Jan 10 2010
Grief and Bereavement Healing
As many of you know, I lost my beloved Nan just before Christmas.
Thank you for your messages of support and comfort.
Her funeral was on New Year’s Eve, 31st December, 2009. This was the same day that my Grandad, her husband, had died 14 years ago and was the day of the Triple FULL MOON, which was all about endings and new beginnings.
In the end I chose not to go to her funeral, partly because of concerns over the snow, ice and ungritted roads and partly because I really did not think I would be able to control myself emotionally and not end up in as a total gibbering wreck in the corner.
This was especially compounded by the fact that the after-funeral gathering was to be held at her house, where I had spent most of my childhood and all the happy family Christmas holidays of years gone by.
I really dislike funerals. I know they serve the purpose of a final good-bye to the person’s physical body, but do they really have to be so sad?
I remember years ago, I went with my Nan to see her brother, who had just died and was laid out in the Chapel of Rest at the Funeral Director’s Building. I thought at the time how “plastic” and “artificial” he looked and vowed then, I would never do that again!
For ages afterwards, whenever I thought of him, that image in the Chapel of Rest came to mind. That was not him, that was not the quirky, fun-loving, ex-soldier that I remembered.
My Nan had been my rock all my life. I had spent most of many childhood with her and she was the person who had always provided a stabilising influence in my life.
I felt I needed to remember her in my own private way and to deal with my grief over her passing in my own way, which is what I have been doing.
I realised I was bottling up my feelings and I was not dealing with them, I was pushing the feelings back down and finding something more “constructive” to do rather than crying.
A friend kindly sent me a book about healing grief and one of the first things it said was about allowing all of those emotions to be fully expressed in my body and being- so, in other words, let myself cry until I could cry no more.
I got my journal out and started to write. I wanted to know what was I really feeling and what was underneath this sadness.
As I started to write, all sorts of things started to come up.
There were wonderful childhood memories of playing in the hay fields, my Nan pushing me on the swing in the park, of days on the beach in the summer, of Nan making cakes in the kitchen and me and my cousin fighting over who was going to scrape out the remnants of cake mixture from the bowl, of Christmas Day lunches for 14, of Nan welcoming my friends and boyfriends into her home, of tea and biscuits or home-made cake in the kitchen and floods of other memories.
There were other things that then started to float to the surface of times when I had not treated her very well, or when I had been rude or ungracious or ungrateful or had taken her for granted or treated her less than kindly.
Interestingly, I don’t recall that she ever criticised or judged me or even reprimanded me for bad behaviour. Her unconditional love never seemed to change.
Underneath the sorrow for her loss was then my own feelings of guilt, of self-blame, of recrimination and feeling like a very bad person for the the way I had sometimes treated her and some of the things I had done.
One of the interesting chapters I had read in my friend’s book was that “it takes two to tango,” meaning that my Nan had been a willing party in our whole relationship. For her own reasons, she had also allowed the relationship to develop and unfold as it did. This included all the good times and the not do good times.
Once I was able to come to that realisation, the whole room was filled with a deep sense of love and peace. My Nan was with me as we were working through this process together. I could feel her presence, I could hear her words and I could feel this immense love coming from her.
I don’t know what her reasons or motivations were for putting up with me. However we both played a part in the dance of life that we had chosen before we incarnated in this lifetime.
As I continued to write, I realised that I was very angry with my Nan for leaving me and passing on. How dare she leave? She has left a huge whole that no-one else could possibly fill?
As the anger passed through me, I realised I was also angry at myself.
Perhaps I could have done more for her when she lived with us from 1996 – 2001, perhaps I could have helped her more and got her moving after she fell over on Christmas Day 2000, perhaps I could have made her feel more welcome? Perhaps? Perhaps? Perhaps?
We were starting to get into a really uncomfortable place now and the call of a cup of coffee or a dog walk or something other than this painful exploration process, was calling very strongly to me!
It is a very good job that this journal is for my eyes only!
I finally came to a point where the tears had eased, the intense feelings and emotions seemed to have subsided and nothing more was coming out of my pen. I felt totally drained and totally exhausted.
