Good Grief

The older I get, the more I see that everyone has their own sad story.  Whether it be the death of a loved one, divorce, abuse, alcoholism, neglect, trauma…  Somewhere along the line, we have all experienced some form of grief.  For me it goes like this:  My father died of cancer when I was seven (he was 39).  And then my brother was killed in a car accident when he was 19 and I was 15.  I kind of think I’ve had my fair share of grief, and have therefore formed a few thoughts on the topic.  

Grief is like a big, thick, ugly scar.  It may be hidden from view due to the clothes you wear, but it’s still there.  You may have done lots of work on it - to reduce it’s size and severity, and that work may have improved it greatly, but it’s still there.  You may be so used to seeing it on your body that you hardly even notice it any more.  Until you do, and see that it’s still there.  You may have seen lots of other people’s scars, and felt a little better that you were not the only one carrying around this ugly mark.  But at the end of the day - it’s still there.

For the longest time I had been under the impression that grief was a totally private matter.  Not something I wanted to air out.  Not something I wanted to look at very often.  In fact, most of the time, it felt terrible to talk about it; it made other people uncomfortable and awkward, or it made one of us cry.  While it may have temporarily helped me to release a little of this emotion - in the end it went right back to its normal hiding place.  It was still there.

Lately, my feelings about my grief have been changing.  I think I am finally starting to accept it.  To say it’s okay to have this scar.  To air it out.  To allow it to move and change and breath.  It’s not that I want to dwell on past feelings.  In so many ways I have really worked on healing and moving through them.  I am discovering that this grief will be with me always.  I am consistently noticing with every new phase of my life, my grief does a little readjustment.  As if it needs to reconfigure itself to this new space.  Slowly I am getting used to the idea that it keeps popping up. Even when I think  I’m done with it, I’m not.  I never will be.

Just this year, I learned the best way to fight the build up of scar tissue is to really massage and manipulate that scar.  To touch it, handle it, deal with it.  And I don’t mean to gently and lovingly caress it - I mean to really apply pressure and break up that tissue underneath, before it solidifies into something permanent.  Isn’t that so appropriately metaphorical?

I recently went to a very sad and painful funeral. I felt like my scars were ripped wide open.  Again.  But I’m okay.  I’m still here - as is my scar.  

I just heard from a long lost friend of my brother’s - 27 years later.  She told me she named her son after my brother, because he was such a good friend to her.  I am definitely revisiting the grief.  But it’s okay.  This is part of the process.  

Every holiday when I am wishing that my dad were here, or my brother and his wife and kids (who he never had the chance to have) - I sit with my grief again.  Sometimes it’s easier to do than other times.  

My point is - it’s there.  So let’s  stop hiding it.  Let’s welcome it back, even if it’s not our own.  

Some people don’t like to cry.  I can understand that.  Sometimes when I cry - I have a hard time stopping.  Not that I am unhappy - on the contrary; I feel extremely happy, fortunate  and blessed.  I am thankful of my family, of my life, of my friends and loved ones.  Life is very good.  But as a friend of mine said, “Life is messy.  Messiness happens.”  I think it would help if we all allowed the messiness to have it’s place at the table, instead of hiding it in the back room.  Let’s welcome it.  Honor it, even.  It takes so much to survive grief.  We should be celebrating the fact that we have lived through it.  Rather than stuffing it away in a closet, let’s say, “Ah, there you are.  Come on, let’s eat!”  

It reminds me of the line from a Simon and Garfunkel song, “Hello darkness, my old friend.  I’ve come to talk with you again.”  Except that I don’t want to think of grief as dark anymore.  I want to think of it as light.  I want to think of grief as good.  

MENTORS

I used to view the word mentor with considerable weight.  For years I shied away from becoming a mentor because I felt it was a huge time commitment, as well as an hefty role to play.  My children are still young, my time is already stretched.  Besides, I wasn’t sure I had what it took to be a mentor.  I mean, a mentor should be someone who guides, assists - ushers a young mind into a new field, career or life path.    

Recently one of my friends said to me, “Thank you for being my mentor.”  My jaw dropped.  She must be joking!  I mean, I can talk your ear off on most days.  I’m very good at lecturing (ask anyone in my family!).  I certainly have opinions (again - ask anyone who knows me).  But mentor?

