Mourning through the holidays is a tricky one.
It's one of those times where most of us won't be able to escape being around others. Being around those Jolly ones and the Grinches. It is also the time when most people will forget that we are mourning. It's the awkward moment where we are feeling the ocean weight of our loss but are expected to smile regardless.
To celebrate or not to celebrate? That is the question.
Your answer may differ from mine but mine is to celebrate. I'm not exactly Jolly but I've always loved Christmas. Those I've lost have loved Christmas. While I'm still here, I will celebrate it for them. I know regardless of where I am or what I'm doing I will be grieving. I know the world will not stop. However, I can make a plan of action just in case Demons attack and I've hit rock bottom.
This year I may not be encountering a whole group of people and may be just celebrating with my little nest of a family. However, you never know who may be knocking at your door or who's door you may be knocking on. Realistically people like to visit people on the holidays.
So I'm devising a plan. I will give you the steps that I'm taking and if you want to too go for it! Pick and choose or change at will.
Plan A -
1) Wave of emotions start coming, remove myself from the immediate situation.
2) Go somewhere private whether a bathroom, other room, or car.
3) Feel some of it.
4) After feeling what I deem is enough feeling, try to get a handle on it.
5) Feelings controllable go back out.
Plan B-
Having a meltdown
1) remove yourself from the situation.
2) text or call someone you feel appropriately comfortable speaking about this with.
3) If they are there, ask for a hug and don't let go till most of the waves are out.
4) talk or don't talk. Do what you feel comfortable with.
5) if you can't get the control back, that's ok. Feel it and then leave if you're at someone else's place or go to a room and cry everything from your eyes out to the feeling in your body.
It's ok to cry. It's ok to leave the festivities. It's ok to celebrate and it's ok to not.
Key Elements in the plan:
1) Have Faith. God is always there and death is a part of life. We all are here on borrowed time. He will help you through the toughest falls and will help you to continue your climb onward.
2) Make sure you have at least one reliable person around you (whether physically or by phone) who understands what you are going through and are willing to be there regardless what you may need.
3) Know a meltdown is possible and is perfectly ok.
4) Know regardless how much you plan, you can't control everything and therefore cannot plan for everything.
5) This might sound weird but it's good to grieve. It shows you're making progress and the price we pay for loving someone is to mourn them when they are gone.
If any of you need someone to talk to and please remember I'm not a professional in any way but I am someone who has gone through it and is going through it.
You can email me at diaryheartgrieve@aol.com.
God bless you and everyone you encounter.
Good luck!
<3 Cherie
Diary of a Grieving Heart
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
My Home for the Holiday's
Hope you holidays were great. Mine were OK surprisingly.
I've moved away from my hometown recently. It was nice to see family and friends again. The day that I left I finally got to see some of my own family. That's when it hit to close to home again. Where I wasn't able to hold a brave face. Where my guard was taken down immediately. Where the tears were shed. I didn't have a complete breakdown thankfully just a short tear jerk moment but I was very happy for it.
The last time I went to my aunt and uncle's house, I went with my grandmother.
That was about a year ago. Coming up this January is the anniversary of her being diagnosed with cancer. Last year was my last Thanksgiving with her. So much happened last year that made it so difficult to spend a true holiday with her.
My son was born last year and it was also the first year I was able to have another holiday in a very long time spent with my grandmother. War of the grandchild was definitely in effect last year so I only ended up spending two hours and I remember you could see the disappointment in my face. I've never been good at hiding my emotions if their rooted too deep. As you can see I still have a bit of anger there. Jesus is helping with that but I want this blog to be honest. However vivid that may make it or raw or politically wrong. Some people won't understand but these were my feelings so only I can truly ever understand them alongside God. Oh if I had a way to go back, what I would do. But of course those are only wishes. I only look in regret shortly as I know everything is all on God's timing. The things you regret are the ones that have hopefully taught you better.
Anyways it also reminded me of my last Thanksgiving with my aunt as that's exactly where I spent it. At her son's house on an off Thanksgiving day. :)
It was the last time I gave her a hug. The last time I was hugged by her. The last time I heard her really speak like her. The last time I saw her so alive.
