Grief is a journey, not a destination that brings an ending.
In the ongoing healing process we can become more compassionate
and real individuals. Hopefully, we encounter others who can listen
and resources that serve as catalysts in our healing.
The metaphor of being lost and wandering in a range of unfamiliar
mountains of emotion during the grief process often helps individuals
to see -- and feel -- the need not only to read but also to get
help from an effective grief counselor.
Life sometimes suddenly transports us to new growing ground -- a
seed sprouts and soon has blossoms, a chick leaves an egg, a cocoon
releases a butterfly. Grief can be this type of growth expirience.
Death, even illness, forces us to look at and reframe what we consider
life and what is important in life.
One day, I realized that what I was unknowingly holding on to was
NOT my loved ones but the pain which had replaced them in
my life. Once that realization hit me, it was relatively
easy to let go of the pain and refocus on the love, memories and
joy they brought into my life. This allowed me to say good-bye and
let those I love re-enter my life in some beautiful and deeply connected
new ways.
Grief is a time of rebuilding identity and is experienced not
only when death occurs, but after one leaves a house that has been
a home, a relationship, a job, or when children leave home for kindergarten
or college (empty nest), and when a pet dies. Grief can occur with a marriage, as well
as after divorce.
We must honor and work through our grief or it will not let us rest.
Unprocessed grief keeps us from going forward in life and blocks
joy in living.
Grief is a healing process which connects the present and the past
and can eventually offer joy and new meaning in one's life.
It took me a long time to realize that I will always have my children, my mother
and others I have loved and have died; they never leave my heart. There
are still pain-filled moments, yet now, they do not last so long.
Acceptance is a choice and is necessary for survival and going on
in a positive way.
In
regards to our baby and his death the day he was born, I find I now
focus not on the loss but on the privilege of having and carrying Dylan for the months he was with me.
I cannot place the blame for any lack of productivity in life on
the death of our sons. That would be a triple tragedy.
There is a deep bond -- that often needs no words -- with others
who have had loved ones die.
One of the privileges of grief is to be able to help others who
are struggling. Those just starting the journey need to know that
they, too, can survive through the grief process. Connecting with
someone who had survived the climb gave me the gift of hope. I am
passing this gift to others.
Part of my motivation in global issues is related to my own experience
of having two of our three children die. In my international hunger,
health and dignity activism travel, I meet bereaved parents in remote villages
at the top of the Bolivian Andes and in the deepest jungles of Indonesia.
Their grief is no less than mine. There is in instant bond - see the piece
Bonded pag 47 in Grief: Climb Toward Understanding.
There
is always risk in raising children. Even if I knew the outcome --
the death of two of our three children -- I would take the risk
of having children again.
It
is helpful to talk with, or read the story of, someone who has walked
this difficult road of grief and has reconnected again with life.
Each
of us knows people who have not grieved fully and have paid for
it with ill health and in other reactions. Anger and self-produced
guilt often combine with attachment to the pain of loss. This can
create enormous personal tragedy and may result in a lifelong lack
of full productivity and peace if not illness.