MicheleN

The Weight of Wishing

 Posted by MicheleN on October 18, 2010  General  No Responses »
Oct 182010
 

Every once in awhile I am able to see myself through another person’s eyes; sort of like looking up and seeing an image in a mirror, and then realizing the face that is reflected there is your own. The observations from these unguarded moments usually provide some serious food for thought.

Recently I went to see the movie Brothers. I will leave out the movie review, but will tell you that I would probably not have watched this show had I not been with a friend who really wanted to see the film. Brief synopsis: An excellent family man who is in the military goes back for a second tour of duty and ends up being captured. His family thinks he is dead, and grieves his loss. He is then restored to them (this part really hurt…I wished so many times that Phil’s death was actually just a terrible mistake??) but has been altered due to the horrific experience of being held captive. Not a feel good movie by any stretch of the imagination.

There was a scene, however, that provided a glimpse into my life. At one point the bad boy character is trying to help his brother’s widow “feel better.” He plans a birthday party for her, complete with a cake baked by her two adorable girls. There are guests, decorations, gifts, candles, and of course everyone yells surprise as she walks in the door. Then the camera pans around the room and you see the exact same look on every face. Expectancy. Did it work? Is she happy? Will she stop wearing the look of grief on her face? Have we communicated to her how much we love her? ARE WE ENOUGH? And that last one hit me right in the stomach. Because as widowed people we constantly carry around the weight of other’s concerns, fears, sadness, and yes, their wishes for our ultimate happiness…as we are observed, discussed, fretted over, and advised by good meaning folks of all types. Continue reading »

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Widowed Parents

 Posted by MicheleN on October 4, 2010  General  No Responses »
Oct 042010
 

Parenting is both overwhelmingly rewarding, and unrelentingly challenging. Some days we glow with pride at the accomplishments of our little angels; other days we may wonder how our best laid plans went awry. Sharing parental duties with a wonderful partner definitely helps manage the roller coaster ride we call parenthood…there is someone to discuss options with, another person who loves the kids as much you do to listen to your rant about their current behavior, an additional carpool driver, and someone else to go over the math homework.

But for some parents the time they have to raise their children with the person they love is cut tragically short. For widowed people with children the common concerns of parenthood are eclipsed by the shadow of grief. Questions of which diaper to use are replaced by fears that their child won’t remember mommy or daddy. Some children’s first written words are, “Why did my mommy or daddy have to die?” Nine year olds may apply the extra emotion of loss to the smallest disappointment leading to angry tantrums fueled by missing a beloved parent. Teenage angst, scary territory under the best of circumstances, is greatly complicated by the tumult of death and loss. Perhaps the heaviest weight for widowed parents to carry is the fact that they often provide the road map for their children that shows them how to grieve.  Do we cry? Do we say our loved one’s name? Do we remember aloud? Do we continue our regular routines? Do we shut down, speed up, or spin in place?

How can widowed parents survive the searing pain of losing a partner, and also assume the role of only parent?  Each family’s route to healing is unique, but some common themes may help pave the way. Seek a compassionate family counselor. Join a group that addresses death and grief in age appropriate forums. Find ways to help your children store their memories. Honestly access your financial situation. Accept help when it is offered. Know that you have limits and you have needs. Allow your friends and family to drive carpool, help with homework, and buy groceries; they want to help. Try to arrange time away from the kids to sob and rage without witnesses. Cry in the shower. Know that children grieve in a new way at every developmental stage. Live in the moment and try to let tomorrow take care of itself. And finally, laugh, play, paint, watch a funny movie, blow bubbles~ let the inherent joy of your children be a balm for your family soul.

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When Someone You Love is Grieving

 Posted by MicheleN on September 20, 2010  General  1 Response »
Sep 202010
 

Death is an inevitable part of the circle of life. Yet the final separation of one loved one from another often leaves bystanders feeling helpless, and maybe at a loss for what to say or how to help those who are left behind. When my husband died in an accident almost five years ago, I couldn’t think of one single thing that anyone could do to ease my pain. I felt as though half my body had been ripped away without warning; leaving me in a state of shock and aching to put my arms around the man I loved. In the face of this kind of pain, what is a friend to do? How can you reach out to someone who doesn’t answer the phone? When is insisting to help overstepping a boundary? Is there any practical thing that will ease the pain of someone who is grieving the loss of a spouse, a parent, a child, a friend? Should we mention the name of the person who has died, or does that inflict additional pain?  Here are a few suggestions for small kindnesses that do make a difference when reaching out to someone grieving the loss of someone they love.

1.)    Speak from your heart.  Words do matter, and shared memories of a loved one are priceless. If you remember something specific about the person who has died please share your memories. Being told stories we have never heard about the loved ones we have lost is a gift that validates the impact their life had on others.

2.)    Be yourself. Speak in a way and behave in a way that is natural for you. Continue the same relationship you had before: close friend, acquaintance, friendly neighbor, or friend of a friend. Offer help only if you are able to follow through, and in a way that makes sense in your life. Can you drive the carpool? Offer to drop off a meal? Mow the lawn once a week without even knocking on the door? Take the kids for a play date for the afternoon? Small kindnesses go a long way. Continue reading »

My Inner Voice

 Posted by MicheleN on September 6, 2010  General  No Responses »
Sep 062010
 

Decision making was never difficult for me.  Options don’t often confuse me, and once I have made a choice I rarely question myself. Over my lifetime I have come to realize that many people engage in a mental wrestling match with every decision they make, and I have regularly been grateful that my mind and I generally agree pretty quickly. And then came widowhood.