Two days before I made pasteles with her in her apartment. That was an awesome experience because one although I don't personally eat them, I always wondered how to make them. I saw her interact with her friends, and saw her joyfully watch Wheel of Fortune and make some "money" while watching it.
It was the first time really that I could honestly say I really did take everything about her in. Weirdly I've known her all my life. However, sometimes you forget to really soak in who that person is. I'm so happy and grateful to have these good memories of her to remember. She really was an amazing little woman. And I do mean little in size as well. But BIG AND GREAT things come in small packages.
My aunt really was a very giving woman. A very religious woman but extremely thankful and would make friends with anyone instantly. She was a hard woman to love at times because she was very vocal and opinionated. She could be a bit of a hot head but hey the best ones in my book have always been passionate.
Anyways that's just a glimpse of my holiday's so far. I wasn't really sure if in the beginning of this blog I would share my life but I guess it's a bit therapeutic for me as well. I'm very glad I'm back in my own home. This new place has been my zen.
I've moved away from my hometown recently. It was nice to see family and friends again. The day that I left I finally got to see some of my own family. That's when it hit to close to home again. Where I wasn't able to hold a brave face. Where my guard was taken down immediately. Where the tears were shed. I didn't have a complete breakdown thankfully just a short tear jerk moment but I was very happy for it.
The last time I went to my aunt and uncle's house, I went with my grandmother.
That was about a year ago. Coming up this January is the anniversary of her being diagnosed with cancer. Last year was my last Thanksgiving with her. So much happened last year that made it so difficult to spend a true holiday with her.
My son was born last year and it was also the first year I was able to have another holiday in a very long time spent with my grandmother. War of the grandchild was definitely in effect last year so I only ended up spending two hours and I remember you could see the disappointment in my face. I've never been good at hiding my emotions if their rooted too deep. As you can see I still have a bit of anger there. Jesus is helping with that but I want this blog to be honest. However vivid that may make it or raw or politically wrong. Some people won't understand but these were my feelings so only I can truly ever understand them alongside God. Oh if I had a way to go back, what I would do. But of course those are only wishes. I only look in regret shortly as I know everything is all on God's timing. The things you regret are the ones that have hopefully taught you better.
Anyways it also reminded me of my last Thanksgiving with my aunt as that's exactly where I spent it. At her son's house on an off Thanksgiving day. :)
It was the last time I gave her a hug. The last time I was hugged by her. The last time I heard her really speak like her. The last time I saw her so alive.
Two days before I made pasteles with her in her apartment. That was an awesome experience because one although I don't personally eat them, I always wondered how to make them. I saw her interact with her friends, and saw her joyfully watch Wheel of Fortune and make some "money" while watching it.
It was the first time really that I could honestly say I really did take everything about her in. Weirdly I've known her all my life. However, sometimes you forget to really soak in who that person is. I'm so happy and grateful to have these good memories of her to remember. She really was an amazing little woman. And I do mean little in size as well. But BIG AND GREAT things come in small packages.
My aunt really was a very giving woman. A very religious woman but extremely thankful and would make friends with anyone instantly. She was a hard woman to love at times because she was very vocal and opinionated. She could be a bit of a hot head but hey the best ones in my book have always been passionate.
Anyways that's just a glimpse of my holiday's so far. I wasn't really sure if in the beginning of this blog I would share my life but I guess it's a bit therapeutic for me as well. I'm very glad I'm back in my own home. This new place has been my zen.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Don't tell me to be strong!
There are things we say to others that we believe will provide comfort for those who are going through a loss. They mean well but sometimes silence is more than golden. Sometimes you rather the person just be there to wipe your tears, hold your hand or surround their arms around you. Words aren't always necessary.
One of the common things we tend to say is to be strong.
When my world has fallen apart, telling me to be strong does not help me. Does not provide me any comfort whatsoever. If anything is makes me angry and causes me to feel further isolated in my grief. When you say this to me, I feel like your telling me that my crying or pain is a sign of weakness. I feel like you are shaming me into silence.
