What is faith?

What is faith?  What keeps us going?  How is it we keep falling yet get up time and time again?  What makes us tick?  Life holds so many questions, so many wonders, and yet we persevere, we move onward. 

All too often we are faced with events and such in our lives that leave us unsure.  We are left feeling unsure of who we are, who are neighbors are, what this world is coming to, and so much more.  Yet with all that happens around us, we still hold on.  

For myself, in all I have faced in life, I know my faith has been the rock I cling to.  It has been this faith that keeps me moving forward, keeps me grounded and helps me get up each time I fall.  When Rachel died, it was the most important thing in my life, my faith, I knew that if I held on tight, I would be okay.  I knew God accepted me with all my brokenness, with all my failings, and especially with all my doubts and questions.  It may seem funny to some, but it was and still is an unbelievable comfort to me.  

I look around me at so many people I have had the pleasure to meet.  Some have been in my life a long time, others just mere acquaintances, but all have left their mark on me.  In my previous employment I had the privilege of traveling quite frequently and I was able to not only experience a lot, but meet so many new people.  I guess I have one of those faces, I tend to smile a lot, so I must appear approachable to many people, so because of this 'gift' I have been privy to many interesting life stories and met many beautiful people. Oh, I have met the other sort as well, those that have you ducking for cover, but fortunately, those have been few and far between. 

These sojourns in my life has thought me so much about human nature, what make some of us who we are.  I am no expert and do not even think myself capable of being one, I have just experienced some aspects of it, and I have seen the good, the bad and the indifferent.  

So what does all this have to do with life, faith and getting through tough times?  Our human nature says a lot about our character, how we cope and what helps us get up each morning.  I learned many life lessons, just from listening to others.  I remember on one of my flights, meeting a young woman who is an author, she had just completed her latest book and was going back to England to begin research on her next book.  She was a fascinating young woman, who lived off the kindness of others, while trying to get the data she needed for her writings.  She had learned to read others, and in doing so, find people who could help her.  We kept in touch for a while, and when she came back to the States I met her and helped her get to her next destination.  Two strangers who somehow developed a trust, who believed in the decency of humanity.  She took a leap of faith, trusting me, but so did I.  

There were times when I would find myself, sitting next to someone either at the airport or on the plane, who would be just plain scared.  I would see these people searching and seeking out other travelers, who like myself, appeared more seasoned, non-plussed by the prospect of getting on yet another flight.  

When my daughter died, I realized that I was one of those travelers, looking for the face of someone who seemed calm, who appeared to know what they were doing, who had experienced this before, and understood it some how.  My life had taught me to seek out others, to find my way through this maze called life by asking for help, by trusting and allowing faith to lead me.  

We all at some point in our lives find ourselves adrift in a sea of confusion, unsure which way to go, where to turn.  Like so many travelers, we must seek help along the way, we must allow ourselves to trust, to seek out the help of others, and to allow faith to guide us.  I had my faith, my religious beliefs that guided me, that keep me going, that let me hold on to the belief that I will meet my daughter again.  Allow your faith to guide you, what ever your religious or non-religious beliefs might be.  

I have many dear friends who have different religious views and beliefs, but we all share one thing in common, we know that we all gain by helping each other, by leaning on each other, and by allowing ourselves to trust.  Throughout my life, and more especially, in the last four years, I have truly been grateful and blessed to have so many wonderful people in my life, who accepted me for me, not for what I believe in, what I do for a living, or how much money I have or don't have, but for me, the human, the person with a heart beat and a pulse.  

If you are struggling with grief, loss, illness, or just trying to understand why things happen, look to your faith, look to others, do not be afraid to reach out to others who may have already traveled the road you are on.  Life is full of lessons, and full of people who have already learned these lessons, so like a child who is eager to learn, let us to be eager to find our way through life's difficult lessons, by turning to those who have been there.  

The following poem sums it all up:

Faith

Faith begins by believing
in your heart that what is right

 

Faith is knowing in your heart
that good can overcome evil,
that the sun can shine
in a rainstorm.

