The Broken Places

I was watching a promotional ad on television recently for the show "Intervention" and saw a quote from Ernest Hemingway, which read: "The world breaks everyone, and afterward many are strong at the broken places." Hemingway was one of the great American writers of his time, who died in 1961 as a result of suicide. As an aside, Neil Peart of Rush wrote the lyrics to a hauntingly beautiful song called "Losing It" which in part alluded to the rise and fall of Ernest Hemingway.

The first part of this quote: "The world breaks everyone", may seem on the surface to be both morbid and fatalistic. The reality is that if we live long enough, we will become broken by events in the world that are tragic and painful beyond belief. I believe that loss breaks everyone to one degree or another.  When my daughter Jeannine died in 2003, at the age of 18, many parts of me were broken. My faith, my trust in a greater good, my values, my hopes for the future, were all shattered beyond recognition. During my early grief, I never fathomed that the broken parts of me could ever be fixed.  I could not visualize experiencing joy again.

I am in the ninth year of my journey as a parent who has experienced the death of a child and I have been able to find joy and meaning again. In essence, I became stronger at the places that were broken after Jeannine's death. I did it by reading about other parents who became stronger at their broken places after their children died, and finding out how they did it. I also availed myself of the support of other parents who understood my pain and together we discovered how to fix the broken places.

Fixing the broken places of our grief does not mean that our world returns to the way it was before our children died, or that the pain of our loss ever truly goes away. What I believe we learn to do is fix the broken places of our grief in a way that allows us to find significance in a world that is different without our children.  Understanding that our relationships with our children continue after they cross over, and that they communicate signs of their presence has helped fix the broken places of my grief.

There is no time frame for fixing the broken places of our grief. It will take as long as it takes. As long as you are willing to work through your pain of loss, you will eventually learn new ways of dealing with it. Please remember, that hope for the promise of a redefined world after the death of our children, can come from the most unlikely of sources. Just be open to it happening and embrace it when it does.

The Pain of the Holidays

In early grief, it is difficult to find any meaning in pain. After my daughter Jeannine's death in 2003, the pain I experienced in early grief was raw and something that I feared. If I had a choice, I would have avoided it at all costs.  However, as I have learned we need to work through pain in order to be able to find greater meaning in our lives.

During the holidays our grief and pain tends to become more intensified.  The stress of holiday shopping and get togethers are stressful enough. The stress of grief makes these holiday events more stressful. Early on, I just wanted to fast forward to January, and skip the holidays all together.

In the ninth year of my journey as a parent who has experienced the death of a child, the holidays still present unique challenges for me. Thanksgiving and Christmas will be forever associated with the period of Jeannine's illness where I knew in my head and my heart that she was going to die. My expectation is that the pain of my early grief will continue to resurface during the holidays and will continue to until I cross over.

So what is different for me now? I have made a conscious choice to deal with my pain differently. During Thanksgiving dinner at my sister- in law's this year, I was missing the physical presence of my daughter. After dinner I decided to take a walk to clear my head.  I went  to my  deceased mother's former apartment which was less than a mile away. As I got closer to her apartment, I consciously introduced into my thoughts some positive memories of the relationship that Jeannine and my mother had. I immediately began to feel a sense of peace again. Shortly thereafter, the sky was lined three wide with a hundred or more crows flying west to east above me. I have recently begun to embrace Native American teachings about the power of animal medicine and the lessons that they teach.  From reading both Jaime Sams , Medicine Cards  and Ted Andrews, Animal Speaks, I have discovered that crow medicine is about among other things, sacred law as opposed to human law and that unexpected help with problems and obstacles is at hand to bring relief.

After Jeannine died, I realized that conventional wisdom or law was not going to help me adjust to my new reality.  I needed to look at relationships as occurring beyond the physical realm and be attuned to what the universe and all it has to offer was trying to teach me. Once I was able to do this, I began to find a new level of fulfillment in my life, and look at pain differently. 

In the ninth year of my journey after Jeannine's death,  I have discovered that allowing myself to be totally debilitated by pain is not going to improve the quality of the life that I am now destined to lead. I need to continue to evolve as a result of my experience with it.

I am wishing you all peace this holiday season.