The final words I worte in my journal were, “I am sorry for all the things I have done, please forgive me , I love you so much and I am so grateful that you have been a part of my life.” The answer that I heard back was “All is well, I love you!”
I then found myself reaching for a meditation that I created several years ago, called “Relaxation for the Bereaved- Heal the Grief.”
As the relaxation moved through the energy centres, I could feel all the remnants of anger, resentment, bitterness, frustration and unspoken words gently leaving me.
Writing is one thing for releasing, feeling them dissolve is quite another.
Although my Nan had been with me through the whole writing process, it was lovely to meet her again and see her in the beautiful healing surroundings of a special place and feel surrounded by love and peace.
No doubt, there will still be tears when I think of my Nan, however I feel that I have been able to release the intensity of the negative emotions. My healing journey has moved on quite considerably.
I feel that I have made my peace with her, that everythign that needed to be said has been said and that I can remember her from a place of joy and laughter – and of course, the world’s most yummiest chocolate cake ever!
Thank you, Nan for everything you have contributed to my life. I love you and I am so grateful to you.
Rest in Peace.
Amanda
12 Responses to “Grief and Bereavement Healing”
Nice message Amanda!
My dad died Dec 30, 2009. We were not close during the last years of his life. Long, complicated story that I can’t go into right now.
We kinda made amends 6 mos before he died.
I forgave him for what happened, but he didn’t seem to be able to deal with “his” own forgiveness….untill the day he passed.
I went to see him the day after the nursing home called, and he passed 20 later. I believe he forgave himself, and was at peace.
I think we all feel that we can heal someone else, but they must heal themselves for it to really bring them peace.
Thanks again for the message in your blog!!
Carol
Hi Carol,
Yes I agree.
The issue of forgiveness is a very difficult one.
We can forgive others, however they also have to forgive themselves for true healing to take place.
Like you, I feel that I have let go of it all from my side and hope that my Nan has been able to from her side.
Thanks for your post.
Amanda
I lost my Nan in May and the grief still lingers very heavily around me. I am struggling to accept that she has finally gone and amazed that there has been no spiritual sense of her. The last few years of her life were horrendous in some ways as she was at the mercy of inept carers and there was nothing I could do. Given that she was my primary carer when I was a child and we very close – this feels dreadful
I await some solace but nothing has helped me so far
Anita
X
l lost my son and l am still struggling to keep on living and since l lost my mum and dad l feel lost because my mum was the one who love me true love
Hi
I lost my 4 year old son 22 years ago. He started being ill on Christmas Eve and they turned the machines off on New Years Eve. I still have not been able to really get over my loss. It’s the worse time of year for me. When everyone else seems to be preparing for the festive season, I am always preparing myself to deal with my loss. I always try to make Christmas good for my children, but I can never really enjoy myself. Something is always missing.
Dear Amanda and all readers,
I, too, have experienced the incomparable pain of the loss of a loved one. My thoughts are with you.
It’s very good to know you’ve been so proactive in your healing, Amanda. I never did the work of journaling and asking myself the hard questions when my wonderful father died 7 years ago.
At the time I was swimming in grief, and all I could think to do was ask my dad to give me strength.
I swear to you he heard me and, just to give 1 example, I had the responsibility of delivering the clothes he was to be buried in to the funeral home. I feel as you do Amanda, about funeral homes and all that takes place there, so I literally shook as I headed over in the car.
I said out loud, “Help me do this, dad” I then reached over to turn on the radio. It was playing my father’s favorite song, which was an oldie, and it was being played on a contemporary pop station… suddenly I was filled with peace and strength, I felt that I wasn’t doing this unthinkable chore on my own, dad was along for the ride, enjoying his music!
That was the 1st of so many experiences I’ve had which can only be explained by the fact that our loved ones never really leave us, they simply change form.
Pardon my lengthy message, something told me it might be worthwhile to share it although I understand it will not be aligned with everyone’s beliefs. Peace to all.
We just lost my father-in-law on Friday, January 8, 2010. We were as close as if he was my own father. It has been a roller coaster ride and especially hard because I sensed his loosing the will to live. I promised my mother-in-law I would take care of him and I hope that I fulfilled her wishes. I miss him and have only one regret that I didn’t quit my job and take care of him at home.
