Nineteen years ago today at 5:10 pm my world as I knew it ended.
My 18-month-old daughter Erin died.
And the words I repeated over and over again – to myself, to my wife, and to anyone else within earshot were, “What are we going to do? What are we going to do?”
I didn’t have a clue.
And somehow, someway, (most likely by the grace of God) the post-5:10 pm seconds turned into minutes which turned into hours creating days building weeks turning into months miraculously tallying the years. As I said, nineteen years in all.
Had she lived, Erin would be 20-years-old. I try to imagine.
And to the many, many people I have met along the way who have experienced a similar “world-ending,” I am here to tell you that as that world ends another begins. To asssure you. To promise you - that resurrection is possible.
Slowly, slowly, slowly.
As impossible and as improbable as it was to imagine in 1990, when I look back now, I mostly smile.
My daughter Erin was a precious gift who loved and was loved. She had enormous, dark, old-soul eyes. Wispy blonde-red hair. A perfect lipstick red mouth. She walked early and she talked early. She loved to wear her mommy’s high heels. She whistled, she danced and she called anyone with gray-white hair “gacka.”
At night I would hold her in the white wicker rocking chair and sing to her. At the end of the work day Trici would put her in the stroller and meet me at the El stop at the corner of Lake and South Avenue. I loved walking home as a family. On Saturday mornings we’d meet Trici’s family at the Farmer’s Market. She saw only one Christmas, but I have the photos and videotape to prove we took in every moment.
I think it’s important that those of us who have “been there” let those of us who are just now arriving know that – in time – the pain lessens. The color returns to all things. Sleep becomes restful again. Things like the change in seasons, a friend’s birthday, a good book, the color of the paint on the walls begin to matter again.
And a new life emerges.
And a smile returns.
Different. But a smile nonetheless.
Hope and peace,
Tom
Wednesday, March 25, 2009 8:34 pm CST
Two Upcoming Events
If either one resonates…I’d love to have you join us!
Planting the Seeds of Rebirth – an interactive workshop.
Spring is a time of birth and rebirth. Take time to unearth what wants to be born in you.
If you are living with any kind of loss - death, divorce, illness, disability, unemployment, old age – join us. We’ll take some time to excavate grief, mourn safely, and gently lean into the possibility for our new life.
Saturday, April 4, 2009, 9:30 am – 2:00 pm
Womanspace, (open to both men and women) $45.00.
Call 815.877.0118 to register.
Please bring a sack lunch.
April “Permission to Mourn”
begins meeting in my home on Tuesday, April 7th from 6:30 pm to 8:00 pm.
I am inviting people to join a small group of kindred spirits as we gently learn to live with the death of someone we love. In a safe space, we can openly and honestly share the details of our personal journey with grief. “Going public” with your grief is called mourning. I firmly believe that mourning is a path to healing.
A participant shared these words about her experience with the group:
"I looked forward to group every week. Tom has such understanding and compassion for the process of mourning and he created a safe place to share and just be in my grief--all of it, without judging or defining it in any way. After having felt like many people in my life were trying to tell me how to grieve, or for how long, Tom helped me to know that what I was going through was normal and helped me feel fully supported in that."
We will meet for four Tuesdays, April 7, 14, 21 and 28 from 6:30-8:00 pm. at my home - 3303 Brookview Rd, in Rockford.
Cost is $70.00 for the 4-part series.
Hope and peace,
Tom
Friday, March 13, 2009 2:23 pm CST
I had the opportunity to speak Monday night at NorthPointe Wellness Center. Beloit Regional Hospice hosted the event and we decided to call my presentation:
Creating a Safe Space:
Learning to Live with the Death of Someone You Love
Over 100 people attended. I was thrilled…I was terrified. Well, maybe not terrified – but I was concerned. What had I gotten myself into? What could I possibly say to these people? What were they looking for, hoping for, wanting and needing? Would I be able to “deliver?”
