In Loving Memory...

 

To a dear friend and fellow blogger, you will be greatly missed.  

Cheryl and I met via the internet and this blog.  Through our on-line conversations and comments,  I had the pleasure and great honor of getting to know this beautiful person.  Even though we did not connect face to face, we connected through our words and mutual loss.  Through her words, one could sense a gentleness, a sense of awe, and a love of life.  She faced life with all its ups and downs with a courage and strength that amazed me, as I am sure it amazed others.  I feel a great loss as I will miss reading her words, drawing strength from her strength, and gaining much insight from her immense wisdom.  

God bless you and keep you, my you rest in peace. 

My prayers and thoughts are with you and your family on this saddest of days.  

Farewell dear friend.

'A person's a person no matter how small...'**

Grief is so very difficult, and grief that refuses to be recognized, is the hardest to deal and cope with.  The other day I noticed that one of my classmates was visibly upset.  I watched as she would occasionally get up and leave our class, always with tears brimming in her eyes.  Each time this occurred something would tug at my heart. 

Here was a young woman in pain, her grief so deep so profound.  Here was a mother who had lost not one but two children, in such a short time.  What was even more difficult for her was that she did not have an opportunity to hold these children, they were both miscarriages.  Yet her grief is as real as mine, and I believe, even more so.  

Too often those who have lost a child through miscarriages, stillbirths and in infancy are treated as if their grief should be non-existent or diminished in some way.  As a mom who has lost a child, I cannot even imagine not having had the opportunity to hold my child, let alone not being given the opportunity to meet them or getting to know them.  I have met too many moms who have not forgotten, who remember there due dates, and have named their child.  The love they have for their child is no different than mine.  Any woman, who has carried a child in pregnancy, knows the bond that begins long before their child makes their debut into this world.  

For most moms, we begin to talk to our unborn child; we begin to dream of what they may accomplish, what they can become, and what they will add to our lives.  This child is a part of us, and we a part of this child, we cherish every movement and kick; we look forward to sonograms, and doctors visits.  So much anticipation, so much fear and joy, and so much hope.  That unborn babe is life itself, we begin to nurture this precious life long before the delivery date.   
 
 Recently, there was some commotion about pictures taken of a families' stillborn child.  I can honestly say that it is the pictures of my daughter that I cherish most, and I fortunately have many years of photos.  For others this is not the case.  Yes, it may seem odd to so many of you, but for many of these parents, it is there one cherishable memento of their little angel.  My husband and his family have a picture of their little brother, Rui, who lost his battle with illness at the age of 10 months.  At a time when photos were rare, someone offered to take a photo of him at his funeral, the only photo his parents have of this child.  When photos come out, as they often do at family gatherings, this picture always brings wonderful memories of a life too short.  

 Grief is grief, whether we have so many precious years with our loved one, or profound memorable moments; love is love.  And for so many of us who are moms, the love of mother and child, is the strongest love of all.  It is unconditional, our hearts are poured out for the love of our children, and we cherish every nuance, every heart beat.  Whether you have had just hopes and dreams, hours or days, or have shared some memorable years; the spark of life, the fulfillment of dreams, the realization of love, is a loss that cannot be measured.  
 
 When we do not understand what is happening, or have not experienced a loss ourselves, we need to step back and realize that grief is very real in so many instances.  Loss needs to be acknowledged, we must be willing to accept that others will hurt, that pain is real, regardless of what we or society deems as an appropriate grievable loss.  Our role should be to LISTEN, to hold their hand, to simply say 'I'm sorry,' and to allow them to work through their grief in whatever way works best for them.  We are not 'cookie cutter' people; we are each and every one of us, unique.  And it is this very uniqueness that makes us all the more wonderful, all the more vulnerable to all life hands us, and that gives us the courage to get up and face each new day with a renewed sense of hope.  

Love crosses boundaries that no man or woman can or could ever understand.  Yet love is one emotion that can bring us so much joy and sorrow at the same time.  But to not know love, for me is a greater loss than any other I can even begin to fathom.  We hurt because we love, but we also begin to heal because we LOVE!
 
To all parents who have loved a precious child, who have held them in their arms, or simply in their heart; know that they now hold you dear, and that they continue to send you love, and you will always be their mom and dad.

Blessings! and until we meet again.

For a list of resources for grieving parents visit:  Honored Babies

**Title quote by Doctor Seuss (March 2, 1904 - September 24, 1991)

                                     From Horton Hears A Who!

That's not right! It's more like this!

All too often people cannot understand why someone is grieving so deeply or for so long.  After Rachel's death, I was home for a year, and I existed in a state of semi-hibernation.  My husband, on the other hand, went right back to work.  He runs and operates his own business as a tailor, and for the most part was alone a good part of his day.  I worked in the demanding cosmetic world prior to my daughter's death, so I knew I would be afforded very little quiet time, if any at all.  I also knew it would be difficult to deal with the demands of other people when I was lacking so much in me.  

