Armen and I have been talking about how people are sometimes judged for acknowledging an anniversary or other marker of a loved one’s death in a particular way. One woman I know took her daughter shopping on the one year marker of her other daughter’s death and experienced criticism from one friend who thought that was a peculiar way to spend the first anniversary. This is a really beautiful read about how grieving takes so many shapes and sizes, is such a multi-dimensional experience, and can be ultimately enlightening. Would love to know what others think…
What a moving article. Thank you.
Grief is the silent partner of death. It sears into the souls of those left behind, leaving its wrenching impact on the ever-changing reality of the survivors left behind. Grief is highly personal in its nature, and it is clearly evident that no set formula exists for experiencing this unique phenomenon A wide abundance of variables exist in the shadows of each death – our age and the age of the deceased during our respective life journeys, the unique circumstances of the death, the tenor of our relationship with him or her, the support system that acts as a compassionate buffer in its aftermath, our own progressive moments in the ever-evolving maturation process, periodic dialogues with others who shared his/her life, our personal experiences with previous deaths and separations, the relentless voice of society defining the acceptable parameters of the “normal” grief process. The cover of the book brilliantly conveys this variance of Griefland. And, yes, when we enter into this complex but colorful land, we are gradually compelled to speak a new language, sing a different melody, and shed our old selves as we embrace a new but similar facsimile. This promises to be a book about the wisdom and enlightenment that inevitably follows the searing pain of grief. What a gift to the world!
Oh, Marsha, I so love what you are saying about how unique this process is, and how it is often impacted by our experiences of other deaths or losses. It’s almost as if when a person we love dies, every single person we’ve lost dies all over again. Why is this? How does this happen? And why is it that we need to believe in any kind of “normal” anything? To feel less crazy? I don’t know if what I’m going through is normal or not, but I only know that I feel a tremendous responsibility to live, and to love, fully in Rachel’s place. It seems the best way to honor her. Yet the guilt never subsides. Never.
Thank you, Marsha, for your beautiful post. As Nancy and I navigate this grief condition – we learn the art of breathing all over again. In writing our book, we decided to share the experience word for word and out loud, giving ourselves (and others) permission to feel every layer of sorrow until finally, we are stark naked – wide awake. Grief splits you wide open but ultimately makes you more human. That seems to be one of many gifts left behind by our children for us to discover. Thank you for walking with us, for joining this conversation.
I love the article you referenced, Nancy. Working with many families who have faced the death of a loved one, it is so clear that there is no one or right way to grieve. Just as living is each person’s own path, so too is grieving. Allowing each person to find their own expression, their own path into and through grief is the gift we can give in support of anyone grieving.
Yet our culture is steeped in a kind of fear or avoidance of the subject, which then leads to assumptions about how and when and for how long we should grieve, Sharon. Something you said to me once was that we each have to find our way to honor someone’s grief. It really made an impact on how I view this whole journey. I loved that — we do need to honor grief for what it is, a powerful emotional response to losing love, to losing a relationship. And what is so surreal is that it feels as though I am still in relationship with Rachel, though there are no manuals telling me how to negotiate this new relationship.
My beautiful daughter, Emily died on August 6th, last year at 27 years old. The year has been a difficult, painful, yet amazing journey of love. As Nancy said, I too feel I am still in a relationship with my daughter. I “feel” her telling me my hair is “too poufy” or to “wear this, not that”, and telling me “Momma, don’t be so sad”. I feel her all around me, yet so far away. The waves of grief come less frequently, but can still be so strong – like the rip-tides we experienced together at the beach. In honor of my sweet girl, I move on through the grief; carrying her wherever I go with a kinder, gentler, more sensitive attitude toward those I meet ~ not so busy as to not take notice that every one has their own struggles, that I am not the only one in pain. Emily loved people, she had an amazing ability to make people feel so special, a legacy of love worth carrying on. I have found that there is no timeline, there are no patterns, there is no way to tell someone how to grieve. Grieving is all about our personal experiences, our faith, our support system, and our strength, all in our own time. Like one of Armen’s friends said “As soon as you throw in that first load of laundry, the world will think you are healed.” Sometimes I feel like people approach me with apprehension as though they think I will be too emotional or energy consuming. If I show emotion, they might think it’s not rational that I’m not “over it”. Those are usually the people who don’t know me and have not suffered loss of their own. But ~the women close to me, who have brought me love, compassion, tenderness, and yes joy over the past year are my precious life-line. I call them, the “Sisterhood of the Dragonfly”. These women are my friends, and my family. Most knew Em and share this deep loss. They continually lift me up and carry me over the rough spots, over the difficult milestones, and over that pit of grief so I don’t sink so low that I can never climb out. There are no words to express the gratitude and love I have for these precious sisters, many who have suffered loss of their own. My dearest friend and most amazing supporter threw me a life-line and held on tight the moment she heard. She lost her Mom 6 months after my Em passed and we have developed a bond of faith and love that can not be shaken, that is ever focussed on eternity knowing we will see our “girls” again. I have a tube of Emz lipstick that I wear frequently. When I go to Starbucks, I get Emz “Vente Americano” and when they ask for my name, I say “Emily”. When I shop with her name on my cup, I feel like she is shopping with me – the list goes on. People might think I’m a little crazy, but it makes me feel closer to my beautiful girl that I am missing so much. Through all the pain, I feel so blessed, so honored and so loved in this ~ the worst season of my life.