A Redefined vs. A Better Self

I have often mentioned to others that I have become a redefined person since my daughter Jeannine died , over eight years ago. I don't say I am a better person, because I am reminded about the comment that a bereaved father made to me recently. The comment was: "Why did my daughter have to die for me to become a better person?" I didn't have an answer for that one, and I doubt that I ever will.

It is easy for me  to discuss with others how Jeannine's death has redefined me, because I am no longer the same person that I was when she was alive. I have discovered that relationships with our loved ones are ongoing and that if you are open to it, our deceased children continue to guide us towards a more enlightened path. As a result I have discovered a heightened sense of spirituality, awareness that all things are somehow connected and increased benevolence and love towards others who have experienced unthinkable loss.

I have also become aware that we can learn from everything around us. The Native Americans teach us that there is spirit in everything, the earth, wind , rain and animals.  A great book that discusses the role of animal medicine in our spiritual journeys is "Medicine Cards" by Jamie Sams.In the last several months of my journey, I have tried to be aware of the animals that regularly cross my path. Whenever I see a particular animal with regularity, I consult the  Sams book ,read the teachings associated with that animal, and try to relate them to what is transpiring in my life in the present. More often than not the teaching corresponds to my present reality, and gives me another tool on my lifelong grief journey.

If we commit to walking in awareness in our grief journeys, we can embrace new lessons from places and entities that we never thought possible before we experienced the death of our loved ones. Now granted, there are days where the pain of the physical absence of my daughter Jeannine outweighs any spiritual or practical lessons learned. However,most days now, I take comfort knowing that Jeannine is my guide on my personal journey of redefinition and enlightenment.

Why Ask Questions

I recently had the honor of being the opening keynote speaker for this years national gathering of the Bereaved Parents of  the USA.   I spoke about the evolution of my grief and observations and lessons learned that have helped me adjust to the reality of life without the physical presence of my daughter Jeannine.

One of the things that I addressed during my speech was the need to ask "what if, "could of ",should of, and "why" questions throughout my early grief ,which was for me about, two and one-half years. I say "for me" because everyone's grief journey is individualized. And since our journeys are life long, the time it takes to navigate early, middle and later grief is irrelevant. What is relevant is that we consistently do our grief work with the help and support of others who understand our pain. 

Asking questions is an expected part of our journeys as bereaved parents .  The rules I lived by changed after Jeannine died , so questioning what happened was required to try to make sense out of what happened to me and my family.

Here are some of the  should of and would of and why questions I consistently asked . What if I convinced Jeannine to do one more clinical trial? Should I have done more to protect her from her disease? If I wasn’t so oblivious to the condition of her foot, could I have gotten her evaluated sooner? And more so, why did she have to die and why was my family forced to bear this terrible pain and suffering. I asked and I asked and I asked, but no answer I came up with or rationalized seemed to satisfy me or change the reality of my situation.I was like a cat chasing its tail.  The only satisfactory resolution to my questions   would have been to have God himself come down from heaven and inform me and my family that  he was going to reverse his decision, give Jeannine back to us  and return things to the way they were. Because I knew this wasn't possible  I eventually stopped asking those questions. And when I stopped asking the questions, I got the answers that I needed. As a result, I was able to find joy and meaning again without the physical presence of Jeannine.

 

The Significance of Pain

I think if we all had a choice, we would want to live our lives without emotional pain. Considering that we do not live in a Utopian society, the avoidance of pain is impossible. Pain and loss is and always will be a part of our existence.  Many bereaved individuals that I know have been able to thrive in the midst of catastrophic loss because of their ability to use their pain to learn how to become better people and help others.

As I have mentioned in previous posts and articles, our grief journeys are circular. We can experience the pain of loss at anytime depending on what is happening to us in the present. I still periodically experience the pain of my daughter Jeannine's physical absence in my life. I do not shy away from it, but rather try to ask: "What is my pain trying to teach me about my journey?"  A few months ago, I came across a speech Jeannine did when she was a middle school student. Finding it, brought up fresh feelings of emotional pain. However, as I read her speech, I found that it contained a  simple, valuable lesson that I will use to emphasize the importance of adequate support for the bereaved and the need for them to share their stories in communities that support ongoing connection to their loved ones.