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how wrong I had been.  Mentoring has no time requirement attached.  It does not even have to be related to careers or life paths.  When I looked it up in Merriam-Webster, I found:

Noun: “a trusted counselor or guide; tutor, coach”

Verb: “to teach or give advice or guidance to”

So I started to view it in a whole new light.  I considered all the people I turn to when I have a question.  There are the friends I call when I need to discuss parenting, or those whom I call regarding writing.  There is of course, my mom, who I call with almost any question.  A mentor can be anyone who offers kernels of wisdom, guidance, advice, help; no matter how large or small.  Trust is an important component.  Mentors allow you to expose your weaker side, your vulnerability, and they believe in your ability to grow.  If you are open to learning new things, you can find mentors all around you.  Like an extensive support staff, except of course they are not your staff - just your support.  What a wonderful way to look at the world - as full of mentors.  

I could create a mentor directory (for myself of course, sorry - you’ll have to do your own!)  Next time I’m feeling kind of lost, I‘ll simply call one of my mentors!  I considered printing my mentor list for you, but that would be an awfully long blog post!  Instead,  here are my mentor categories:

Marriage, Parenting, Home, Intuition, Friendship, Fun, Fitness, Consideration and Caring, Survival, Relationships, Gift Giving, Creativity (and the Creative Process), Writing, Children’s Literature, Teaching, General Bitching and Moaning (mine, not theirs!), Decorating, Healing, Nutritional Health, Spiritual Path, Inspiration...

There are more for sure, but you get the picture.  I really like this quote by Bob Proctor, an author and speaker:  

"A mentor is someone who sees more talent and ability within you, than you see in yourself, and helps bring it out of you."

Think about who you call when you have a question.  Who are your mentors?   Who do you trust with your vulnerability?  And who trusts you to learn from the process?  Call them!

Stuck...

I  have been really stuck this summer with what to write about.  I’d like this blog to be about celebrating life’s little moments, but sometimes that is hard to do.  Our summer started with a tragedy; a 10 year old classmate of my daughter drown in a tubing accident.  It shook every person in our town to his/her core.  He was a beautiful little boy, so full of life and love.  His family has been handling his death with such amazing grace and fortitude.  It is heartbreaking to think about, to see, to imagine.  It is every parent's worst nightmare, and it fills me with such sadness.  So how can I write about celebrating life, when I know there are so many people out there struggling to just make it through the day? 

I came across this email (one of the sappy ones that I saved), titled “45 Life Lessons” by Regina Brett.  I’m copying it below because it helps me bridge that place of sadness to a place of hope.  Some of her life lessons are practical, some are spiritual and some are philosophical.  Overall, they just seem true.  I hope you find at least a couple that strike a cord of truth for you.  And please forgive me for the cut and paste...

Written by Regina Brett, 90 years old, of the Plain Dealer, Cleveland, Ohio .

"To celebrate growing older, I once wrote the 45 lessons life taught me.  It is the most requested column I've ever written.  My odometer rolled over to 90 in August, so here is the column once more:

1.   Life isn't fair but it's still good.

2.   When in doubt, just take the next small step.

3.   Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.

4.   Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends and parents will. Stay in touch.

5.   Pay off your credit cards every month.

6.   You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.

7.   Cry with someone. It's more healing than crying alone.

8.   It's OK to get angry with God. He can take it.

9.   Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck.

10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.

11. Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present.

12. It's OK to let your children see you cry.

13. Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.

14. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn't be in it.

15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don't worry; God never blinks.

16. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.

17. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.

18. Whatever doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.

19. It's never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else.

20. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don't take no for an answer.

21. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don't save it for a special occasion. Today is special.

22. Over prepare, then go with the flow.

23. Be eccentric now. Don't wait for old age to wear purple.

24. The most important sex organ is the brain.

25. No one is in charge of your happiness but you.

26. Frame every so-called disaster with these words 'In five years, will this matter?'

27. Always choose life.

28. Forgive everyone everything.

29. What other people think of you is none of your business.

30. Time heals almost everything. Give time time.

31. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.

32. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.

33. Believe in miracles.

34. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn't do.

35. Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.

36. Growing old beats the alternative -- dying young.

37. Your children get only one childhood.

38. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.

39. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.

40. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back.

41. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.

42. The best is yet to come...

43. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.

44. Yield.

45. Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift."