 

Faith is peaceful
and comforting, because it
comes from within
where no one can invade
your private dreams.

 

Faith is not something
you can demand or command;
it is a result of  commitment to belief.

 

Faith is believing in something
you can't see or hear,
something deep inside
that only you understand
and control.

 

Faith is trusting in yourself
enough to know that no matter
how things turn out,
you will make
the best of them.

 

by Beth Fagan Quinn

The definition of Faith is the confident belief or trust in the truth or trustworthiness of a person, idea, or thing. The word faith can refer to a religion itself or to religion in general.    (from Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia)

Blessings! and until we meet again

Facing the past.

How can I go back there?  I don't know if it will help?  Will it even be worth my while?  I don't want to hear about someone else's pain!

Rachel was an organ donor and a year after her death my family and I were invited to attend a gathering celebrating the gift of life.  Photos of those who had died would be shown, a brief story of their lives, and how so many people are blessed because of this selfless gift.  

At first my husband was not sure if he wanted to go, I did, but with some apprehension.  We decided to attend, sent in our response card, photos and any other information they required.  We drove to the location and upon arrival were amazed at the number of people in attendance.  There were donor families and well as recipients and their families.  We met many who like us, had decided to donate their loved one's organs and tissue (a decision Rachel had made when she renewed her license).  We also met those whose lives were improved as a result of our saying yes.  

We cried, we laughed, we felt a bond that could not be explained.  So many like us had lost a loved one, had had to say good bye to someone, we shared grief.  For those who had received the gift of life, they could not say enough to thank us.  When all was said and done we were very glad we had decided to attend.  

More recently, I was asked to speak to medical professionals at the hospital where Rachel had been taken to, cared for and later died from her injuries.  I was excited about sharing her story, but I had not been back to that hospital since her death.  I said yes, but as the day approached I wondered if I had done the right thing.  I drove to the hospital, it is quite some distance from our home town, so it gave me time to think, wonder how I'd feel, would I be okay, and go over what I would be saying.  As I neared the hospital and drove past the site were the accident had taken place, a fear gripped me, leaving me suddenly tense.  I arrived, took a deep breath and walked in, met the contact person, and did my thing.  When I finished my presentation, answered any questions, I was asked if I would like to go up to the unit that Rachel had been in.  I had made it this far, sure I'd love to.  I was amazed that 3 1/2 years later, some of the staff still remembered my daughter and me, and the last thing I expected was to have people anxious to meet me, waiting to meet me. 

At the end of the day, I had made it, reached another milestone in this journey called grief, and felt relief.  I was glad I had said yes, I had a chance once again to share Rachel's story and to realize that she had made a mark on total strangers.

Today I was speaking to someone who less than a year ago lost her husband, she said she has her moments and sometimes feels as if she is waiting for something.  She also told me that she had been invited to attend a function at the hospital where her husband had been a patient.  She was not sure is she wanted to attend.  I shared this same story with her and explained how it had truly helped me in the healing, but like anything else, only she knew how she felt.  

All too often we are afraid to return to the accident scene, to the hospital that our loved one spent days, weeks, maybe even months in treatments and such, or to any place that held a special significance to our loved one.  We are afraid that those memories will be too much, too painful, and we are scared. What if we can't handle it, what if we break down,  so many questions.  But only when you give it try, will you know how you will cope.  Give yourself time, do what is best for you, only you can know when you feel alright with anything. 

But keep in mind, if you get the chance, let yourself go back to the places that hold those strong memories, and allow yourself to find release, to free yourself of those ghosts.  Allow yourself to live.

Celebrate their lives, celebrate their gifts to you and others, celebrate everything they meant and still mean to you.  Love overcomes all, love is the foundation that keeps us grounded when the storms come.  Love is their gift to you.

Blessings! and until we meet again.

Beautiful Poem

Someone shared this beautiful poem and felt it needed to be passed on to others. It also helps to know that we can look at death not as an enemy, but as just another part of the journey until we meet again.

Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away to the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other,
That, we still are.

Call me by my old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way
which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me. Pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect.
Without the trace of a shadow on it.

Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same that it ever was.
There is absolute unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?

I am but waiting for you.
For an interval.
Somewhere. Very near.
Just around the corner.

All is well.

--Canon Henry Scott Holland (1847-1918), from a sermon preached 15 May 1910, Saint Paul's, London.

Get me off this roller coaster!!!

Life is funny, one day we feel as if we are 'king of the hill' and then others, we don't know where we are or who we are.  Those are the days that we coast along.

Roller coasters, that's what life reminds me of so often.  There is the anticipation as we set off, then an exhilaration as we realize we are about to reach the top, the fear that strikes us as we crest the top, and the excitement as we start dropping, and then the release and sometimes disappointment that it is over.  For some this is too much and they get off the ride vowing never to return.  For others, they are right back in line, anxious to do it over and over again.  

If you take a look at your life, you can definitely see this played out in many areas of your life.  There are so many things we enjoy and do not hesitate to participate in them again, and still others leave us hurt and afraid.  The last four years have been a never ending roller coaster ride for me and my family.  We have definitely had our ups and downs, faced uncertainty as we sped around some unknown corner, never quite knowing what lay ahead.

Grief is without a doubt a harrying ride, we have our days that we are so far down that we cannot see anyone way out of our situation.  Then there are those days where just maybe I can make it over that next mountain, God give me the strength to just make it.  I remember the fear and anticipation, not knowing what the next day would bring, but hoping that somehow it would be better.  

Of course there were the days in which disappointment was all I could feel, disappointment in me for not being able to do something, for not having the strength to do anything, not even being sure of who I was, Who am I? became a daily question for me.  Those days left me feeling so drained so totally spent.  There was disappointment in others, what I sometimes in my grief perceived as not caring, as if those around me had somehow removed themselves from this entire situation.  It was crazy, (and trust me at times you truly feel as if you are crazy) I knew deep down that they cared, by my disappointment was to raw, to blinding.  I could give you a list too long for this blog of what I felt were disappointments.  If you are going through grief, you know exactly what I am referring to.  For those of you who know someone who is suffering right now, please do not take anything personal, it is not you that they are upset or disappointed with, it is the situation.  A situation that they are unable to control, unable to change, that is making them feel this way.

We all at some point in our lives have to face things and events that leave us feeling lost, confused, hurt, alone and sometimes even abandoned.  Our life experiences are what we draw on, how we somehow find ways of coping and dealing.  Like the roller coaster ride, you do not know how you are going to feel, or if it will be fun or not, unless you take that first step, and get on the ride.  Believe me there are so many days which I wish I could just get off this ride, just scream out enough, I've had enough.  But then I realize I am grateful, for what I have experienced, for what I have learned, and for who I have become.  

Without my life experiences, I would not be the person I have become.  Like the clay in the potters hand, these are the things that have molded me and shaped me, that keep molding and shaping me, creating a masterpiece, that takes years to complete.  But like any unique piece of art, there are the imperfections, and these give us character, these help make us stand out, they makes us who we are.  

So take the ride called life, live it, experience it and most importantly, share it.  Let each drop take you to new heights, allowing yourself to feel along the way, to be aware that you are being shaped, that you are becoming a very unique masterpiece.  Live with the knowledge that you loved, and that this love you would not have missed out on for the world.  A love that leaves you feeling so much, but that when all is said and done, it is this love that gives you release, allowing you to live again, more fully than before.

It is a love that endures, helping us make it through the roller coaster ride that is life.

Blessings! and until we meet again.

I'm not ready, please have patience!

Patience is a virtue.  We have all heard this saying so many times.  We are often reminded and thanked for being patient when we have to wait in line.  When your child is learning to walk, to talk and to accomplish simple tasks, we wait patiently for all the firsts.  Yet how often do we allow ourselves to be patient with us.

Right after Rachel died, the last thing I wanted to hear was be patient, or have patience.  I wanted to scream when yet another person uttered those words.  I even told a friend that if patience would bring back my daughter, I would be the epitome of patience. 