I remember hearing Frank Sinatra say once that he still got nervous every time he sang. Frank Sinatra. That calms me a bit. If the best of the best got nervous…certainly it was okay for me to be nervous, too.
My prayer, my hope, my intention going into the evening was that I would say at least one thing that would touch each person that decided to come.
Each person there received a Feedback Form and most took the time to fill it out – letting me know what they thought and felt about the presentation.
One person said this when asked what was most helpful:
I know now that I’m not crazy. My walk through grief has been normal.
Remarkably, I think the question I get asked the most – usually in very hushed tones – is,
“Do you think I’m going crazy? I think I am. I’ve never experienced anything like this. I must be going crazy? Am I?”
I always say the same thing.
No, no, no, no … a million times no. You are not going crazy.
Everything that you are feeling. Everything that you are thinking. All of the ways that grief is expressing itself through you is normal. Completely normal…whatever that means.
People are relieved. Surprised. Stunned, Shocked, even.
“But, I didn’t know it would be like this,” they say.
Of course not. How could you? We never talk about it.
As a society, we’re ill equipped and ill-prepared to deal with life when our life becomes about “learning to live with the death of someone we love.”
We often hear – and we often read – that each person’s grief journey is unique. Everyone is different. Everyone’s experience is different.
I agree with that. But I have come to see that there is more.
Yes…there are differences…but there is also much that is common as we live with grief. I define grief as the internal, automatic, learned response to loss. It’s what happens inside of us. Automatically. When we experience loss.
And I’ve come to conclude that grief expresses itself in many, many, many ways. Often at a very rapid pace. We are often bombarded – on the inside – with an ever-changing array of feelings, emotions, and physical manifestations.
If you ask someone on the grief journey how they are…a very honest response may be – "I don’t know. I really don’t know. It changes moment-by-moment."
I’m compiling an ever-growing list of Expressions of Grief. It may be helpful for you to take a look at it – and even print it out. You can find it by clicking: Expressions of Grief.
Take a look. Can you find your experience(s) on this list? Most of us – if not all of us – can.
You’re not going crazy. Grief is expressing itself.
We rarely talk about it. Let’s change that.
If – after looking over the list I’m compiling – you think of other ways grief is – or has – expressed itself through you – let me know. Email me at tom@tomzuba.com. I’ll add your contribution to the list.
Hope and peace,
Tom
P.S. Check out my new YouTube presentation.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009 7:24 pm CST
My YouTube presentation is UP and running and ready for you to view it..
I call my presentation:
Tom Zuba – A Blessed Life
Birth, Death and Rebirth x 3: Sharing Tools for the Journey.
It’s easy to view.
Enter my name, Tom Zuba, in the Search Tool near the top of the page.
All 6 parts of my presentation should come up.
Click on the screen of Part 1 of 6.
When you are finished, proceed to Parts 2-6.
This is what folks are saying about my presentation:
“I loved the video. So much so that I posted it on my page for the rest of my pals to benefit from. So true and so easy to forget, even when I`ve been trained in it for years. I love your expanded commitment to your own mourning, and to assisting that of others. Its really amazing work you`re doing.”
“I just watched your presentation and was just blown away by it and am so proud of you!!!! I enthusiastically sent your link to all of my contacts and know that it will be meaningful … I just know that this video will help so many people who are struggling through their grief and the feeling of isolation that often times accompanies it. You have really knocked it out of the park on this one my friend.”
“Thank you, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!! for passing on your friend, Tom Zuba`s story. His story is amazing, his courage to embrace loss and life is truly awesome and absolutely moving. My gratitude flows to Tom for sharing his moving story, his insights, his wisdom, his honesty, his humor, his truths. Many, many blessings to Tom and Sean, and to you, for spreading his important teachings”
I’d appreciate it if you would leave a comment at YouTube and then rate the part(s) you are able to watch. If you find the information helpful and of value...please invite your family and friends to view on YouTube as well.
After you watch the presentation, you may want to view and then print:
Please let me know what you think/feel after you view the presentation. You can email me at tom@tomzuba.com.