Hi,
Grieving a loss brings to the surface lots of suppressed issues and recriminations. I think it is important to not only think of grieving in relation to death (loss) but the absence of what was. For example, a relationship, job, home, friendships, just to name a few. To embrace grieiving as a part of life’s process when it comes to experiencing loss, seems to have a more positive impact on our lives and makes the acceptance much easier in facing that which is no longer. Grieving can be associated with emotions that many find imply weakness if it involves crying. Actually, crying is very healthy and cleansing. As Amanda shared, in her moments of sadness which seemed dark, she was able to see the light in the love she shared over the years with her Nan. Allowing ourselves to grieve can bring us to peaceful moments as denial of what is being felt can only create chaos and other negative emotions. Offering love and compassion to ourselves and receiving the same from others lets us recognize how valuable we are and allows us to remember the best of what the lost situation gave to our lives. The idea of journaling to reflect on our feeling in private also allows us to see our own paths and journies. Let me say, by no means am I implying that grieving is an easy feat but one that is worth it for us if we allow ourselves to do so truthfully. Sending love and wishes of peace to all who have experienced anything they may perceive as a devastating loss.
Dear Amanda,
My sincere sympathy goes out to you and your family on the loss of your Nan. I understand how difficult it is losing a loved one, let alone, just before a pivotal point in time. My thoughts and prayers are with you.
I lost my Father on December 9, 1998. That Christmas was extremely difficult for everyone in my family. The strange part about it was that each one of my sisters (I have 5) and my Mother, including myself had already purchased Dad’s Christmas present! I think that was a first. (We were always searching for the appropriate gift right up to Christmas!) Even though it has been 11 years, the emptiness is still there. The hurt has finally subsided, but the love and great memories are still there! And, Lisamarie, I also had a “favorite song” experience after my dad had passed. Many times I will notice something that dad would have done or said. At those times, I smile and know that he is always near.
Now what I am dealing with is that I lost my best friend and co-worker, Deb, to cancer in October of 2006, and my young greyhound, Freckles, in November of 2007. Even though they were 13 months apart, I still hurt from these losses. It felt like a double-punch in a boxing ring. I wasn’t over the first loss and the second one hit. Many times I have cried myself to sleep from the emptiness and pain of these losses. They were two beautiful souls. I had adopted this greyhound from my local SPCA one month before Deb died. (Was that timing for a reason or a purpose?) After her funeral, I came home. I bent down to say hello to Freckles. She sniffed my eyes, pushed my glasses down and kissed my eyes. She was comforting me and taking away the tears. She was very gentle and a definite healer. That’s why I miss her so much.
I send hugs of love, peace and comfort to all who have experienced grief. May you be abundantly blessed.
x o x o x o
Gloria
Dear Amanda
I lost my Uncle on New Year’s Eve last year.He died from a massive heart attack whilst shopping in the village.
Last year from that point my Mother’s life was turned upside down.She shared a house with him as she had looked after my Grandmother who had suffered from Parkinson’s Disease during her latter years and Duncan( her brother) could not cope .
In his Will he cut her out completely and left the bulk to his business partner and the remainder divided between his 6 nephews and nieces.
We lost our family home and Mum now lives in Scotland with my sister.
To forgive has been the hardest thing as Mum has been so upset over his betrayal.Time does heal.The pain is still there but we have learnt that anger and tears don’t help and Duncan had his reasons and life goes on.
Most of us can speak abut him with affection.Mum can remininsce about her childhood and laugh once more.
We have always been a tight knit family – mostly I think because Mum brought the 6 of us up by herself when Dad walked out but this has brought us even closer.
The human heart and spirit are extraordinary but I believe we have now made peace and we must move on with our lifes.
There will be other heartbreaks and tests but we will come through.
Thank you to everyone for sharing your stories and for your kind words. My heart goes out to everyone who is in pain.
The human spirit is incredibly strong and it is often from that place of pain that we can find our greatest strenght – and a huge amount of love for ourselves and for those around us.
Amanda
I’m sorry for your loss Amanda. I am sure that reading your post will help others to start healing.