All Around Us

Ever notice how you see things in multiples? You think about buying a red car, and you see red cars everywhere. You fall in love with a lab puppy, and you see lab puppies all over. It is about heightened awareness.  For someone who has lost a loved one to suicide, you become uber aware of others losses to suicide.  

I read somewhere this week that at least 6 peoples lives are completely changed from the loss of someone to suicide. Irrevocably changed, at least 6, sometimes more.  It's not something you get over, at best it's something you get through. Each day it's a different challenge. Some days you hold on by the thinnest thread, some days you step forward, sometimes you step back, some days you merely huddle until you can move again.

Thus far, I find the isolation so difficult. No one speaks of Gordon, or the choice that took his life. No one speaks of the good memories, although I hope sometime they will. It is like a whole section of life vanished as if it never existed. I myself struggle with talking about it so I take responsibility as well.

It's not something that happens only to some people, it is all around us. Like those red cars and lab puppies, but infinitely painful. I am being led by faith down this road. I will write about it, and as this type of loss is all around us, I hope to ease another's pain by owning and sharing the journey.  

Broken Open

Ever notice how when someone asks if you need anything, if you need help, that our first instinct is to say no.  At least, I'm this way. It's okay, I've got it. No, I don't need anything. I'll often go without, or do it myself later, and let the offer go. Not that I didn't appreciate the offer, I just have trouble accepting the offer. And yet, I love when I can help someone else. Why can't I love when someone wants to help me? Sometimes I'll go back and say, on second thought, I could really use this, or that. Thank God for second thoughts and second chances.

I read a fabulous line a a book recently. It said "You can be broken or broken open. That choice is yours." God bless Erica Bauermeister for that wisdom.  Last I checked all of us get broken at some point in our lives.  But it's the broken open part that provides the grace. 

It involves two parts. First we have to acknowledge the broken, and then we have to embrace being open. 

Think of a time someone said, let me know if I can ever help. That's a tough favor to call in if it's been forever ago. Even if it was yesterday, or last week or months ago. When we are really broken it's hard to be open.  We hide behind the broken, because it's discomfort is at least familiar.  Ahhh, to warm up to being broken open. To acknowledge growth need not be self isolating. Growth involves nurturing from our selves and others.  

Others nurture by virtue of helping. Which in turn heals the broken. Which are you right now? Are you in a broken season, or are you embracing being broken open? Or are you willing to help the broken? Twice recently I initially said no. One to a long standing offer for help, and one a recent offer for help.  Twice I've chosen to break open and say yes, be there for me.  

If we have to be broken, be broken open. I wish that for me, and for you. I wish that for all of us. 

Use Your Words

I've been pondering, struggling, wondering. And it all spins around words. I've never been very good about using my words.  Sure I can hold conversations, mostly say the right things. I've got words in blogs, I've a whole vocabulary of words in the shape of prayers.  But saying how I really feel, what I will and won't tolerate, that's a whole different thing.  That, my friends is my goal.  To push past the old ways and to build new ways.

I've been thinking about where I am in life, the grief of losing a loved one to suicide. People are not comfortable talking about that. Before this, neither was I.  We hit the safe topics, the easy conversations, but the one thing that has impacted every piece of my world is pushed away because it's scary, it's awkward, it's messy. 

I accept the scary, the awkward, the messy. I accept that I am not, and will not ever be the same.  The isolation sucks, the never ending questions in your mind are exhausting. It's bizarre to feel both completely invisible and totally visible all at the same time. I also get that I may not want to share everything with everyone.  That's never a good thing. 

But, and there is always a but, we need words, we need them for healing, for humor, to feel connected.  It's okay to reach out to me and to others, to talk about the losses we feel.  It's better to say I don't know what to say, than to say nothing at all. Start with a 'remember when' story, or a shared memory.  My challenge is to use my words to reach out when I need to, because, we all need to be heard. I am not the same, but as I discover the new me, and as you do the same in your life walk, let's use our words.

Tis The Season

Tis the season.  The Christmas season, the season of anticipation, of joy, of hope.  Perhaps that is the most important gift of all. Hope. Where would we be without it?