Oh, Dayna, my heart feels that same twist it felt when I got the news about Rachel’s death, in reading this beautiful testament to Emily today. She sounds like such an amazing young woman, touching so many people, so loving and caring. The image of you putting on her lipstick struck me as so powerful, beautiful. I put Rachel’s glasses on the other day, just to see if I could see through them. Believe it or not, her eyes were worse than mine (mine are pretty bad), but wearing them was so strange. I just can’t get my mind around the finality of this. It also sounds like you have a magical alliance of your own, and your sisters and soul mates are easing you through this horrific journey. But that is fantastic, isn’t it? Can you even imagine going through this all alone? You are an inspiration to me today, and I do want to hear more about this Sisterhood of the Dragonfly. Why the dragonfly? Tell me more!
No, Nancy, I can’t imagine taking this journey alone. But I have found I need balance between being alone and sharing. This is such a personal struggle. I still get that awful catch in my chest when the reality of never seeing her again hits me like a terrible thud. Or, when I look at her baby picture just above my computer screen. Her beautiful smile, her bright amber eyes it’s all too much. Then, I stuff the pain into a place where I can deal with it later. When the work is done, when my husband goes off to work and I can allow myself my melt down, then the tears come, then the total breakdown, the pain that knocks the wind out of me and I let it all out~ so I can get on with life once more. I know I can reach out at anytime to my “sisters”, but those melt-downs I have to get through on my own~ I have to feel the pain and I have to cry out alone. I don’t know if that’s making me stronger, or if it’s helping all that much, but I do feel better for a while. Does that make sense to you? Funny how we feel closer to our daughters by keeping and using their things. When I wear her clothes, her lipstick, her jewelry, I feel closer to her. The couple of days after Emily died, I was uploading pictures on a CD for the reception after her funeral. I was still in shock and quite numb. I wished she could help me… still didn’t believe she was gone. I was on auto pilot. If not for my sister, Jody I wouldn’t have been able to make it to the funeral. It was a comfortable August morning, the front door was open and the back door across the house was open. Out of the corner of my eye I saw something really big fly past me in my office and I heard a racket at the back door. Caught in the blinds was a huge iridescent blue and green dragonfly. I scooped it from behind the blinds and it flew out the door. My sister said “Dayn, Emily sent you a dragonfly”. Later that day, I met my ex, John at St. Anthony’s to make arrangements for Emz services and I told John. He broke down and cried. He said Em gave him a dragonfly rug and it is at the foot of his bed. When Em was about 10 she gave me a glass paper weight sitting here at my desk that has a dragonfly in it. Guess she was trying to say “Mom, I’m okay.” I live in the foothills and I never saw a dragonfly on my property before that day. Now, I see them all the time. My family and friends who know this story give me dragonfly jewelry, art, garden things; there are now dragonflies everywhere around me. They make me smile. The Sisterhood of the Dragonfly is my network of amazingly compassionate and loving women who have encouraged me to live on. Please tell me more about Rachel ~ and more about your journey, your survival skills.
Dayna, well isn’t this another coincidence. In the book, I describe a moment soon after Rachel died in which an irridescent red dragonfly adhered itself to my bathroom window. It was gigantic and I’d never seen one before. Rachel had red hair, and it was stuck there all day long, for hours. Also, she crocheted an afghan for me, using a special stitch, called the Dragon stitch, which I also mention in the book under the essay of the same title. This dragonfly symbolism seems to permeate my thoughts a lot of times. I know how the melt downs come and knock us to the ground, and sometimes it takes me hours to pull myself out of it. Hmmm…is it helping? I’m not sure, but one thing I know is that if I gunny sack it, I will end up in the psych ward. It has to come out, it has to. I don’t know if I’m surviving, really, Dayna. I am stil breathing, and writing is the only balm to stave off the sense of impending insanity at times. I have photos of her all over the house, in every room, and lots of them. Some people are bothered by this, probably, and my husband (her step dad) may think it’s overkill (although he’s never said this), but it makes me feel like she’s near me. Like I can look up and talk to her. She was my best friend, my cuddly girl. My bet name for her was Cubby, and she called me Mommy Bear. I have letters she wrote to me, but have found it unbearable to read them. I tried once and couldn’t finish. God, here we go, another day in front of us. What will it bring, Dayna?