But it is patience that we actually need. Not the patience necessarily to accept what happened, that will come in time.  But to be patient with ourselves.  Grieving is not an easy or quick process, it just doesn't turn on one day and turn off when we feel we are done.  That's not how it works. 

We have to give ourselves time, after all we had our loved one in our lives all this time, we patiently earned their love and in doing so gained so much.  So now we need to give ourselves the very gift we gave to our loved one.  

It takes time and energy to grieve, and there are no set time limits or time frames.  Grief is as unique as we are, and every single person goes through their own grief in their own way.  People try to understand grief, they may sympathize with us, maybe even let us cry on their shoulder, but unless you have experienced it, it is hard to explain let alone understand.  

Those of us who may be grieving often times feel pressured to get through it and over it quickly.  As I mentioned in an earlier posting, I was home for a year after Rachel's death, my husband on the other hand, went right back to work.  I knew there was no way I could function in the day to day routine of a job.  There were days where I was tired even before I got out of bed.  My husband on the other hand needed to keep busy.  Because my husband and I were at complete opposite ends of the spectrum, people tried to reason away that I should have been where my husband was at.  

Both my husband and I had suffered loss before, having both lost our fathers, but neither of us was ready for this type of grief.  This was a whole new ball game, and we were so out in left field.  Nothing seemed right, nothing made sense, we did not know where to even go, let alone begin.  It was a confusing time, and a time that definitely called for patience.  Patience with our emotions, feelings and pain, patience with each other and how we were coping, and patience with others around us, and most importantly, with ourselves.  

The most important thing that my husband and I learned was that unless someone had gone through what we were going through, we would listened to them, but took any advice they shared with us with a grain of salt. A few months after Rachel's death, my husband looked perplexed, he explained that someone had said they were confused, this individual could not understand why I was still home.  They reasoned that my husband and I had both lost a child and that our pain should be the same, after all wasn't a father's pain, the same as a mother's.  You were both Rachel's parents, therefore you should both be moving forward at the same pace.  I remember being quite upset (maybe angry is a better word), not only at my husband, but at this person for assuming anything, let alone judging me and my husband's pain, or measuring our reactions.  

Most books you read on grieving will tell you that is takes at least 3-5 years before we begin to recover from grief.  Most of the people I have spoken to who have lost a dear loved one, will tell you it took at least 3 years before that could truly say it didn't hurt as much.  In the booklet, 'How to Comfort the Grieving,' by Victor M. Parachin, the author enters a excerpt of a mother's diary in which she writes:

       'One night, about a thousand sunsets after Laurie's death, 

        I put my hands on my heart.  I'm surprised it's not raw and 

        bleeding anymore.  There is just a big scar.  I move my arms

        and legs and they don't feel like lead weights anymore...Now 

        I have a scar.  The bleeding is gone but not all the tears.'

The pain has begun to slowly subside, but it has taken a while.  It can take a lot longer than people expect, there are no set rules, no time table, no schedule to follow.  We need to give ourselves time, we need to be patient with ourselves, we need to understand that this is totally foreign to anything we know or experienced.  It will start to get better, we will start to live again, but we need to trust ourselves.  I returned to work exactly a year and a day after Rachel's death, not to my previous job, but to something entirely new and different.  It was on my time, it was when I felt ready to do so. 

For those of you who maybe helping someone who is grieving, don't try to give them deadlines, they can't and won't be met.  This will only cause frustration in not only the bereaved, but you as well.  It may be hard to just stand by and watch, but it is what they need most.

For you, who are grieving, give yourself and others the gift of patience, allowing yourself to go through the stages of grief, at your own pace on your own time.  Your patience will be rewarded, you will live, laugh and love and will learn to dance again, (even if you have never danced before).  You will go beyond the grief, to the beautiful memories, and that is something no one can take away from you.  

"Love never ends." 

Blessings! and until we meet again.

You are cordially invited....

I wonder what they are doing, do you think they would want company?  I wonder if she would like to go see a movie?  All too often after the death of someone we love, the calls stop coming, visitors start to trickle down to almost none, and all of a sudden we are left alone.  

