"A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling." (NIV)
This is a blog about widows, mothers and daughters, facing change and challenges and receiving ordinary, everyday blessings that don't seem quite so ordinary anymore. It chronicles the journey from grief into the restoration of what has been lost.
*** I am no longer actively posting to this site, so please come visit me at my new site ***
I guess I didn't post about this on this blog, but I have moved to a new blog.
Yes, I started a new blog as part of moving on with my life.
While this blog has focused mainly on my grief for the past two years, along with some of the changes my daughters and I have gone through, I feel like it has run its course.
The new blog is called "Starting Over ... Again" and I feel like that is what I have begun to do this summer.
This summer marked the two year anniversary of my husband's death.
While I know that there is still healing to be done, I feel that my daughters and I have made huge strides in that area.
So to make a clean break, I started a new blog.
Here it is:
“Deep grief sometimes is almost like a specific location, a coordinate on a map of time. When you are standing in that forest of sorrow, you cannot imagine that you could ever find your way to a better place. But if someone can assure you that they themselves have stood in that same place, and now have moved on, sometimes this will bring hope”
“Only people who are capable of loving strongly can also suffer great sorrow, but this same necessity of loving serves to counteract their grief and heals them.”
“You will lose someone you can’t live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.”
For many of us, it's difficult to have a talk with our family members about our "end of life" wishes. We don't have to talk about it with them because, for some reason, we think that talking about it will:
upset them (or upset us)
make it happen faster
make it more "real"
make them think we are waiting for their death
We may think it's too soon to talk about death. The truth is that it's never too soon. The difference between a good death and a difficult death seems to hinge upon whether the dying person has shared their wishes.
Robby and I talked about our wishes, but (unfortunately) never in a very serious way. Robby always joked that he wanted a black gospel choir to sing at his funeral. He loved gospel music and grew up playing bluegrass and gospel, so it was an obvious choice for him. Unfortunately we don't have any all-black churches or gospel choirs in the area. But my daughter did find a recording of a gospel singer, Sister Rosetta Tharpe singing "Peace In The Valley." We played it at Robby's service.
Knowing what kind of care your loved one wishes can make their passing much easier - for them and for you. We (my daughters and I) were able to plan a memorial service that we knew would make Robby proud, from the music to the Marine Honor Guard to the BBQ and beer we offered at the get-together after the service. We could picture him, watching the whole thing from heaven, smiling and laughing as we told stories and shared memories of him and all that he loved.
If you are wondering where to start, check out The Conversation Project. Here you can find a starter kit that will help to break the ice, and make your discussion much easier. You can also see what others have said about their final wishes.
It's never too soon to have a talk like this. And it doesn't have to be a "grim reaper" talk. Having these talks around the kitchen table, before the doctor's office or the emergency room, lessens stress for everyone.
What is something you would like to tell your family about your final wishes?