Oh, my! Nancy, what an amazing coincidence. I haven’t read too far into the book yet, work is keeping me from focusing on it. The funniest thing that happened a few weeks after Em died was one morning, headed out the door to bible study, I looked at Emz picture in the entry and said, “Come to bible study with me this morning, Sweetheart”. (I talk to her pictures, maybe I’m nuts, but I don’t care.) We began our study in one room and funneled into the church for worship half way through the morning. There are 300-400 women from many different churches at our study on a weekly basis. My friend, Gina and I were standing in place ready to start singing and Gina elbowed me and motioned to look down. In the position directly in front of me was a pretty, petite woman wearing black silk pants with dragonflies embroidered in bright colors all over them… imagine that. “Em was telling me ~I am with you”. The day at St. Anthony’s when I told the story of the dragonfly to John, the woman making notes told us she had a story by a mother who’s daughter died and it is about a dragonfly. She said she had been saving it for 10 years or more but wanted us to have it. I will find it and bring it to you at your book signing this month. Emily is my “Emilz”, my “Sweet Cheeks”. She had skin like butter. She was smarter and more beautiful than I could ever be. I am not able to open her boxes she left behind and can not watch her videos, it is simply gut-wrenching. We moved in our house 8 months before Em died and I don’t have all her pictures up yet, but will in due time. Emily’s step dad, my husband I know has difficulty with my grieving. There is so much he doesn’t understand. Emz last words to me were, “See you Saturday, I love you mom, tell Marshall I love him too.” Dragonflys are playful beautiful, light, colorful creatures that ventured from an under water world to morph into their beauty and rise into God’s amazing creation above where they dart and play with one another and they remind us of our girls beauty, humor and light. As we hold on to our girls expressions of love, we can try to make it a “dragonfly day”.
P.S. Nancy, I can’t wait to meet you and hear more about your Rachel and the dragonflies. I’m opening your book to chapter 86 right now and will read it before I begin the book today where I left off a couple of days ago. Thank you for sharing with me and for this wonderful book.
Oh, Dayna, these dragonfly stories are really boosting me today. I’ve really been teetering the last week or so, and woke up this morning to a body covered in hives. This is one of the side effects we talk about in the book but it hadn’t happened to me yet, only to Armen. They are even on my face. Ugh. But so looking forward to hearing your response after reading the entire book. Please let me know! Love, Nancy
Nancy, Hives- yikes. I have been struggling with my health since 09, a long boring story… but my immune system has really taken a hit. I have been ill more over the past 1 year and 3 months than I have been healthy. I did have hives in the first months. Those nerves seem to sprout, burn, and itch from deep within. I pray God will soothe your hives, give you comfort and bless you with the peace beyond all understanding for healing from your rash. I love the book. On October 17th, my friend, Laura and I are going to come to your book signing, so I can meet you. Laura gave me your book and I want to get it signed, but more importantly, I am wanting so much to visit if only for a minute. I have a dragonfly for you… Love, Dayna
Dear Dayna,
First, Dayna, I’m so sorry I wasn’t at the book signing but now that I’ve moved to Washington, Armen is doing most of the promotional and book signing events on her own. I’m always with her and you, and all the members of the cemetery club, in spirit. Thank you for your kind words about the hives, which seem to be going away, thank God. Isn’t it so strange how our immune systems get so compromised when we make this journey to Griefland? It’s a common occurrence, although I don’t know many people who talk about this. Armen and I have both experienced strange bruising, hives, blurry vision, nausea, broken blood vessels, especially in the eyes, the list goes on and on. Dayna, keep writing to me, and if you are ever up north in the Portland/Seattle area, email me and let me know. You can visit with us here and we can have some quiet alone time. Would so love to meet you! Love you, and holding you in my thoughts, today!
Love,
Nancy
Today is the anniversary of my sons death 25 years ago. October is a sad emotional month for me having also lost my mom and dad in october too. Losing my son Ian is by far the most difficult. Today I am not rendered totally incapable of living, today does not feel as tho I’ve been sucker punched and cannot breathe but, yes I still grieve and cry and rememeber him and do something to acknowledge him on this sad day.thank you for this blog to share Ivana
So you are much further down the road in Griefland, Ivana, being 25 years out. I know a woman who lost her son about as long ago who I saw recently. I asked her if it ever gets any easier and she answered, “no,” but the days are easier to move through now for her. How does this experience feel from the vantage point of time? Being in the sucker-punched phase, I can’t see outside that for now, but I have often fantasized about how this will feel 25 years from now. Can you tell me more about Ian? What happened to him? How have you coped all these years? Please feel free to come here and share whenever the spirit moves you to. We all need to hear from one another and you never know how much your words might be helping someone else.
Like me. (smile)