Consider grieving the loss of your family member by taking a trip and spending time together. Sometimes just getting away makes all the difference in the world! A changed perspective, new scenery, time to reflect.
Family faces are
magic mirrors
Looking at
people who
belong to us,
we see the past,
present,
and future.
Gail Lumet Buckley
A trip,it makes your loss, your grief, your work, your vision, and your life easier.
So, I say, this week, plan a trip. You will feel much better because of it.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Death is a teacher?
Leave it to good fortune, a friend, and USA Today! My dear friend brought me a copy of an April issue of the USA Today newspaper so I could read an article about the upcoming Rolling Stones tour. And, there in the same section was an article about a new book, by Erica Brown, entitled: Happier Endings: Overcoming the Fear of Death. Seems like everywhere I go and whatever I read, there is a reference to death. When something is on your mind, you find it everywhere.
In the article, Erica Brown, shares a few spiritual tips for easing the final passage. USA Today's Craig Wilson asked Erica the question, So we're supposed to be happy about dying? Erica replies, "Only if you hate living. Otherwise, it's an unavoidable reality, so we might as well get better at it. As a society, we stink at it now." Then he asked, We have to learn how to die, how? Erica says to "do a life retrospective. Pass down your hard-earned wisdom. Give away your possessions while you are still here to get pleasure from the exchange(because otherwise you may cause all kinds of family wars you never intended). How can death be a teacher? "Death is a teacher if it helps us answer the question: when is the last time you did something for the first time?" Erica says death is an issue that some tend to avoid, but, an issue that you have to talk about.
With the recent passing of my mother, I find much comfort in the fact that she always told me death is the beginning of something new and wonderful. And, I remember once when close to death myself, I felt peace, calm, and divinity. So, for me, I look at death with excitement, expectation and curiosity.
So, we are just left to smile at good fortune, gather information from friends and the newspapers, and, if your lucky, go see a Rolling Stones concert!
In the article, Erica Brown, shares a few spiritual tips for easing the final passage. USA Today's Craig Wilson asked Erica the question, So we're supposed to be happy about dying? Erica replies, "Only if you hate living. Otherwise, it's an unavoidable reality, so we might as well get better at it. As a society, we stink at it now." Then he asked, We have to learn how to die, how? Erica says to "do a life retrospective. Pass down your hard-earned wisdom. Give away your possessions while you are still here to get pleasure from the exchange(because otherwise you may cause all kinds of family wars you never intended). How can death be a teacher? "Death is a teacher if it helps us answer the question: when is the last time you did something for the first time?" Erica says death is an issue that some tend to avoid, but, an issue that you have to talk about.
With the recent passing of my mother, I find much comfort in the fact that she always told me death is the beginning of something new and wonderful. And, I remember once when close to death myself, I felt peace, calm, and divinity. So, for me, I look at death with excitement, expectation and curiosity.
So, we are just left to smile at good fortune, gather information from friends and the newspapers, and, if your lucky, go see a Rolling Stones concert!
Monday, April 15, 2013
Gone From My Sight
Grieving a loss takes it's toll, especially when you say the final goodbye to someone and attend the funeral. Since this post is a day late for that very reason, I thought I'd just post a thought about dying by Henry Van Dyke. It's something to think about.
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at the side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and the sky come to mingle with each other.
Then someone says: "There she is gone!"
"Gone where?'
Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear the load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says: "There, she is gone!" There are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout:
"Here she comes?"
And that is dying.
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at the side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and the sky come to mingle with each other.
Then someone says: "There she is gone!"
"Gone where?'
Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear the load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says: "There, she is gone!" There are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout:
"Here she comes?"
And that is dying.
Sunday, April 7, 2013
A Flicker of Remembrance
I recognize that flicker in your eye, when your were remembering the times with your beloved. The laughs, the tears, the many conversations.
I remember listening to you speak about how Elisabeth Kubler-Ross's 5 stages of grieving gave you insight. You told me about the denial, then the anger, and how you bargainned with God. Then you were depressed for a time. Yet, you understood why your beloved had to go. So, that was your acceptance.
And, when you thought about the places you used to go, you'd pause, becoming distracted. A feeling of emptiness engulfed you as your thoughts swayed to and fro. A flicker of their presence. You told me it helped to read books about coping like, "I'm Sorry For Your Loss," by Lillian L. Meyers, Ph.D.
So, I thought I'd tell you, as I consider my loss, that I noticed a flicker in my eye today. I was remembering the laughs, the tears, and the many conversations with my beloved mother, who, just recently passed. I, like you, have those flickers of remembrance. I guess we all do.
I remember listening to you speak about how Elisabeth Kubler-Ross's 5 stages of grieving gave you insight. You told me about the denial, then the anger, and how you bargainned with God. Then you were depressed for a time. Yet, you understood why your beloved had to go. So, that was your acceptance.
And, when you thought about the places you used to go, you'd pause, becoming distracted. A feeling of emptiness engulfed you as your thoughts swayed to and fro. A flicker of their presence. You told me it helped to read books about coping like, "I'm Sorry For Your Loss," by Lillian L. Meyers, Ph.D.
So, I thought I'd tell you, as I consider my loss, that I noticed a flicker in my eye today. I was remembering the laughs, the tears, and the many conversations with my beloved mother, who, just recently passed. I, like you, have those flickers of remembrance. I guess we all do.
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