In early grief, we are usually too consumed by the emotional pain resulting from the physical absence of our loved ones, to view our pain as a teacher of life lessons. The emphasis(at least for me) was to survive it and to blindly keep looking for a ray of hope. But now I have tried to see my pain as an ally, something that will eventually help me to see new paths or learn new lessons on my journey. Some days I am better at it then other days, but such is the imperfect nature of our journeys.  But perfection is not something to strive for in the midst of unbearable loss; resilience is, however.

I encourage all of you to look at pain from a different perspective. Once you experience and eventually detach from the pain, additional truths about your journey or other directions to explore, may come to light.

Past into Present and Future

Since my daughter Jeannine's death over eight years ago, I learned that the only thing that I could control was the present moment. Being able to control the present made it easier to allow the universe to take care of my future.  However, I have recently begun to discover the role of the past in enhancing my quality of life in the present and..... future.

During a trip to Long Island last year, my dear friend Patty, introduced me to the power of animal medicine. The lessons that animals can teach us is beautifully described in the book, Medicine Cards: The Discovery of Power Through The Ways of Animals, by Jamie Sams, a book which I ordered soon after my trip ended. I never had considered our animal kingdom friends as sources of inspiration, teaching and wisdom while Jeannine was alive. However, since Jeannine's death, I have learned to embrace a lot of non-ordinary phenomenon to provide clarity and direction in a world without her physical presence . I had to embrace different methods and ways to adjust to my new circumstances, because, frankly, my old ways of thinking about and relating to the world no longer applied. So when my friend presented the medicine card book to me, I believed that this would be another unique way  to learn lessons about myself, the world and my grief journey. When I got home, I recorded every animal that crossed my path in my journal, consulted the Sams book, and wrote the messages that I believed they were trying to convey to me. The messages were always relevant to what was going on with me in the present moment.

Earlier last month, there was a stretch of several days where I saw crows everywhere. They would be on the side of the road  or flying over my car . Another time two of them were walking unceremoniously across my yard, while I was enjoying a morning cup of coffee.   I consulted the Sams book and discovered that one of the teachings of crow medicine involves "balancing the past, present and future in the now."  Sams summed this perspective up very eloquently: "Honor the past as your teacher, honor the present as your creation,and honor the future as your inspiration." I thought I had been attempting to live this mantra since Jeannine died, but crow apparently thought I was missing something , because he just wouldn't go away.

I didn't fully understand what crow was trying to teach me until I had a recent session with a  Holistic Practitioner named Susan, who specializes in,among other things,working with body energy.  Her energy readings indicated that there were family and childhood issues that were evident . They also surfaced in the two previous sessions that I had with her.  I told her that my favorite uncle, who had died when I was 14  was prominent in my thoughts lately. It then occurred to me that I needed to honor his past influence on me, in the present.  When I verbalized this insight,  Susan suggested that I create a sacred space containing inanimate objects representing my ancestors (aunts, uncles ,grandparents, mother,father and of course, Jeannine) and acknowledge the positive influence that they have had on me. I took her advice and began to set aside some time a couple of times a week to acknowledge the qualities that they passed down to me that has helped me in the present, and that would help me in the future. I found that doing this also gave me peace and a sense that my ancestors, in addition to Jeannine ,have had an influence on my grief journey from the beginning.

Once I discovered that crow wanted me to more fully honor the influence of my ancestors,in the present and future, he stopped making his presence known to me. However, I suspect that I will continue to discover the power of animals throughout my grief journey and continue to embrace the lessons that they teach.

Sometimes We All Need a Break

The journey after the death of a loved one is emotionally draining and physically exhausting, particularly in the early stages of grief(which I see as minimally ,two years).  It is also easy to feel some guilt because we will experience moments of joy during early grief. It is almost as if it is sacrilegious to experience  some  happiness without the physical presence of our loved ones . Those moments of joy will present themselves whether we want them to or not. When they do,embrace those moments for however long they last. You may find that those moments of joy give you welcome respite from the pain of loss, and eventually gives you a reason to  live your life again by celebrating the life of your loved ones.