As always,
Hope and peace,
Tom
Thursday, March 5, 2009 11:26 am CST
Dear Friends,
As of yesterday there were about 100 people registered for my Monday, March 9th presentation called:
Creating a Safe Space:
Learning to Live with the Death of Someone You Love
I invite you to join us if you are ready for a deeper understanding of grief and mourning. I will help you learn how to recognize the gifts of denial. Together, we will discover ways to create a safe space where you can begin to heal and lean into the new life that awaits you.
Everyone is welcome. It is not too late to register.
Monday, March 9th, from 6 pm to 8 pm (registration begins at 5:30 pm)
NorthPointe Wellness Community Room,
5605 East Rockton Road in Roscoe, Il.
The event is hosted by Beloit Regional Hospice.
Cost is $15.00, light refreshments will be served.
To register and/or for more information call 608.363.7421.
________________________________
There are just a few spots open for my upcoming small support group, which begins meeting at my home Wednesday, March 11th from 6:30 – 8:00 pm.
I call this group:
Permission to Mourn
The group is for people who are learning to live with the death of someone they love.
I am inviting people to join a small group of kindred spirits as we gently learn to live with the death of someone we love. In a safe space, we can openly and honestly share the details of our personal journey with grief. “Going public” with your grief is called mourning. I firmly believe that mourning is a path to healing
We will meet for four Wednesdays, March 11, 18, 25 and April 1, 2009, from 6:30-8:00 pm. at my home - 3303 Brookview Rd, in Rockford.
Cost is $70.00 for the 4-part series.
Group is limited to 8 people.
To register (or if you have questions) email tom@tomzuba.com or call 815.395.1337.
__________________________
My YouTube presentation is UP and running and ready for you to view it..
I call my presentation:
Tom Zuba – A Blessed Life
Birth, Death and Rebirth x 3: Sharing Tools for the Journey.
It’s easy to view.
Enter my name, Tom Zuba, in the Search Tool near the top of the page.
All 6 parts of my presentation should come up.
Click on the screen of Part 1 of 6.
When you are finished, proceed to Parts 2-6.
This is what folks are saying about my presentation:
“I loved the video. So much so that I posted it on my page for the rest of my pals to benefit from. So true and so easy to forget, even when I`ve been trained in it for years. I love your expanded commitment to your own mourning, and to assisting that of others. Its really amazing work you`re doing.”
“I just watched your presentation and was just blown away by it and am so proud of you!!!! I enthusiastically sent your link to all of my contacts and know that it will be meaningful … I just know that this video will help so many people who are struggling through their grief and the feeling of isolation that often times accompanies it. You have really knocked it out of the park on this one my friend.”
“Thank you, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!! for passing on your friend, Tom Zuba`s story. His story is amazing, his courage to embrace loss and life is truly awesome and absolutely moving. My gratitude flows to Tom for sharing his moving story, his insights, his wisdom, his honesty, his humor, his truths. Many, many blessings to Tom and Sean, and to you, for spreading his important teachings”
I’d appreciate it if you would leave a comment at YouTube and then rate the part(s) you are able to watch. If you find the information helpful and of value...please invite your family and friends to view on YouTube as well.
After you watch the presentation, you may want to view and then print:
Please let me know what you think/feel after you view the presentation. You can email me at tom@tomzuba.com.
As always,
Hope and peace,
Tom
Friday, February 27, 2009 3:23 pm CST
Dear Friends,
I have three things to share with you:
1. My presentation “Tom Zuba presents A Blessed Life – Birth, Death & Rebirth x 3: Sharing Tools for the Journey”
is uploaded at YouTube and ready to be viewed by you.
2. My small group “Permission to Mourn” begins meeting in my home on Wednesday evening, March 11th.
3. I will be speaking in Roscoe on Monday, March 9th from 6:00 to 8:00 pm. All are welcome.
Here are the details about all three:
1. On October 19, 2008 I gave a presentation at Temple Beth El in my hometown of Rockford, Illinois. During the planning meeting, I asked the event hosts what they wanted me to talk about.