Cheesy Emails I Love

We’ve all gotten those cheesy forwarded emails from our dear Aunt Suzie or that random high school friend.  You know the ones -  that contain sappy messages about parenthood or God or love or husbands.  We roll our eyes, and read it lest we are quizzed on it later (“Did you get that wonderful email I forwarded to you about the cute baby animals and motherhood?”)  And then we delete it - despite the risk of bad luck falling upon us.  

Its not that I disagree with the idea of savoring each moment or laughing at the picture of the overweight woman with the cigarette hanging out of her mouth clutching her toddler by his feet - upside down.  Its just that, haven’t we seen enough of them already?  Aren’t you dying to tell dear Aunt Suzie, who has too much time on her hands, to please stop sending you this junk?  Or maybe the threats of bad luck if you don’t forward it, bother you so much that you refuse to play a part in it?  

On the whole I am proud to say that I almost never forward those emails.  I can’t say never-never because I’m ashamed to admit that I too have fallen prey to the promises of overwhelming love (and money) which will come my in the next four days if I simply send it to eight people I love.  “Oh why not?” I hear myself saying!  

But wait, there's more: I must confess that once or twice a year, there is that cheesy forwarded email with a quote or a list of life lessons that I just love.  I can’t help it, but I love it.  And then I become like annoying Aunt Suzie and I send it to AT LEAST eight people.  All the people who I think may like the quote or list as much me.  Or to all those whom I think need to hear that quote or read that list!  Although they haven’t seemed to figure life out on their own, this list may be the thing that saves them!  Despite how cheesy these emails are - sometimes they do strike a chord of truth or meaning.

This morning, I stumbled across this one (yes, I actually saved it on my computer!) and thought ‘Ah, this is exactly what I need to read today - exactly what I need to remember today.’  Truthfully, I need to remember it everyday, but it just so happens to be today.  So here's to those cheesy emails we love (you love them too - don't you???) and to the corny people who send them to us!

"Today may there be peace within. 

May you trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be. 

May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith in yourself and others. 

May you use the gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you. 

May you be content with yourself just the way you are. 

Let this knowledge settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love.  It is there for each and every one of us."

PS - I do not know who this quote is attributed to.  If you do, please let me know!

Doling out "Gold Stars"

I subscribe to the Teaching Authors blog, which as a children's writer, I love.  They always have interesting insights and great writing exercises.  Today's post was titled "Gold Stars" by Jeanne Marie Grunwell Ford.  
 Teaching Authors--6 Children's Authors Who Also Teach Writing: Gold Stars 


Gold Stars focuses on summer reading programs for children, and specifically about whether we should reward children for reading when we are attempting to get them to love reading for its own sake.  On the other hand, Jeanne Marie points out - who doesn't love to get recognized for their hard work?  Adults work for the reward of their pay checks!  


My feelings are this: why not offer rewards?  We all like a pat on the back.  Kids especially love to know with physical, tangible proof that they are doing a good job.  What's the worst case scenario?  That they only read in order to receive a reward - and there after don't?  Well,  these kids most likely would never read a thing if they didn't have to - so now, at least they've been exposed to the world of literature.  Maybe, just maybe they will learn to like it.  If not, nothing lost - they still spent the summer reading.  


More importantly, life is short!  Let's look for reasons to celebrate, to have fun, to give out special treats.  Kids are only kids for a short time.  Dole out those stickers, those ice cream cones, those award certificates!  If there is an opportunity to make children feel special - take it!  While it may not be the most significant award of their little lives, it still may bring  smiles to their faces.  And what could be more important than that?


Don't get me wrong.  I'm not the sort of parent who rewards her kids for making their bed or setting the table.  My kids do LOTS of chores, with no reward.  They are part of our family and they need to contribute.  Period.  But summer reading falls into a different category.  Along with a beautiful report card.  There are so many expectations on our children.  When they go that extra mile, work really hard for a duration of time, do more than is expected of them, I say "Let's celebrate!"  I don't hand out money for every A, but I do say "You get to pick the restaurant, we're going out for a special meal because you did such a great job!" 


It makes me think of the book, The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin.  Rubin devotes a year to finding little ways to become happier.  One of her conclusions is that making other people happy, makes one happier.  Some of her goals are to smile more, to be generous, "to be a treasure house of happy memories" (I love that one!).  My fondness for this book stems from these completely simple, every day strategies, which lead to becoming more mindful of one's own happiness.