My point is that people began to compare my husband and I, stating things like you both lost a child, your grief should be the same, and so on.  Word to the wise, it is not the same, ever.  Each and everyone of us experiences grief differently.  There are many factors that effect how we grieve a loved one.  The relationship is one that quickly comes to mind: were you very close, or was there some estrangement?  What did this person represent in your life, was this someone your relied on, trusted, shared all with?  Was this person someone who fully and truly accepted you as you are?  All these and so much more play a big part in your grieving.  The more you love the greater the pain.  So to say that two people who both share a similar loss should feel the exact same amount of pain or grief is so untrue and unfair to the griever.  Grief is unique to each individual, and only the individual who is grieving knows how they feel.

I have often heard people saying things like, 'I lost my spouse and look at me, I'm doing fine, why are they still moping about'.  Or 'I don't understand, didn't they both lose a parent, why is he or she still having a hard time with this, the other seems to have been able to get on with their life.'  I have been myself compared to other grieving mothers, and either was given negative or positive feedback.  'She went right back to work, why didn't you?'  'Oh she is not doing as well as you, you have a better grip on the situation, it must have been guilt.'  You name it, I've heard it and been compared to it.  

But like I said before, no two of us is alike, we have unique personalities, unique likes and interests, we are 'individuals' -'1. a single human being, as distinguished from a group. 3.a distinct, indivisible entity; a single thing, being, instance, or item.' (dictionary.com)  We think differently, we feel differently, we experience things differently.  I'm reminded of my childhood days when my friends and I would lie down on the grass, staring up into the sky, looking at the clouds drifting by, for the shapes that our imaginations would conjure up.  I remember even now, how we would each see different things, and then agree or disagree with the other.  

Grief is no different than looking up at those clouds, it is all a matter of perspective.  We all see, understand and deal with events and experiences in our lives from the angle we are coming from.  That is one of the main reasons why you will so often hear, that grief is a process, that it takes time, that one must do what is best for them.  Because no one really knows what you are going through, you are the only one who does.  Does it mean others don't understand, of course not.  The greatest help for me was talking to other mothers and parents who had lost a child.  Listening to what had helped them make it through, what had been very difficult for them, and what had helped them cherish the time they had with their child.  In those darkest days and even today, they are a source of comfort, wisdom and hope, letting me know that I too will make it.  

The message here, is to allow yourself to mourn, to grieve, and to give yourself the space you need.  People often mean well, but unless they have gone through what you are experiencing, they truly have no idea what you are going through.  Don't let anyone pressure you into feeling a certain way, or try to conform you to what they believe is the 'normal' grieving period or behavior.  And if you are trying to help someone who is grieving, let them know you care, you are willing to listen, and give them space.  Most often all we need is someone who is willing to just be there with us and for us.  And most importantly, don't compare yourself to others, and don't allow others to compare you with anyone else.

Blessings! and until we meet again.

Rachel

 


Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.  ~From the television show The Wonder Years

Twists and Turns

Photo by Rose Mary Saraiva

The road ahead may at time seem so clear.  However, as we travel along our chosen paths, we start to realize what seemed so certain, so straightforward is anything but.  We find obstacles, turns, detours, dips and rises, so much we weren't expecting.  Life is such a road.  

Looking back over the years, my life has taken so many turns, some pleasantly surprising, others leaving me longing to go back and choose an alternate route.  I'm reminded of my late teen years, at the age of 19, I was engaged, had finished school, was working and knew exactly which direction I was headed.  The world lay before me waiting to be conquered and explored.  

Today, as I have crested another mountain in my life, and I am slowly beginning to coast down the other side, the view though splendid, is not always clear.  As I look out at the scenery that is my life, I find myself wondering where this path will lead me, what lies ahead for me.  There is a certain amount of apprehension and fear, as I take another step into my life, into my future.  

It is often said that adversity shows one's true colors, draws upon strengths we did not know or realize we possessed, and opens our lives to unbelievable possibilities, if we are willing.  Through my grief, I am learning that I have a capacity to do so much more, help others, and to relish the loves in my life.  I have chosen, in reinventing myself, to learn all I can about grieving, the grieving process, and how it effects me as a person.  In my exploration, I have come to realize that each new day offers endless possibilities, and that I have the ability to make a difference if I so choose.  

This does not mean that I am personally not still hurting, it means I am allowing my self to grow, growing pains and all.  Grief is now a part of who I am, but its company is not so unwelcomed, I have learned so much from grief.  The poet Robert Browning says it best,  

I walked a mile with Pleasure;
She chattered all the way.
But left me none the wiser
For all she had to say.
I walked a mile with Sorrow
And ne'er a word said she;
But oh, the things
I learned from her
When Sorrow
walked with me!