Very directly, and very simply, the Rabbi said, "I’d like to know how you manage to get out of bed each morning. If our situations were reversed, I’m not sure I could do that. Just tell us how you get out of bed."
I call my presentation:
Tom Zuba – A Blessed Life
Birth, Death and Rebirth x 3: Sharing Tools for the Journey.
You can view my presentation on YouTube. It’s easy.
Enter my name, Tom Zuba, in the Search Tool near the top of the page.
All 6 parts of my presentation should come up.
Click on the screen of Part 1 of 6.
When you are finished, proceed to Parts 2-6.
I’d appreciate it if you would leave a comment at YouTube and then rate the part(s) you are able to watch. If you find the information helpful and of value...please invite your family and friends to view on YouTube as well.
After you watch the presentation, you may want to view and then print:
Please let me know what you think/feel after you view the presentation. You can email me at tom@tomzuba.com.
______________________________________
2. My small group “Permission to Mourn” begins meeting in my home on Wednesday evening, March 11th. Join a small group of kindred spirits as we gently learn to live with the death of someone we love. In a safe space, openly and honestly share the details of your personal journey with grief. “Going public” with your grief is called mourning. It’s a path to healing.
We will meet for four Wednesdays, March 11, 18, 25 and April 1, 2009, from 6:30-8:00 pm. at my home - 3303 Brookview Rd, in Rockford. Cost is $70.00 for the 4-part series. The group is limited to 8 people. To register email tom@tomzuba.com or call 815.395.1337
____________________________________________________
3. I will be speaking in Roscoe on Monday, March 9th from 6:00 to 8:00 pm. All are welcome. My presentation is called: Creating a Safe Space: Learning to Live with the Death of Someone You Love
Join us if you are ready for a deeper understanding of grief and mourning. Learn how to recognize the gifts of denial. Discover ways to create a safe space where you can begin to heal and lean into the new life that awaits you.
Monday, March 9th, from 6 pm to 8 pm (registration begins at 5:30 pm) at NorthPointe Wellness Community Room, 5605 East Rockton Road in Roscoe, Il. The event is hosted by Beloit Regional Hospice. Cost is $15.00, light refreshments will be served. To register and/or for more information call 608.363.7421.
Hope and peace,
Tom
Sunday, 2-22-09, 1:29 pm CST
Mostly, I have questions. Very few answers.
I guess having the courage to even ask the questions is the first step. Right?
It can’t be a coincidence that I had the opportunity to visit the place in India where Gandhi spent his last 144 days on this earth. The place where he was shot and killed on January 20, 1948.
It can’t be a coincidence that I visited the most magnificent park where Gandhi’s body was cremated the next day.
And it can’t be a coincidence that I spent time in both India and Nepal…and was witness to great devotion to the Dalai Lama and Buddhism.
I posted this piece on my website when I launched this site…three years ago today. It bears rereading.
Two days after Rory died, I opened our local newspaper and read the following. Then I read it again.
It wasn’t until a week or so later, at his Memorial Service, that I learned that Mary Kaull, mother of one of Rory`s friends and assistant editorial page editor for the Rockford Register Star wrote the piece. She had obviously spent some time reading the Caringbridge site: www.caringbridge.org/il/rory. She had spoken to another reporter - Carrie Watters - who had interviewed us that past December preparing for the newspaper`s piece on the Pancake Breakfast. (I was amazed that Carrie had taken such detailed notes...and that she had kept them.) And then, it feels like Mary Kaull opened her heart to our experience...and wrote.
I love this piece.
I love that it captures my relationship with my son.
I am stunned and delighted - that in a "public" newspaper - we read "Could there be any question that the brilliant scientist visited the brilliant boy - through his dreams, through his pain, through his hope, and, finally, through his death?"
Beautiful.
Thank you Mary. Thank you Rockford Register Star.
