The Grief and Happiness Alliance

Love

The Power of Your Words

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I’m sure you’ve heard someone say, “Be careful what you wish for!” Have you thought about what that means? When we wish for something, the universe grants that wish, whatever it is; however, how it is granted may not be what you thought you were asking for.

When you say, I know I will never be happy again since the love of my life died. When you say that, you never will be happy again. When you say I can’t afford a new home, or new car, or a trip, or even groceries, then that’s what happens. You can’t afford any of that. Now is any of that what you really want? I hear you yell NO! So why do you ask for it? I doubt that you think that’s what you are doing, but it is.

When I felt so alone after Jacques died, I thought about what I really wanted. I made a conscious decision to not ask for something specific, but actually to say, “I love and I am loved.” Notice what I didn’t say. I didn’t say “I want to,” rather I made the statement knowing that it was true right then, not some vague place in the future. And sure enough, I started noticing love in my life, love that was already there on so many levels, from friends and from family and love for things like my job teaching writing, that I had created a theatre, a school of arts, a gallery, a café. The more I thought about love, the more love I saw, and this prepared be to be fully ready for Ron when I met him. I recognized him right away as the romantic and deep spiritual love that I knew was waiting for me to see.

So how can you go about having what would make your life the best it can be? An easy way to start is to journal. Journal every day. Put journaling on your calendar or in your to do list and make no excuses to avoid writing. Start by writing what you need to do to unclutter your mind. You probably have thoughts floating around of not being worthy of what you want, thinking you can’t afford what you want, thinking you can’t have what you want. Instead of carrying thoughts like this around which get in the way of your true desires, write all that stuff down. When you read what you have written, you’ll see that it isn’t your truth. When you actually see it in writing, you then can release it. You can say “I am so much more than that! I do deserve what I want. I am worthy.” So, write all that down, how wonderful you are, how deserving.

Now, every day write the truth of what you want. If you are lonely, write “I am loved and I love unconditionally.” If you are wanting your ideal job, say “I am grateful for my skills, inspiration, and talent which insure the perfect job for me where I can make a beautiful difference in the world!” When you start saying that instead of that old story that you just can’t get a job, be ready for what comes to you. Recognize opportunities, and enjoy where they take you.

When you slip into the sadness that can come in grieving, instead of saying, “I am so sad,” or “I just can’t handle this,” get out your journal and write all about a beautiful memory of a time you spent with your loved one, or write about something you can do right now that brings you joy, whatever that is. When you write from a positive perspective, that’s what comes in your life. If you find yourself using negative language, notice that. Stop saying whatever it was. Consciously say to yourself, “I take that back,” and then restate your words with a positive focus. Eliminate words like can’t, won’t, don’t, and should from what you speak.

So I offer you this. Keep that appointment with yourself each day to write in your journal. Allow your journal to show you the beauty and joy of your life, and focus on that. When you do, when you look in the mirror, all you’ll see is beauty and joy!

Bliss

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I have been reading Viktor Frankl’s book Man’s Search For Meaning, which I highly recommend, and have received much inspiration. The first half of the book reflects on the time he spent in Nazi Concentration camps. Reading his thoughts reminded me so much of my early grief.

Early grief is a time when we can feel totally alone even when surrounded by others. Our whole perspective on life has changed and all territory is unfamiliar. We feel empty in a way, and full in another. In this period of readjustment, we can sink into despair and lose our will to survive in a meaningful way, or we can choose to discover our next step in our own way.

Frankel said “My mind still clung to the image of my wife. A thought crossed my mind: I didn’t even know if she were still alive. I knew only one thing . . . . Love goes far beyond the physical person of the beloved. It finds its deepest meaning in his spiritual being, his inner self. Whether or not he is actually present, whether or not he is still alive at all, ceases somehow to be of importance.”

When I read this, I reflected on Ron and Jacques. They always are a precious part of me, of my life experience. Whether they are physically here with me loses its significance when I focus on the love we share. That love has not and will not diminish. And that thought brings so much comfort. I am constantly wrapped in this beautiful love, and I allow myself to experience it.

I encourage you to live in the awareness of the love you share. As Frankl says: “a man who has nothing left can still know bliss . . . in the contemplation of his beloved.”

The Great, Great Gift

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In Facebook yesterday, Kelly’s Treehouse posted:  “If you know someone who has lost a very important person in their life and you’re afraid to mention them because you might make them sad by reminding them that they died—you’re not reminding them, they didn’t forget that they died. What you are reminding them of is that you remembered that they lived, and that is a great, great gift.”

I loved Kelly’s sentiment and thought my Grief Transformation Tribe would like to see this thought, so I shared the post not thinking of me. But much to my delight, I heard back from people! Vickie Christy-Stricklind said:“Roger and I were sharing a story about Jacques a few days ago.” This reminded me of many memories of Jacques and how he loved performing and hanging out with the theatre crowd, and it made me smile.

Karyn Shaudis said: “I remember the last time I saw Ron. He was standing in front of Trader Joe’s. He was talking on his cell phone and looking fine with his big smile he tipped his hat to me. I can still see him there each time I pull into that lot.” I could picture that so clearly. Ron was always on his phone, and he had a big beautiful smile, and that tipping of his hat was so him! Rev Ron performed Karyn and Jim’s wedding ceremony, and thinking of that and the other weddings Ron did, especially Isabel and Gina, brought me joy. He was serious about love and loving and making sure people were really in love when they got married. I know we were.