About two weeks after my daughter Jeannine died, I went to see Bela Fleck and the Flecktones at the Turning Stone Casino, with some good friends.  I had seen them perform several times before and they play with a passion and level of musicianship that is simply unparalleled.  For two hours, their energy  joy and playful spirit that they communicated through their music gave me a temporary respite from my pain and put a smile on my face. I would encourage you to expend the effort in early grief to do things that give you some joy. You may find that not only will it give you temporary relief from your pain, but that eventually you may develop a renewed sense of purpose . 

Experience joy without the weight of guilt. We are not equipped to experience the intense pain of loss 24 hours a day, seven days a week.

What I have come to discover during the eight years after my daughter Jeannine's death is that life is this wondrous mix of joy, pain, and challenges.  Our ability to be totally present in those joyful moments and learn from the pain and challenges that life presents, will determine the quality of our life after loss.

The Passage of Time

I  discovered this quote from singer/songwriter Jack Johnson, on one of my facebook friend's profile. It reads like this:

" And if they tell you love fades over time,tell them there is no such thing as time. "


Many expectations in our society have revolved around having a set time period for resolving our grief. In six months to a year it was generally expected that one would "be over" their grief and return to life as we knew it. The reality is that any loss we experience permanently changes our world and that there is no set time period to resolve it. For many of us who have experienced losses that have defied the laws of the universe( such as the death of a child), our world is forever changed and we never get over our loss. We  get through it by learning to live with both joy and sadness, while simultaneously making a decision to find meaning again by celebrating our children's lives. In the process we find meaning through service to others.  There is no set time frame. As individuals, we all take different paths to finding meaning as a result of our struggles with loss. We need to be able to unconditionally support every individual's journey and bear witness to it. Also,we can experience the intense pain of loss at anytime during our journeys, depending what is going on with us in the present moment. One, five, ten or twenty years, it doesn't matter. Our grief journeys are circular rather than linear.
The death of my daughter Jeannine has taught me to re-evaluate not only my values but the traditional expectation that time heals all wounds. Time hasn't and won't heal the wounds for me associated with the physical absence of Jeannine. What the passage of time has helped me do is adjust to her physical absence and develop a different kind of relationship with her.  My earthly journey and spiritual relationship will continue to evolve until the day that I cross over.  And then......... it will continue, for eternity.

Peace In My Time

As I rapidly approach Jeannine's eighth angelversary date( 3/1) I find myself being more at peace with her physical absence. Don't get me wrong, there are days when the pain of her absence is and will be as intense as it was in my early grief, but overall I have felt less emotional turmoil than in past years. I think that in addition to being able to better manage the emotional roller coaster of my grief, I have developed a greater level of understanding about the wondrous  spiritual relationship that I enjoy with Jeannine, that is ongoing and dynamic. I always felt that my relationship with Jeannine was ongoing, but the past few months have taken my understanding to a whole new level. And for that I am grateful.

I am also grateful for the number of wonderful people who have graced me with their presence on my journey. I have also discovered that the support network I have during my eighth year of my journey is different than it was in the beginning. Many of the people who offered their support in the beginning are not a part of my current support network now. In my early grief, I would have lamented about their absence. Today, I realize that they were just as important to my adjustment to life without the physical presence of Jeannine. I have come to believe that the connections that I made with them were destined to be for a short period of time. It is unrealistic to believe that our support network will ever stay the same. What is important to me is that we continue to recognize the need for ongoing support and utilize those individuals who can best support us in our journeys, at the present time.  We may make lifetime connections or not, but any quality support we can avail ourselves of is all good.

May your days be peaceful and fulfilling.

" Change 'll happen whether we are still or moving" -From the song "Little Heaven" by Toad the Wet Sprocket"

Warren Zevon

Warren Zevon was a brilliant American songwriter and musician who made many brilliant recordings during his lifetime. He was diagnosed in 2002 with inoperable mesothelioma and died in September of 2003. He refused treatments that he thought would interfere with the quality of his remaining life and decided instead to use the time left to record his final album ,The Wind.  A true work of art, this recording contains a stunning cover of Bob Dylan's ,Knocking on Heaven's Door and a hauntingly beautiful song called Keep Me in Your Heart.  Whenever I hear the latter song, it reminds me of both the importance of remembering and staying connected to our loved ones who have crossed over. The Wind was one of the first Cd's that I purchased after my daughter Jeannine died in 2003.  I admire Zevon for using the knowledge of his impending death to make perhaps his most significant contribution to the American music scene.