Rockford Register Star
February 24, 2005
Incredibly gifted child dies surrounded by love
OPINION
Just 19 days after brain surgery, Rory Zuba, the boy who had made everyone expect miracles, didn`t disappoint. His left temporal lobe removed, he hiked through White Pines State Park with his family last November, jogging through the mud, fording creeks and hopping over concrete barriers. That night, lying next to his father on a huge bed in the park, he wondered about a world in which his sister died at 18 months, his mother died when he was 7 and his brain still held remnants of a fast-growing, malignant tumor.
"DO YOU THINK someone is trying to tell us something?" he asked his dad, Tom. Yes, Tom said, someone was trying to tell them something -- and did he agree?
"Yes," Rory said, "but I don`t know what."
Tom said he was sure it was "wrapped up in love -- the power of love, and how important it is to love, love, love."
Rory, 13, died Tuesday morning in the light of that love.
After cancer treatment that took the family across the country. After candlelight prayer vigils given by his friends at West Middle School in Rockford. After hundreds of people around the world had shared their hopes for him on the Internet through CaringBridge, a nonprofit group that offers free Web pages to patients.
A seventh-grader in the gifted program at West, Rory was gifted in many ways -- gifted with intellect, gifted with insight, gifted with courage. Certainly he was gifted with a father who refused to succumb to pity and who believed in a world that was full of miracles -- just not the ones we expect.
Tom was the Register Star`s Person of the Year earlier this month. He moved back to his hometown of Rockford more than two years ago as a widower to raise Rory and Sean, now 9.
After Rory`s death, he wrote, "We`ve created the illusion that death is to be avoided at all costs, especially for our young. Rory`s incredible life and equally spectacular journey these past six months gives us a chance to rethink that notion, if we choose."
Rory chose to think, always. He was a deep thinker, as his West counselor, Anna Borchers, said. Last spring, Tom wrote that Rory started feeling burdened by the problems of the world -- overpopulation, not enough food, destruction of natural resources. "He often said, `a kid my age should not be worrying about these things.` " So Tom rented the movie "Gandhi." "Rory loved it. Inhaled it." Then they watched three movies about the Dalai Lama.
"RORY REALIZED that one person could change things, one person could bring a lot of hope into this world. I remember him saying, `When I grow up, I want to influence lots of people. Let`s make a list of influential people ... Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Jesus. I want to read about their lives to see what I can learn from them.`"
Instead, people read Rory`s Web site and found out it was they, not Rory, who had a lot to learn.
Before his mother, Trici, died of a blood disorder similar to one that caused his sister`s death, Rory said to his parents, "Whichever of you dies first, when you are in heaven, please tell Albert Einstein to visit me in my dreams. I really want to meet him."
Could there be any question the brilliant scientist visited the brilliant boy -- through his dreams, through his pain, through his hope, and, finally, through his death?
"A HUMAN BEING," Einstein once wrote, "experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separated from the rest -- a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us.
"Our task," Einstein said, "must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole nature in its beauty."
Rory`s circle was so wide, it seemed there was one degree of separation between him and just about everyone.
As he was dying, he was taken to OSF Saint Anthony Medical Center, where his aunt, Jeannine Zuba, works as a nurse. After his death, she wrote on the Web site: "Let us all show our incredible little teacher that we have learned well."
The problem is how.
"One of the things I have learned big-time these past six months," Tom wrote after Rory`s death, "is that life is easier when we hold hands and take care of each other."
What brilliant advice.
Copyright (c) Rockford Register Star.
Thursday, February 19, 2009 5:39 pm CST
Come if you can…
I will be giving a 1-hour presentation called “Death Cracks Us Open” from 1:00 – 2:00 pm this Saturday, February 21st at Womanspace’s:
Holding Our Own Hospice Conference
Womanspace presents PBS documentary filmmaker Camilla Rockwell at their Holding Our Own Hospice Conference on Saturday, February 21, 2009 from 9:00am to 5:00pm. This event is open to the public and will be held at the new Saint Anthony College of Nursing located on the lower level of OSF Specialty Clinic-Guilford Square, 698 Featherstone Road in Rockford.