So if handing out gold stars for every book a child reads makes that child feel good - if it makes her smile, if it adds to her happiness for even just a moment - then we've done our job!  In the end, it will make all of us happier!     

WRITING WEEKEND

This past weekend I was lucky enough to spend three days at Kripalu.  For those of you who don’t know - Kripalu is a yoga retreat center in the Berkshire Mountains.  It is a beautiful facility with the coolest stuff happening.  There are a million forms of yoga training you can attend, you can take workshops in Ayurvedic healing or sacred chanting or meditation.  I could not even begin to describe the course offerings (or the amazing array of delicious organic foods).  So I will simply talk about my course: Writing Down the Bones with Natalie Goldberg and Sean Murphy.  

It was valuable but draining, truly.  Natalie and Sean led us through an array of meditations and writing exercises to help us learn how to “free the writer within”.  By giving us different writing prompts she encouraged us to dig deep and go to the difficult places within.  To get to the point where our minds stop thinking - stops the normal discourse and gets to what she calls “Wild Mind”.  She was most interested in letting the mind wander - to follow its own path.  To conjure up the little moments, in all their rich detail - where the energy lies.  The topics that were least appealing were usually the ones where the most pain resided.  It takes a lot of energy to go to those places.  Here are a few: Tell your story of love.  Tell your story of loneliness.  How did you get here this weekend?  

Some of them were more fun: Describe what is in front of your face (physical or mental).    Tell everything you know about jello.  What is your relationship with music.  My favorite was: Tell something you will never do again (or a place you will never be again).  So here is my response (although I could write about this one forever!) 

I will never again see the paper thin skin on the back of my grandmother’s hands, covered in age spots and blue veins.  I will never look upon her yellowed fingernails as she lights her Newport Menthol cigarette.  I will never again hear her say that she’d vote for Mickey Mouse before she ever voted for a republican.  I will never again taste her apricot bars or her snowball cookies (my favorite) or her peanut butter blossoms - or any of the other dozens of cookies she would make at Christmas.  I will never hear her say “Fight nice!” to my brother and me.  Or hear her say words like “Yens” or “Doo-hickey”.  I will never again see her take off her thick glasses and rub her eyes at the end of the day.  Or see her bright blues eyes twinkle as she laughs.  I will never again ride the Greyhound bus with my brother for fourteen hours, past Three Mile Island in the hot, sticky summer just to go visit her.  I will never see my grandmother again.

For most of these we were given 10-15 minutes to write about them.  It actually helps knowing there is an ending point.  You don’t have to go on and on forever (unless of course you want to!)  Maybe you would consider writing your own - whether you are a writer or not!  It can be serious or funny, sad or silly.  It actually feels good to remember the little details, the ones you haven’t thought about in forever - the ones you forgot you even knew.  So go ahead - give it a try!  You’ll like it!  Ask Mikey!

OLD FRIENDS

I had the chance to chat with an old friend today.  This friend and I go back almost 30 years - eek -hard to believe!  He is one of those friends that I only speak to once a year - maybe two years, but none the less it feels like yesterday.  We spent our time catching up on all that is new in our lives and where we are - where we’re going.    

I realize that those types of friends, the ones you’ve had forever - even though you are not going out for drinks or making lots of new memories together - they serve such an important role.  We discussed the fact that we are forever bonded over those memories, those pivotal moments, those formative years.  I think it’s necessary to have those friends in your life to help you remember who you once were.  To remember those parts of your life that were so long ago - another life time, really.  Similar to how my brother was there to confirm that time that my mom did in fact back hand me across the dining room table for being snotty or to recollect how she used to take us to Charlie’s restaurant for our birthdays and we ordered chocolate eclairs for dessert.  So too, old friends fill in those gaps for non family times.  Like the day we watched a gigantic oak tree fall in total silence in Steep Rock, or getting into Checkers bar under age and drinking pitchers of beer only to puke it all up on the walk home!  Ah - youth!  

Being a 40 something adult - mother with kids - responsible ALL the time, its hard to remember who I once was - good and bad.  While I’d like to think I was generally the same person, I know a lot of growing up has happened since then.  There were dumb things done, awful things said, as well as wonderful moments experienced.  Thankfully  old friends were part of it.  Friends who help bring me back to those times - in a good way.  Friends who help to reinforce the person I’ve  become today - thanks to those times shared way back when…

So readers - who are those old friends for you?  Have you talked to them recently?