When Rachel died I had been warned that after a while the calls and visits would stop, even the cards would stop coming.  At first I welcomed this reprieve from answering the phone or trying to be sociable during a visit.  But after a while, you start to feel lonely, not that I was alone at home, there was my husband, my daughter and my son, but you go from so much to so little, so fast.  

After a while we did begin to get invitations, they were always asked haltingly, but at least they were asked.  My children and I were invited to go apple picking, with some family and friends.  It was a welcome change, and it was okay, everyone else around me were total strangers, and I was comfortable with this.  My husband and I were invited to some social events, at first we kept saying no, but my aunt and uncle insisted, we went and it actually was nice.  Each time we accepted, it helped us realize that we could start going out, that it gave us an outlet, a chance to change the scenery if you will.

If you know someone who is grieving, it is okay to invite them to attend events, go out for a ride, see a movie, or any other activities.  They may say no, and that is okay, but keep asking, they will say yes when they feel ready.  It also lets them know that you care and that they are still someone you want to be with.  Keep in mind that certain events and activities may cause pain, and evoke sad memories.  

Shortly after Rachel's death I had received an invitation for a bridal shower, at first I thought I might have the strength to go, but as it neared I found I couldn't.  My fear was that there would be to many familiar faces, to many strong reminders of what was missing in my life, so I declined the invitation, just days before the event.  Luckily for me they understood. 

What happens all too often after someone has lost a loved one, is that people don't know what to say or do, so they stay away.  A widow or widower may find that his/her circle of friends no longer calls.  For those who are still married and both are living, this individual is a reminder of what could happen to them.  For someone like myself, who lost a child, other parents may not want to deal with the reality of how fleeting our lives can be.  Each tragedy or loss, serves as a reminder to others of what is inevitable, and they feel if they detach themselves from the grieving individuals, they do not have to face this harsh reality.  

So for those of you who have suffered the loss of a loved one, bear in mind that your friends and maybe even your family, are not avoiding you, but the situation.  They do not want the reminder that this can also happen to them.  For some, it is also your grief that can make them uncomfortable, they do not know what to do when you express your emotions, or what to say when you mention your loved one's name.  

But for those family and friends that do still call, who come to visit and who extend invitations, allow them to do so.  They truly want what is best for you, and care for you.  So say no, say yes, but say something.  Be patient with each other, give everyone in your life space and allow each individual to gradually begin to start, even if it only baby steps, living again. 

You will start going out again, you will laugh, you will smile, and eventually you will dance again.  You will remember, and at first it may be painful.  That first laugh may cause tears, your smile may evoke some sadness, but the pain and guilt will eventually subside, and you will find yourself dancing, enjoying simple pleasures at first.  You will notice the sunrises and sunsets, the rainbows and fluffy clouds.  The birds will sound bright and cheery again, and you will enjoy the warmth of the sun.  

So accept an invitation once in a while, go out with a friend or family member; maybe a walk, a nice dinner, or a movie.  I especially loved the movies, because if I felt like crying, 1. I could blame it on the movie and 2. it was dark in the theater so no one could see, it was perfect.  For those of you who know someone who is grieving, please extend them an invitation, ask them until they say yes (no nagging of course), but just ask once in a while, they will say yes when they are ready.  Keep in mind that weekends can be tough, so this is a great time to invite them to dinner, to go bowling, or anything that you know they might enjoy. 

Above all be patient, this is a difficult time for everyone, but keep in touch, it is very important for the bereaved to know that people still care, that people still want to spend time with them.  You or someone you know will learn to live again.  Love will be your guide, and it is the love that you shared that will definitely sustain you.  They are always with you even though you cannot see them.  They are always in our hearts. 

Blessings! and until we meet again.

Life's Changing Seasons

The trees are beginning to change colors, the reds, golds, and yellows, fall has arrived.  Today as I drove along the interstate, I marveled at the array of colors, some deeper, others much more subtle.  Along with these were the dull browns, grays and occasional dead tree, as nature prepares for the long sleep of winter.  