There is no strength in grief. My tears are not weakness. My pain is not weakness. Everything that I feel is a sign that I loved someone and how much that person meant to me. I cannot replace this person or forget that they existed.
When your going through grief especially the first days, it is not the time to be brave or strong. It's OK to be human and show your love for that person. Jesus' grief is instructive. He wept while he was on earth. If there were no love, there would be no grief. Grief is the recognition that you have lost someone you love and is the price you pay for loving that person.
Society has the perception that we have to "get over" a loss no matter how massive a loss it is. The problem with this is that you cannot get over a loss. You have to get through it to actually heal from it. Don't be afraid to honestly express you emotions. This is the time you should. Our culture may seem to ban these emotions and do not prepare us in how to deal with them. There is no how to grieve. There is no real right way of doing it except allowing yourself to feel it whether it be an ounce at a time or a gallon.
You may be surprised how long it lasts. I've learned the longer you "avoid" it, the more longer it takes to heal from it. Don't misinterpret me, I still cry over my first experience with loss and it has been 7 years. You can't avoid the sadness of losing someone. Their absence can be felt great at different times regardless of how much time has passed. Grief is an unwanted house guest that does not follow rules and does not attribute anything "good" to the household.
Every grief is unique and can be a maddening experience. However, one day the sun will come out again and one day you will be able to smile or laugh once more.
May God continue to provide you with guidance and serenity during this time.
God bless you all and everyone you encounter!
<3 Cherie
One of the common things we tend to say is to be strong.
When my world has fallen apart, telling me to be strong does not help me. Does not provide me any comfort whatsoever. If anything is makes me angry and causes me to feel further isolated in my grief. When you say this to me, I feel like your telling me that my crying or pain is a sign of weakness. I feel like you are shaming me into silence.
There is no strength in grief. My tears are not weakness. My pain is not weakness. Everything that I feel is a sign that I loved someone and how much that person meant to me. I cannot replace this person or forget that they existed.
When your going through grief especially the first days, it is not the time to be brave or strong. It's OK to be human and show your love for that person. Jesus' grief is instructive. He wept while he was on earth. If there were no love, there would be no grief. Grief is the recognition that you have lost someone you love and is the price you pay for loving that person.
Society has the perception that we have to "get over" a loss no matter how massive a loss it is. The problem with this is that you cannot get over a loss. You have to get through it to actually heal from it. Don't be afraid to honestly express you emotions. This is the time you should. Our culture may seem to ban these emotions and do not prepare us in how to deal with them. There is no how to grieve. There is no real right way of doing it except allowing yourself to feel it whether it be an ounce at a time or a gallon.
You may be surprised how long it lasts. I've learned the longer you "avoid" it, the more longer it takes to heal from it. Don't misinterpret me, I still cry over my first experience with loss and it has been 7 years. You can't avoid the sadness of losing someone. Their absence can be felt great at different times regardless of how much time has passed. Grief is an unwanted house guest that does not follow rules and does not attribute anything "good" to the household.
Every grief is unique and can be a maddening experience. However, one day the sun will come out again and one day you will be able to smile or laugh once more.
May God continue to provide you with guidance and serenity during this time.
God bless you all and everyone you encounter!
<3 Cherie
The Story of 3
This is a brief introduction of my journey through grief. It is to serve as if it was an excerpt from my diary.
My grieving journey began with the death of my grandfather in July of 2003. He and my grandmother were the one's who raised me as my mother was a single mother and had to work three different jobs to sustain us. I was his side kick. Always near or right beside him. Where ever he went, I went. He died of a massive heart attack while mowing the grass one morning. He was a man who always was working and moving. He never stayed still for long and wasn't a person who had many things done for him willingly. My grandfather was a great teacher for me. He taught me how to be kind and be self sacrificing. I won't go into much about him right now since I can go on for hours. We will leave that for another post.