One of the most important lessons that can be learned from Warren Zevon's life is how he chose to handle his impending death. Rather than run away from it, he embraced it as an opportunity to make one last recording whose message will resonate with many generations to come.

Some Lessons That I Have Learned on My Journey

Since my daughter Jeannine died, at the age of 18 almost eight years ago, I have learned many valuable lessons  :
1. The more that we allow the universe to be our guide,the more that our redefined purpose becomes clearer.
2. We do experience joy again in a world that has forever changed because of the physical absence of our loved ones.
3. Look all around you, not just straight ahead. You may find a bright light of hope through a dark cloud.
4.When you open yourself up to a continuing bond with your deceased loved ones, that bond may transcend to others in your life.
5. Shared pain with others who understand that pain is a gateway to hope.
6. Surrender to the journey, surrender my life to God.
7. That the best parts of my daughter are now a part of me. Pieces of Jeannine are now pieces of me.

Take care

Dave

What Dosen't Kill Us

I am sure that at one time or another we have heard the  expression: "What doesn't kill us only makes us stronger." It is an expression that I believe is meant to provide comfort and encouragement to those who have experienced a death.  Several people said that to me after my daughter Jeannine died.  I had trouble  buying into that concept, and certainly wasn't comforted and encouraged by it. When Jeannine died , I experienced a death of another kind. Very simply, a part of me died when Jeannine did.  In my early grief ,what appeared as strength to others ,was survival to me.  My struggle with Jeannine's death eventually forced me to re-evaluate my beliefs, values and priorities in a world where she was not physically present. I was able to identify a new purpose in life that involved finding meaning by (among other things) companioning other parents who have experienced the death of a child.  So for me it was: "What killed me, ended up redefining me."

Wishing you all peace and enlightenment on your life journeys

The Musical Journey of Grief

First of all I hope that everyone had a very joyful and fun filled long weekend. I have frequently said that no two people grieve alike. I believe that extends to creative ways of expressing our pain of loss as well. After my daughter Jeannine's death in 2003, music was the primary vehicle that I used to express the raw pain of my early grief. It was also my primary means of staying connected to Jeannine after she died. I think that music was a primary form of expression for me because of: 1) my love of it, 2) Jeannine's love of it, 3) the shared memories that we had involving music.  Before I go on, I must tell you that I do not play an instrument and my singing is not pretty on a good day. But I have a deep appreciation for brilliant music and lyrics . During my early grief , a song or even certain lyrics from a song helped me conceptualize how I was feeling and brought me some comfort. Now , during later grief, music continues to provide me with not only comfort, but joy again, particularly when I hear a song that Jeannine and I both loved.

Artists like the Counting Crows, Wallflowers, Tom Petty, Jackson Browne, The Goo Goo Dolls and Jackson Browne have at one time or another been a part of my support community that has allowed me to adjust to the reality of life without the physical presence of Jeannine. Two of the best memories that I have of Jeannine and my life together were at two Goo Goo Dolls concerts.

There are many other creative ways that we can express our grief. I encourage anyone dealing with loss to find that creative outlet that best connects you with your child or loved one. After all it is never about letting go, but always about hanging on.

Let it Be

 During my journey after Jeannine's death, I have discovered that the people who have graced my life, more often than not have found me ,more than I have found them. The opportunities that I have had to be of service to others has pretty much developed in the same fashion.

What does this all mean? Does it mean that if we put no effort into bettering our situation that good fortune will automatically grace us with its presence?  What it means to me is that our ability to make the most out of the present moment, allows us to develop the faith and trust in the universe to meet our spiritual and emotional needs.Trust that the universe knows what we need and will help us fulfill or redefine those needs in time.  My ability to develop faith and trust in a divine plan greater than mine has allowed me to develop more peace, joy and purpose amidst sadness, in a world lacking the physical presence of my daughter Jeannine.

There are days where I do struggle with staying in the present because of the emotional roller coaster that is a part of our journeys as bereaved parents.  But I find now that I am usually able to manage those days better and not beat myself up for having them. Progress made on this journey is never progress lost.


I wish you all the best wishes for a wondrous New Year filled with joy and self-discovery.