I love this time of year, the warm days, crisp, cool evenings and the wonderful smells and tastes of the season.  If however you suffer from allergies, as I do, you also dread it.  I am fighting a terrible cold along with my allergy symptoms, and the winter and flu season has not yet begun. 

Like the trees, my body is reacting to the changing season, but instead of donning the bright hues, I feel more like the dull browns and grays.  This past month of September was difficult for me, it seems as if I had gotten in to a funk and couldn't get out of it.  I felt tired, run down and got things done but with little enthusiasm.  I was feeling depressed, I realized, four years have gone by since Rachel's death and it is as if all of a sudden reality is hitting me again.  I have been told that the fourth year can be a difficult one, and I wanted to shrug it off, thinking how can that be true, shouldn't it be getting easier.  It's been four years.  

But in truth, I have had a hard time, I don't necessarily feel like crying all the time, but there is a heaviness I just can't seem to shake.  So yes we do backslide, we do sometimes feel as if nothing is real, we find ourselves in a state of flux, not sure what to do next.  I know my current cold is due to the fact that I haven't been getting enough rest, and my body is telling me to slow down.  

I have read that sometimes we need to move back a few steps in order to get farther ahead.  I know that this is just a hiccup in my life, and that it is very normal.   Events, seasons, and people can trigger memories and emotions.  It has been an eventful year for our family, we have had a new grandson, I have taken on new responsibilities at work, my son is trying to get his license, my niece got married and I am back in school.  Looking at all that has happened and is happening, I realized how much of it can not be shared with Rachel.  

My grandson will know of his auntie because we will share her story, but there will not be the physical knowing.  At work, one of my responsibilities will be helping others in our area with grief, using my own experience to help others through theirs, something I could not have done well prior to Rachel's death.  I want my son to get his license, but a part of me is afraid, their is a fear that comes with loss, but I also know I have to trust.  My niece's wedding served as a reminder that I would not see Rachel walk down the aisle.  Going back to school at any age is daunting to say the least.  All these things may seem trivial, but when lumped together, can seem so burdensome.  

When we are grieving, these normal changes in our lives, seem to take on a life of their own, we tend to look at these events and occurrences with different lenses.  Life's joys such as births and weddings, seem to have a dark cloud lurking near by.  We may be able to hide these feelings and emotions from the rest of the world, but in the quite hours, when no one is looking, we allow ourselves to feel.  The pain and hurt that no one else sees, comes bubbling to the surface.  Our fears also pop up once in a while and we can only hope that we are keeping them in check, that we are not projecting them onto our family and friends.  

It is all this and more that seems to have caught up to me all of a sudden, as the month of September came into view, and I am once again reminded of how little time I truly had with Rachel.  I ran into a friend the other day who was having a difficult week, it had been the anniversary of her brother's death and even though it has been about 6 years now, her and her family still feel the pain, still have a hard time.  

Someone I worked with a few years ago, told me when Rachel died, that his mother-in-law had lost two sons, and that even now 25 plus years later, she still has a difficult time when it comes to the anniversary of their deaths.  I had noticed it before in people around me, but only living through it myself, have I come to fully understand why certain dates and events triggers a heavy sadness, that time cannot seem to erase.  

Know that all this is normal, that events and dates may trigger memories, some welcome and others depressing.  After all we are human, we feel, we care, and most importantly, we love, so any loss in our lives will have an impact on us.   So whether it has been a year or twenty, it is okay to feel sadness, to feel a sense of loss and emptiness, to feel a longing and to find yourself in a funk.  We have had to say good bye to someone and the void they leave behind in our lives is often so difficult to fill.  

So remember:  'We are often troubled, but not crushed; sometimes in doubt, but never in despair; there are many enemies, but we are never without a friend; and though badly hurt at times, we are not destroyed.' (2 Corinthians 4:8-9)

And like the changing seasons, we bend and adapt, and we prepare ourselves for whatever may lie ahead.  Living through the dark winters, to be renewed again when spring arrives.  

Blessings! and until we meet again.