His death went through me in different spurts of shock waves. Most of those waves contained a massive amount of anger. Anger towards him, anger towards God, anger towards family members, and anger towards the world. I didn't understand why I had to lose him. I didn't understand why the world kept moving when I was dying inside. Why I had to keep living. What the heck I was living for. I became self destructive after his death. I was on a road with no regard to anyone else. I didn't share my feelings with anyone and it took years for me to be able to even say his name. I wasn't comfortable talking about him, even with my own family. Even when they were going through his death as well. I felt that his death affected me more than it did them. That they didn't love him as much as I did. I know how this sounds but that's exactly what I was feeling. Regardless if it was wrong or right, I was feeling that. I didn't have much guidance in retrospect on how to grieve.
I felt that if I prevented myself from crying and shielded myself from speaking about him, I would get over it. One day my pain would end because I wasn't allowing it to surface. However, not letting my feelings out only made me more angrier and I felt even more alone.
And then there were two......
Two years ago my aunt died after a colonoscopy gone wrong. My last "real" hug from her was during Thanksgiving weekend. I will never forget that hug because that was the first time I'd ever hug her so hard. I don't know why I held on so long that day. It wasn't like I knew what was later to come. A couple of days later she went to her appointment and during a routine procedure her delicate colon was perforated. They tried putting in a temporary colon bag, but it didn't end up helping her situation. Later they tried to put in a permanent one, however, her body was starting to shut down. Jesus gave her to us for a whole month before he took her. Within that month I learned what it was to express your feelings to someone. Since my grandfathers death I wasn't a person who shared her feelings. Within that month I learned what it was to speak to someone who couldn't really respond back. It was very difficult for me to see her the days she couldn't even open her eyes. The days she was so heavily medicated that I felt she was already gone. On those days I lost some hope.
There were other days where she was able to open her eyes and look at me. I knew she could understand me. I will never forget the day I asked her if she was tired of seeing me. She shut her eyes in so much pain and shook her head as if saying never. In retrospect it felt like she was saying goodbye and I could feel her emotional pain. Needless to say I had to turn away for a second to contain myself. It's heartbreaking to see someone you felt was invincible and learn that expiration dates really do exist.
This was the first experience where I learned what it really was to be on the front lines and pray for someone to survive. It was the first time I would ask others to join me in prayer. It was the first time where I learn what death signs were. Where I learned another person's loss was greater than mines. Where I started to learn how to grieve the health way (if that exists).
The biggest losses in my life (so far) have been in three.
April 29, 2010 I lost my grandmother who was my mother to me. She was my best friend, my counselor, my cheerleader, the person who didn't care if I was wrong but would always be on my side and my protector. A couple of months before we had just moved her into her first apartment. She was so proud to have a home of her own. She decorated it the way she wanted with the assistance of my mother and I. Remembering the days of running around and finding things for her apartment are things I look back on now and smile about it. This is very fresh for me right now so I'm having a hard time writing about it right now.
During Thanksgiving through December 2009, she began to get a little sick. She would have a little cold and cough that would come and go. January finally came around and the cough didn't go away. She was having a hard time breathing. I told her I was going to pick her up and we were going to go to the hospital the next morning. She jokingly said I would have to drag her out and I said I would if I had to. With my grandmother you had to be tough right back in order to get her to do what was needed. Finally we got to the hospital and she was first diagnosed with pneumonia. Later that day she was diagnosed with lung cancer. The cancer had spread to both lungs. She also had some tumors in her brain.
We had to make the decision to not go through with chemotherapy because of her fragile condition. Alongside the group of doctors, we made the decision to take her back to her home and take care of her with the assistance of hospice. I will write more about her and everything that happened another day.
I'm having a difficult time writing without drowning my keyboard with tears writing about her.
May God continue to bless you and everyone you encounter. Never forget you are not alone in your grief. May you find some healing through this.
<3 Cherie
My grieving journey began with the death of my grandfather in July of 2003. He and my grandmother were the one's who raised me as my mother was a single mother and had to work three different jobs to sustain us. I was his side kick. Always near or right beside him. Where ever he went, I went. He died of a massive heart attack while mowing the grass one morning. He was a man who always was working and moving. He never stayed still for long and wasn't a person who had many things done for him willingly. My grandfather was a great teacher for me. He taught me how to be kind and be self sacrificing. I won't go into much about him right now since I can go on for hours. We will leave that for another post.