Are you willing to take that walk with 'sorrow,' are you willing to let it help you become someone new?  We all have choices in life, we all stand at the start of each new road, and we all are given the freedom to decide which path we'll take.  I may not always choose the right path, but I will always choose to learn from it.  Rachel's death was not of my choosing, had I a say in it, the outcome would have been totally different.  But alas, death like life is inevitable, and I believe the reward after death is so much greater.  So I take each day as it comes, knowing that Rachel continues to teach me so much and is my constant companion; and that the love of a mother and daughter is all the fuel I need for the journey.  

Blessings! and until we meet again.

Quote by Antonio Talbert

Photo by Rose Mary Saraiva

It's A Boy!

It's a boy!  We have a new grandson, and all are doing fine.  

Amazingly enough, I did fine that day of his birth.  Like anyone awaiting the birth of a child, I was excited, nervous, and every other emotion you could think of as I awaited the news of his arrival.  When the time finally came and I was allowed in, there he was, a perfect little miracle.  I did not cry, I was just so happy to see that mom and baby were all doing well, and all had gone well. 

Of course there was a lot of bustle as there always is after the birth of a child, as nurses and doctors continually check on mom and baby.  The pediatrician came in at one point, examined the baby, and told the parents that he had 'stork bites' or 'angel kisses.'  These are red marks that go away in time and his were over both eyelids.  Immediately I heard angel kisses and thought to myself, Auntie Rachel sent him off with a kiss.  My daughter told me it was not only Rachel, but his late uncle Richard, on his dad's side which would explain the two marks.  

Rachel was very much a part of that day, and I was not the only one who sensed her presence.  I felt that she had more than likely met her new nephew way before we did.  Comforting, to say the least!  And even though it has been a busy few days, it has been wonderful in so many ways.  Life is amazing, and even though it refuses to play by the rules, it is wonderful just the same.  

Grief remains a constant part of my life, sometimes it remains silent and we go about our day, and at other times it can be intense, catching us off guard, it all depends on what is happening.  We find ourselves 'reinvesting in our life.'  Reinvesting, what do you mean reinvesting?  We begin to let go and allow the deceased go on with their new life, as we gradually find acceptance and move into our life without the deceased.  We allow ourselves to love others again, not to replace our loved one, but to share the love we are capable of giving.  

When we begin to reinvest in our lives, we find ourselves going back to work, or as was the case with me, new employment in a totally different line of work.  Others take on new hobbies, especially if they have lost a spouse, and there were certain activities they enjoyed together.  Still others, find that they now feel that they can share their experience with others, hoping to help them in their journey.  There are so many ways in which bereaved individuals can begin to reinvest in their lives, while still honoring the memory of their loved one.

As we begin the process of reinvesting, we find that memories are much less painful, and bring comfort and a smile.  We no longer worry about forgetting our loved one, but more so remembering the beauty, love and gift of their life.  Some set up a special place in memory of their deceased, for my husband and I, it is Rachel's memory garden and a special chest that holds mementos of the love, care and thoughts of others during our darkest days.  For others, it's a special area in their home, it can be whatever works best for you and your needs.  

It's not to say that this forward movement, does not sometime elicit pangs of guilt.  As we find ourselves becoming more fully immersed in life, we often feel guilt creeping in.  Even 5 years later, I still feel a sense of guilt, as if maybe my memories are slipping away, or I am forgetting.  This is okay, and we allow ourselves the feeling, but remind ourselves of that we will always have the memories, because of the love.  And as a mom, I have so, so many wonderful and beautiful memories of Rachel to last me a lifetime and then some.

Regardless of where we have been, we know that there is always forward motion, always change, always a newness awaiting discovery.  As we begin the new chapters in our lives, we learn to welcome them, to accept that another page has been turned, and that we are constantly writing and re-writing our lives.  We learn to live anew, we learn to love again, and we become stronger because of where we've been.

My life has taken turns that I least expected since Rachel's death.  I am working in a totally different field; I have gone back to school, and will be completing my certification this coming December.  With this certificate I will be able to act as a grief facilitator, helping ease others through their bereavement and grief journey.  I am able to comfort others who are grieving and somehow lighten their load, when possible, because I have now experienced a significant loss, and understand the pain.  I now have two beautiful grandchildren, proof that love blooms all around us, in both expected and unexpected places.  So much has happened, so much has changed.

My life is a constant whirl of motion, taking me in new directions, allowing me to grow, to become renewed each and every day.  We are asked to continually invest in ourselves, and occasionally to 'reinvest' in who we are becoming.  Grief is difficult, but when we allow ourselves the space, when we go through it, rather than circumvent it, we allow ourselves to be 'reborn.' And though we may come out kicking and screaming, we do come out, we do make it, we are fine, and we are given new chances to make life all the more worthwhile, for not only ourselves, but for those around us as well.  So that each and every day is a 'birth day,' a new beginning, and a chance to cash in on our investment.

Blessings! and until we meet again.