In all honesty, life threw some huge hardships to our family this year. You just never know when life as you know it will be altered.  So I will admit to struggling a bit with the season and all it holds.  I'll own struggling with life on a day-to-day basis. Each day is hard, but not all of every day is hard. Most days I cry at least once, and if I miss a day, I catch up in spades the next day. But, we know I'm a weepy woman during the best of times, so no surprise here.  I laugh some, I cry some. That's just me.

I've put up a "tree" of sorts, and try to sing the songs of the season. Face it, I didn't miss my calling in the music industry. I have lost some of the spirit of the season, but I embrace the hope of the season. I watch and see the joy others have, and know that someday it will be mine again.  So I am grateful for those full of joy, you guide my heart. 

I don't know where you are in life, but I hope it is a place of comfort and joy. You know, tidings of comfort and joy. I pray we see the magic of the season, and that our pockets are full of light and love, rather than lumps of coal.  You see, we have a choice, in all the seasons of our lives. We have a choice. I choose faith, I choose joy, I choose hope. And that gets me through each day. It gives me exactly what I need when I need it. I wish you the very same.

Giving

There is Thanks and there is Giving, but there can't be one without the other. So on this Thanksgiving I have some thoughts to share. Hopefully it will be gravy for your potatoes, or whip cream for your pie. At the very least may you find something savory in it.

In all honesty when my kids suggested they cook dinner this year I had a melt down. I love that they offered, even more, I love that they understood my deep need for a sense of ritual. Basically a need to cook a bird in my own home. A need for normalcy, for tradition. It's been a year of loses, hardships for all of us and grief. After all that you'd think it wouldn't matter who cooked the bird.  But it does.

We need to give of ourselves more than we need to get for our self. It's the giving in Thanksgiving.  I'm learning that the hardships in life soften us in ways one never expects. I'd liked to have skipped that lesson, but then I wouldn't have had to grow.

This is what I wish today and always. May your path be smooth. May your heart be light, may your dinner include dessert. May you understand the need to give, and the grace of receiving. May you feel the love, in spite of the tears. May you take time to rest and to heal. Know you are not alone, and cook when you need to. It helps. 

What I Know

What I know about grief, or life, or love, or even faith....is that it knows no timetable.  It's complicated. Some days it just hits you. It brings new meaning to you. It brings tears. Sometimes it brings relief.

I think about life in segments, before marriage, before kids, before divorce, after remarriage, after Gordon. I think, therefore I am. I say this because it's true, but also to prove I was listening one day (not everyday) in college philosophy.  Let's take that further. I laugh, therefore I am. I learn, therefore I am. I cry, therefore I am. I believe, therefore I am. The important part is I am. 

I am. While I am relearning who I am, I believe I will be more than what I was before. I'll still be a crazy dog lady, I'll still be a hugger, and have the burning desire to feed anyone who enters my home. I'll still have one eye on Pinterest and the other on Facebook, and the two eyes behind my head on my kids. Well, maybe. They are adults now and don't need me that way. I'll feel deeper, and perhaps weep easier. If that's possible. My faith will be more sound.

I know I am responsible for my choices, my attitude, my faith. If I'm lacking something I have the inner strength to find it. If I lack strength, I have the power of prayer.

What I know is there are gifts to be found in every life situation. Yes, even in sorrow. Open those gifts, embrace them, gather your faith and grow.

No words.

There are times in life that there are no words.  I never understood that concept, until now. Now I get it. Sometimes you just can't wrap your head around life.  It's ok, I think that protects you. No words explain the sorrow. No words express the shock. No words express the new reality.

In that I have no words, I have to say for the many that ask, yes, I'm okay. We're ok. As okay as our new normal allows. It's a process. And I'll be blunt. I never imagined I'd confront the suicide of a dear one. I never could have imagined the journey that led to that day, those choices. My mind is boggled, battered by it. I feel beaten, but not defeated. I don't feel, but I know it's coming. I'm alone, but not lonely, and certainly surrounded by love. I have not lost my faith, my gratitude or my sense of humor. I'm pretty sure I've gained as much as I've lost.  It's just not completely evident yet. It doesn't have to be. Grief is a process. Growth is a process. Gratitude is a life choice.

If I could offer words of encouragement to those struggling it would be this. Help is always available. There is no shame in asking. Most of us have faltered, it is a part of life. Ask the hard questions, listen gently.

Know that your words, your support and your kindnesses smooth the path I am on.  No words could adequately express my gratitude. No words.