One of the most disturbing aspects of widowhood for me was the about face I experienced in my decision making abilities. My previously certain mind betrayed me at every turn. When your spouse dies an avalanche of decisions that must be made immediately begins, and then an on-going slide of questions to be answered by the last person standing continues. The first heart wrenching choices to be made included: whether or not to donate his organs (you have to make this one in less than 24 hours), burial vs. cremation, what type and how many memorial services to have, and will you be purchasing a monument Mrs. Hernandez? Once these choices were made I began to second guess each one asking myself repeatedly if I made the right choice.

The decision making process did not get any easier as the weeks and months passed. I discovered that I was entering the wrestling match of the uncertain on a daily basis without regard for the importance of the choice to be made.  Was I doing this task correctly? Should I purchase the blue or the brown sheet set? Water the grass every other day or every third day? One minute option A seemed best, the next minute I was more inclined to go with option B. I found myself seeking advice on choices large or small; allowing myself to be swayed toward my advisors way of thinking regardless of what my own instincts were telling me. Buy a new fence or fix the old? Sell Phil’s truck or keep it? Get a gardener or teach the kids how to mow the lawn? Vacation or no vacation? The list went on and on….making a decision of any sort became a monumental effort. I lost confidence in myself, and began to believe that everyone else knew what I needed better than I did. Until one day when a well meaning friend stepped over the line regarding my privacy, and a little voice sounded inside my head…”He did not just do that!” Hearing the familiar sound of my own voice I realized in one mind blowing moment how much of my daily life I was allowing to be determined by what other people thought, felt, knew, said, or sometimes even ordered. The silence of my inner voice suddenly became deafening. Continue reading »

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My Husband’s Favorite Sweatshirt

 Posted by MicheleN on August 23, 2010  General  2 Responses »
Aug 232010
 

For the first few weeks after Phil’s death anything that had touched his body was sacred. His shoes were sitting where he last left them, his lunchbox remained on top of the refrigerator, and his toothbrush was standing next to mine in the holder. One day I found an eyelash of his and pressed it into a plastic rosary holder for safekeeping. Three days before he died, he was working in our attic and left dirty fingerprints on the top of the door in our bedroom. I was annoyed when I saw the black marks on our white door, and made a mental note to ask him to clean off the prints. Those black marks now hold a place of honor on my otherwise white door.

In those early days I didn’t handle Phil’s things very often—I  was afraid of losing his scent or masking that unique smell with my own. But after a few months, as shock wore off and reality started to press in around me, I became desperate for the comfort of Phil’s arms. One morning I woke up crying (again) and wrapped my own arms around myself trying to imagine that my limbs were his. Rocking back and forth in the middle of my bed I looked up and caught sight of one of his sweatshirts. Even as I literally ached for his touch, I weighed the value of wearing his clothes against the risk of losing even a tiny part of him. With a limited supply of his things their value became immeasurable. But I needed him, so I pulled that sweatshirt over my head. Immediately I felt as if he had wrapped me in a tight hug, and I lay my head on his strong chest and cried my eyes out.

That moment was a milestone for me. I stopped withholding the comfort of wearing his clothes from myself, and just reveled in the warmth of knowing I was wearing a part of him. I slept in his t-shirts, wore his slippers to get the paper, pulled on his raincoat when it poured, and adopted his favorite running shirt as my own. I was layered in Phil, and I loved every minute. Continue reading »

Looking Out the Window

 Posted by MicheleN on August 9, 2010  General  No Responses »
Aug 092010
 

My friend Michelle came into my life in November of 2005.  Around that time, grieving my husband had become my full-time job—I did everything else part-time.  Two months after Phil’s death my life was settling into a pattern of managing widowhood, and single parenthood, one challenge at a time.  In the aftermath of my husband’s death, my friends and family still kept an eye on me, but at the end of every day my most reliable companion was grief…until early November, when I got a call from my sister Debi, asking for my help.  My brother-in-law’s cousin had lost her husband to cancer the week before, and Debi wondered if I would write her a note.  She thought I might know, better than anyone else, what to say to her.

 

The interesting thing was I didn’t feel like I knew anything about being a widow…except that it was thrust upon me, and it wasn’t optional.  Sitting at my desk thinking of what to write, I finally settled on the truth—I was so sorry she lost her husband and the months ahead wouldn’t be easy, but I was available to talk anytime she wanted.  Four months later she accepted my offer, and we began a relationship that has changed my life. Continue reading »

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Learning to Focus

 Posted by MicheleN on July 26, 2010  General  2 Responses »
Jul 262010
 

The death of someone instrumental in our lives instantly changes our view of the world. Ordinary things are suddenly fraught with meaning, and insignificant moments become unexpectedly precious.  After my husband Phil’s death I remember thinking that grief swooped in and stole my rose colored glasses…leaving me with a pair of dark shades instead.

This darker world view made every life celebration bittersweet…or sometimes just plain bitter. Movies became minefields, attending weddings became tortuous, walking down the street beside hand holding couples made me feel nauseous, and stopping for lunch alone during my workday often reduced me to tears. While grey was the dominant color in my life I generally felt either sad or numb, with not much in between. Sometimes when a bit of color would filter through the haze (a flash of genuine happiness for example), I felt almost burned. My immediate reaction to light became turning away from the source, and pulling my new shades down over my eyes to keep the world in a comfortable state of darkness.

I can’t tell you exactly when my shades started allowing the penetration of light…but they did. One day I genuinely smiled. Another day I laughed so hard that my sides hurt. Every now and then I could walk down the street without counting the couples I passed; lunchtime alone became time to catch up on some reading; I even went to a wedding and found myself caught up in the love of the moment instead of listening to the voice in my head detailing the ways that death may these two part. The moment I realized that I sat through a wedding without the bitter taste of disappointment in my mouth, I knew that the gloom was finally lifting. Continue reading »

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