Admission at the door is $10 for the day, or $5 after 1:00pm. No registration is necessary. Just come!!!
The main attraction of this event is the 10:00am showing of Rockwell’s 2007 film Holding Our Own: Embracing the End of Life www.holdingourown.com, which is expanding our national conversation about aging and dying. Fabric portrait artist Deidre Scherer www.dscherer.com is profiled in the film, as is Vermont hospice choir Hallowell and Ira Byock, M.D., author of Dying Well. Scherer is best-know for renowned book covers such as When I Am An Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple.
A special Q&A session with Rockwell follows the morning showing of the film. The conference also features a performance of hospice choir selections by Womansong Chorale, directed by Roberta Flaherty. Throughout the day, there will be presentations on a variety of end of life topics, including grief guide Tom Zuba’s program on beliefs about death. Guests can learn more from service providers at the informational expo, view art, and purchase refreshments.
Friday, January 23, 2009 5:32 pm CST
DEATH CRACKS US OPEN
I believe that the death of someone we love cracks us open. I believe it’s supposed to.
Death shatters us. It breaks us into a million tiny pieces. And as the minutes turn to hours, and the hours turn to days, the days to weeks, the weeks to months, and somehow, someway, the months – yes – to years, we ever so slowly hunt for the shattered pieces of our self.
Some of the found pieces we reclaim realizing, with relief and amazement, that they still fit. We need them. Try as we may though, at times, often with much sadness and disbelief we come to accept the new truth that some of the old pieces no longer fit. Those pieces no longer serve us. We must discard them. And remarkably, amazingly, along the way, from time to time, we discover new pieces. Sweet, new, wonderful pieces that seem to make the new us more of who we are now. More of who we are becoming.
And along the way we dare to ask the questions. We have too.
Is there a God? If there is, what is he? Is he even a he? Perhaps he’s really a she, or an it, or maybe a they? And if we decide that there is a God…then we need to know what he/she/it/they had to do with the death of the person that we love so much?
And we ask about prayer. Does it change the outcome? Can the right prayer, said at the right time in the right way by the right number of people…change the mind of God? If I had said the right prayer in the right way would the person I love still be alive?
And what happens when we die? What really happens? Do we continue to exist? Is there a part of us that’s eternal? Or is this all there is?
And heaven? Is there a heaven? If so, where is it? Is the person I love that has died in heaven? Is she aware of me? Can he communicate with me? Can I communicate with her?
I think it’s in the asking and the answering of some of life’s fundamental questions that we can learn to make peace with our new life. But I think that the process must be a gentle one. We ask. We dare to ask again. We answer. And like trying on a new shirt or a new dress the answer we come up with may fit for a while…as we continue to find the tiny pieces of our shattered self.
And then the day comes when the answer that served us so well…no longer rings true. And there’s a newer answer rising up, to the tough question we dared to ask our self. And when we try on the newer answer, we feel a new level of peace. It fits better. As we learn to live our life…with our newly emerging new self.
Death cracks us open. It’s supposed to.
Hope and peace,
Tom
Wednesday, January 14, 2009 11:19 am CST
I’ve mentioned before that one of my favorite books about grief is called “Awakening From Grief – Finding the Way Back to Joy” by John E. Welshons.
Here’s a quote:
“Every person who enters our lives,
and every experience we have,
is a teacher.
Some things we learn about ourselves
amaze us.
Some trouble us.
But through it all,
each relationship continues…
Everyone we have loved
has become a part of us…
And no relationship,
created in love,
can ever die…”
Love that! If it resonates, consider buying the book or at least taking a look at it the next time you are at the bookstore.
Hope, peace, and never-ending love,
Tom
Tuesday, January 13, 2009 9:26 am CST
The other day I picked up a brochure promoting an event that caught my interest.