So this holiday season, think of how happy you can make someone you know by sending them a remembrance of someone they loved who died. Remember they lived. Remember their joy. And remember the joy they brought to you. This great, great gift may bring a few tears, but those tears of the memory of joy are so sweet!

Thanksgrieving

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We all grieve. Everyone loses someone or something critical, and those losses come back to remind us of our grief on the holidays. We can choose to deep dive into that grief and be miserable, or we can choose to do something with those memories that can bring us joy.

I choose joy. While I cherished being with my loved ones for the holidays, now I find others to make the holidays special. On Thanksgiving, I invite people to join me who don’t have someplace to go. I get the pleasure of preparing a big Thanksgiving dinner with my son Jason’s help. He loves to cook the turkey. I fix mostly the menu my family always did. And to remember my loved ones who won’t be joining us, I fix something special for each of them.

Thanksgiving was Jacques’ very favorite holiday, so the turkey is special to remember him by. I always cook it in a Reynolds turkey cooking bag to keep it nice and juicy. Even though I’m vegetarian, I know my guests aren’t. My mother-in-law Fran was famous for her cornbread stuffing, so we have to have that! Mom always made what she called Waldorf salad that was just bananas, apples, walnuts, and mayonnaise. I make that for her, though I frequently the only one who eats it (and I love it!). I make sweet potatoes for me! I just wrap them in foil and put them in the oven with the turkey. And for dessert, Ron had to have apple pie. Of course, he wanted apple pie for every holiday, and any other day in between. And when Abby, my daughter, joins us, we have to have cherry pie.  I made it one year on Washington’s birthday, and she wants it for every holiday since them. If you don’t have a big dinner, have something special just for you, even it’s your mother’s jello salad or your own pumpkin pie.

The best part of the day is when everybody says what they are thankful for before we eat. Focusing on gratitude is what the holiday is all about. You can do this on your own, too.  On Thanksgiving Day, I like to do a whole journal entry on what I am grateful for. My list just keeps getting longer. Before I started creating gratitude lists, I found that I was finding ways to feel sorry for myself and being alone. Focusing on the negative didn’t help at all. So the more I wrote gratitude lists, the better I felt. Now every day I include thing I am grateful for in my journal every day.

At the end of the day, I can just feel my departed loved ones being grateful that I am remembering them with joy on Thanksgivin

Paradise Lost

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Growing up in central California, I heard of a town named Paradise, and I wanted to live there. I looked it up in the library and saw that it was a beautiful town with majestic trees. I loved the idea of getting out of the heat in the high desert where I lived and moving to an idyllic small town. This was a consistent fantasy of mine as I grew up. Now Paradise is gone.

In a moment, homes, businesses, vehicles, and people melted in the flames. Cherished personal possessions turned to ash. What once was most important lost significance to now when life, when living through the horror, is all that matters.

I moved from Ventura, California, three years ago to Maui, my paradise now. I watched from a distance last year as a huge fire raged through Ventura county. My friends were evacuated. The home where I lived when I was there was evacuated. Houses we had considered when we were looking for a new home there burned to the ground, along with homes of friends. Now another fire is barreling though Ventura and Malibu counties.

In an instant, thousands of people lose all their material possessions. All these fires make me reflect on what I would grab on the way to run from a fire, and I realize all I would grab is whoever is there with me in that moment. The stuff doesn’t matter. I would know that my loved ones know how much I love them. I realize that I am living my best life, and I am grateful for every moment.

What would you take? What is most important to you right now? Are you living your best life? If not, start night now. If you are, that’s the best news I’ve heard today! And I am grateful.

As Time Goes By

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This morning Michelle asked me if we ever stop grieving. I responded that we don’t, but it does soften into a beautiful part of our lives instead of a constant pain.

When each of my husbands died, I lost track of space and time, and I don’t remember how long that lasted. Gradually, time started creeping back in to perspective. I would have an appointment to go to or pressing business that had to be attended, so slowly I became aware of time. I began to remember what day of the week it was. As odd as that sounds to me now, I realize I was out of sync with the world around me.

At first, I would think to myself, he died four days ago, or last week, or twelve days ago. Then I realized I was counting in weeks. I remembered when my babies were little and their short lives we measured first in days, then weeks, then months, and eventually years. That’s how it goes after the death of a loved one, too. 

On September eighth of this year, I realized that I hadn’t thought about September 4 which would have been thirteen months since Ron left. At first I felt guilty at my failure to remember. After I beat myself up a little, I woke up and knew that I haven’t forgotten him, that I had just started expanding my life to think of something else too, and that was good.

My father died in 1989. Although that was almost thirty years ago, I still grieve him, but gently. Veteran’s Day, November 11, was always his favorite holiday as he fought in World War II and was very active in the Veterans of Foreign Wars. So every time I see someone with a VFW cap on or see a buddy poppy or hear that national anthem, I remember my Dad, how proud he was, and how proud I was of him. This is a softer kind of grief. When you can reflect on your loved one and smile, and instead of pain, you remember love.

The fresher your grief, the more your heart aches. And as time goes by, that ache will transform to a smile.