in. I caved. I gave up. I ran away from the prize.

Along with that, I had to give up the six-figure income that I alone provided to our family. I gave up my wardrobe and my designer purses. I gave up my Chicago office address. I still keep my business cards though. No one cares but me. I tried to drag along my professional network but realized soon enough that the professional circles I surrounded myself around didn't have the attention span to keep up with my juggling acts of dropped balls. I give up. Can't run with the wild. It was time to exchange the heels for crocs.

Now, a year later, I realize more and more that I need to give up. I learned at my last counseling session that I needed to "Stop caring what others think of me."

Well. How the hell do I do that? That shakes me at the very core of my existence. I admit, it would be a lot easier to not worry about other people's stares and judgement and opinions on how I parent my children and react during their public explosions. My therapist says that I spend way too much energy being embarrassed and trying to 'control' how other people think of me and my family.

It makes perfect sense. Don't worry about what others think of you. I just don't know how and I don't know where to draw the line. Help.