2009 Winter Feast for the Soul
a 40-day worldwide spiritual practice period
for people of all faiths
January 15-February 23, 2009
The event is rooted in a quote by Rumi –
What nine months does for the embryo
Forty early mornings will do
For your growing awareness
The brochure goes on to say:
This winter we invite you to explore the possibilities that arise from a life grounded in a daily spiritual practice.
We will take the grounding one step further as we create a global community bonded by our desire for personal and planetary peace.
The most important aspect of your commitment is that you find a way to create a deep peace inside yourself for 40-minutes each day for 40-consecutive days.
There are many ways to create inner peace –
Daily prayer or meditation
Yoga or martial arts
Contemplating sacred texts
Practicing the expressive arts, such as painting, writing and journaling
This is a short excerpt from one of the articles posted on that site. Did you know that January 29th is the day that marks the highest suicide rate in our country…
"In late January, 2008, when the Feast had neared the half way point, I heard a piece on public radio that reminded us that January 29 is the day that marks the highest suicide rate in the country. No surprise there when you put it into the context of post-holiday depression.
As we talked our way through that observation, Barbara reminded me that I just may be missing the boat by not emphasizing the relationship between the Feast, and meditation and prayer as a antidote against the depression and anxiety that come with the holidays and the long nights of winter.
Spiritual teachers around the world call upon us to remember that periods of prolonged silence are prescribed during the winter season. We must follow the rhythm of the earth, going deep when she does. Disappearing like the moon does when the dark days of the New Moon remind us that there is a prescribed cycle for going within.
Yes, the Winter Feast is also an antidote for depression and it is one of the few that will not cost you a dime Whether you choose to sit on a cushion and find your comfort in the silence there, read from your favorite sacred text, or spend 40 minutes in a yoga class or a martial arts session. Our goal is to support you in finding a way to calm and focus your mind."
As I’ve said before…the death of someone we love cracks us open. It’s supposed to. Our challenge is to find a way to make peace with our new life.
Perhaps for some – setting aside 40 minutes a day, for 40 days to “be” with life is expecting too much. But perhaps starting with 5 minutes for a few days is attainable…and then building up to 10 minutes, and then 20 minutes…
It’s about gently leaning into the transformation.
Consciously.
Hope and peace,
Tom
Saturday, January 10, 2009 12:45 pm CST
One of the things we talked about in our group Tuesday evening is that even though each person’s experience with an intimate death is different --- there is much we have in common as we navigate our way through grief. I think most people are surprised to discover that. So often we hear the mantra…grief is so personal and individual…and while there is certainly truth to that…there is also much that is shared. There is much that is common about the journey.
And when we talk honestly about the grief experience…many heads begin to nod in agreement and support. Shoulders relax a bit. Some of the tension leaves the body.
To discover that “I am not alone” can be healing.
To be with someone else and think:
Yes…I have felt that.
Yes…I’ve experienced that.
Yes, yes, yes…that is true for me, too.
And while I thought I was the only one traveling this road…there is something comforting and reassuring in learning that I am not alone in the experience.
You, too, have thought these thoughts, cried these tears, felt these emotions, and asked these questions. You too have been awake nights wondering the same things I am wondering.
Grief is lonely. We miss the physical presence of the person we love who has died.
Grief is isolating. For many (most?), a short time passes and we feel the uneasiness of other people in our life. They don’t know what to say. They don’t know what to do. They don’t know how to treat us anymore.
And at the time when we need people the most…we begin to feel isolated. And, in truth, sometimes we isolate ourselves. Some of the time…we want to be alone. Too much energy is required to “keep up the facade of ‘I’m okay.’” Some times, it’s easier to just sit in the chair.
I think it’s essential to find a space – a place – a person – a group – where you and your grief can be seen. Honored. Allowed.
To be allowed to feel everything you are feeling.
To say everything you are thinking.
To share your fears. Your worries. Your concerns. Your regrets.
To be simply exactly who are you are.
No pretending. No façade.
It’s called mourning.
