When my husband, John, died suddenly in 2000, my life
changed forever. I didn’t think I’d even survive the devastating loss. My grief
and pain, a compilation of various losses—the death of my parents, my brother
and severed friendships caused by disagreements over the process of
grief—pulled me into a dark place. It took time, energy and support to find my
way out.
Thirteen years have passed. John continues to appear in my
dreams. Paging through photo albums triggers memories of all the fun we had,
our travels and our day-to-day life filled with home remodeling projects, yard
work, holiday celebrations and time together. Even yet I’ll awake with an image
of John lingering in my mind. He smiles and holds me, then leaves and doesn’t
come back. Tears build up in my eyes. The image of John’s loving smile and his
arms wrapped around me pushes tear droplets down my cheeks, leaving gentle
paths along my cheeks.
How do I feel today emotionally? I feel peaceful and soft.
Relaxed like a doughboy, happy with my life. I know I’m happy by the lift in my
voice and the tranquil feeling in my breath. Writing about death and loss this
morning is not sad or broken. My spirit accepts the pain that has softened over
time. I’m no longer fighting and pushing the grief deep inside. John will
always be a part of my life.
I ask myself, “What three things give me joy?” Without
hesitation I jot in my notebook,
“writing, walking and time by the sea.” My memories endless like the
waves stroking the beach. Carry your loved one forward with you in your
heart—they’ll always be a part of you.
Read more about my grief journey in my memoir, Twenty-Eight Snow Angels. "The Beach Book Festival" Runner-Up!
Available in e-book and paperback on Amazon at
http://www.amazon.com/Twenty-Eight-Snow-Angels-Widows-Renewal/dp/1432777041
Also on Barnes and Noble at http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/twenty-eight-snow-angels-diane-dettmann/1114818659?ean=9781432777043
Yes, I have experiences like that as well only not as powerful. I was driving by a car wash and donated some money and they said thank you our father has died. They were about 24 or so years old. As I drove away I started to cry. Maybe for my father, maybe for my connection with them, or maybe I am a sofftie.
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