His death went through me in different spurts of shock waves. Most of those waves contained a massive amount of anger. Anger towards him, anger towards God, anger towards family members, and anger towards the world. I didn't understand why I had to lose him. I didn't understand why the world kept moving when I was dying inside. Why I had to keep living. What the heck I was living for. I became self destructive after his death. I was on a road with no regard to anyone else. I didn't share my feelings with anyone and it took years for me to be able to even say his name. I wasn't comfortable talking about him, even with my own family. Even when they were going through his death as well. I felt that his death affected me more than it did them. That they didn't love him as much as I did. I know how this sounds but that's exactly what I was feeling. Regardless if it was wrong or right, I was feeling that. I didn't have much guidance in retrospect on how to grieve.
I felt that if I prevented myself from crying and shielded myself from speaking about him, I would get over it. One day my pain would end because I wasn't allowing it to surface. However, not letting my feelings out only made me more angrier and I felt even more alone.
And then there were two......
Two years ago my aunt died after a colonoscopy gone wrong. My last "real" hug from her was during Thanksgiving weekend. I will never forget that hug because that was the first time I'd ever hug her so hard. I don't know why I held on so long that day. It wasn't like I knew what was later to come. A couple of days later she went to her appointment and during a routine procedure her delicate colon was perforated. They tried putting in a temporary colon bag, but it didn't end up helping her situation. Later they tried to put in a permanent one, however, her body was starting to shut down. Jesus gave her to us for a whole month before he took her. Within that month I learned what it was to express your feelings to someone. Since my grandfathers death I wasn't a person who shared her feelings. Within that month I learned what it was to speak to someone who couldn't really respond back. It was very difficult for me to see her the days she couldn't even open her eyes. The days she was so heavily medicated that I felt she was already gone. On those days I lost some hope.
There were other days where she was able to open her eyes and look at me. I knew she could understand me. I will never forget the day I asked her if she was tired of seeing me. She shut her eyes in so much pain and shook her head as if saying never. In retrospect it felt like she was saying goodbye and I could feel her emotional pain. Needless to say I had to turn away for a second to contain myself. It's heartbreaking to see someone you felt was invincible and learn that expiration dates really do exist.
This was the first experience where I learned what it really was to be on the front lines and pray for someone to survive. It was the first time I would ask others to join me in prayer. It was the first time where I learn what death signs were. Where I learned another person's loss was greater than mines. Where I started to learn how to grieve the health way (if that exists).
The biggest losses in my life (so far) have been in three.
April 29, 2010 I lost my grandmother who was my mother to me. She was my best friend, my counselor, my cheerleader, the person who didn't care if I was wrong but would always be on my side and my protector. A couple of months before we had just moved her into her first apartment. She was so proud to have a home of her own. She decorated it the way she wanted with the assistance of my mother and I. Remembering the days of running around and finding things for her apartment are things I look back on now and smile about it. This is very fresh for me right now so I'm having a hard time writing about it right now.
During Thanksgiving through December 2009, she began to get a little sick. She would have a little cold and cough that would come and go. January finally came around and the cough didn't go away. She was having a hard time breathing. I told her I was going to pick her up and we were going to go to the hospital the next morning. She jokingly said I would have to drag her out and I said I would if I had to. With my grandmother you had to be tough right back in order to get her to do what was needed. Finally we got to the hospital and she was first diagnosed with pneumonia. Later that day she was diagnosed with lung cancer. The cancer had spread to both lungs. She also had some tumors in her brain.
We had to make the decision to not go through with chemotherapy because of her fragile condition. Alongside the group of doctors, we made the decision to take her back to her home and take care of her with the assistance of hospice. I will write more about her and everything that happened another day.
I'm having a difficult time writing without drowning my keyboard with tears writing about her.
May God continue to bless you and everyone you encounter. Never forget you are not alone in your grief. May you find some healing through this.
<3 Cherie
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