It’s a path to healing.
One of the places you can mourn is in our Guestbook. It’s a safe space where you can let us know “What it’s like to be you today.”
Hope and peace,
Tom
Tuesday, January 6, 2009 9:11 am CST
As I mentioned earlier, I’m now writing for a wonderful website called www.opentohope.com. On an almost daily basis, something new is posted at that site that gives me something to think about. I encourage you to visit it.
Recently, I reworked a Journal Entry I posted here at the end of 2007 and submitted it to www.opentohope.com. The intention of the piece was to provide food for thought for those of us who are learning to live with the death of someone we love…as we approach the beginning of a new year.
I offer it to you again in hopes that something will resonate and feel right to you as we enter the first full week of 2009…
The death of someone we love transforms us. It has to. Over time, we decide whether we are going to consciously participate in that transformation or if the transformation is going to be unconscious. It’s a decision we make daily. As we countdown to the New Year and talk of resolutions, it’s the perfect time to create a plan to consciously participate in our transformation, to consciously create our new life.
Some concrete steps to consider include:
Commit to active mourning. Make the effort to find a therapist, a support group, a “grief buddy.” Healing occurs when you find a safe place where you can excavate, explore and express your grief in the presence of others. Being stoic, pretending, repressing, rejecting, ignoring all that wells up inside of you is not a path to healing.
Commit to going outside and walking in nature every day, even if it’s only for five minutes and you have to force yourself to do it. Build up to ten minutes, then 15 or 20. Lose yourself in nature. Over time, notice the change of seasons. Spring always follows winter. The days get brighter. What appeared to be dead brings forth new life.
Commit to finding ways to release the heavy, burdensome energy stored in your body. A massage therapist cannot only help you physically relax but he/she can help your body release stored energy and even memory that no longer serves you. Consider working with a Reiki master or a Craniosacral therapist. At the very least, the physical touch will be healing.
Commit to spending quiet time with yourself every day, to simply BE with yourself and your new life. Again, even if you have to force yourself to be quiet and alone for five minutes - do it. Over time, five minutes becomes 10, becomes 15, and then 20. If you keep running from yourself and your new life, how can you live it? How can you consciously participate in it? Pray. Meditate. Ask. Listen. Be. Receive. Allow. Surrender. Feel.
Commit to writing in a gratitude journal every day. Do this first thing in the morning or last thing at night. Buy a journal. Put it by your bed. Write five things you are grateful for every day. At first, you may simply be glad another day is over. You may be thankful for the soft pillow, the comfortable bed, the warm blankets. And then you may remember that the first cup of coffee actually tasted good and you’re grateful for that. And one day you notice the sun in the sky.
Commit to being gentle with yourself. Really gentle. Trusting life enough so that you are willing to create new dreams takes time. Lots of time. As the saying goes, we often take one step forward and two steps back. Healing is a process. It’s a journey. Be gentle.
As this New Year unfolds, set the intention to heal. Set the intention to consciously participate in your own transformation. A New Year. A New Life.
Is there something you are doing – in this New Year – to consciously participate in your own transformation? To consciously create your new life? If so…perhaps you will share it with us in the Guestbook? We’d love to hear from you.
Hope and peace,
Tom
Friday, January 2, 2009 10:23 am CST
My wife Trici died 10 years ago yesterday – January 1st.
Had our daughter Erin lived…we’d be celebrating her 20th birthday today – January 2nd.
I’m at a loss for words. As many of us have found, there are times when there simply are no words.
So – we try to make peace with the silence.
I am fortunate to have a spiral notebook that belonged to Trici. In her distinctive handwriting are the words:
Trici Brennan
H.R. 102
Jan. 29, 1972
She was 16.
It’s a collection of poems, quotes and song lyrics that were meaningful to her. Throughout the notebook are the words of e.e. cummings - one of her favorite poets. Of all his poems, this was her favorite:
i carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) I am never without it (anywhere I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that’s keeping the starts apart
i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)
e. e. cummings
