Making a Case for (im)Perfection

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Recently, my brother and I were reminiscing about our childhood. As my brother looked into my linen closet, which I’d organized a few weeks before but was now becoming a bit messy, he asked me if I remembered how our dad used to line up the towels in neat stacks in the linen closet, so that when you went to pull one towel out, the others remained intact. I vaguely recalled, but there was so much of my childhood that was related to “doing things in a certain way” that certain rituals have remained with all of us four children, even into adulthood.
Hospital corners when making the bed, setting the table with the proper setting, family meal altogether, prayers before sleep. Many households today are less conventional and  more casual, some even eschewing separate dining rooms for more informal family eating arrangements. Lifestyles inform family rituals, but during the 50’s there was a proper way to do things and most of the families I knew, black and white, at that time practiced the same daily routines.

My mother and father were wonderful and gracious hosts who entertained often. Family, friends, club meetings. Whatever the occasion they’d go all out to make their guests feel at home with enough food to eat and drink, guest towels, beautifully scented guest soaps, great music, everything to make a guest feel comfortable in a relaxed, unstuffy atmosphere. They hated pretension  and welcomed all. My friends loved the easiness with which they were able to host and still manage to create the perfect atmosphere for enjoyment, political dialogue and fun. They were a bit unusual and they were my role models when it came to hosting a gathering. I felt that they were perfect hosts and I admired the ease with which they entertained. It was always the best.

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The struggle to get things perfect has more to do with how high we set the bar and whether we can rise to meet it. We’re influenced by our childhood experiences, as we all know. Some folks come from regimented backgrounds, chaotic backgrounds, military backgrounds, backgrounds full of neglect all which can contribute to a need to organize our  adult lives “perfectly”. But it is that striving for such a high standard that can actually thwart a person’s efforts to get anything completed, which then leads to procrastination, indecisiveness or an ongoing quest for perfection in everything they do. Like a vicious cycle the behavior continues until one realizes that no matter how hard they strive, the Universe can come along at any moment and throw a monkey wrench into the best laid plans. When these random interruptions occur, there’ll be nothing they can do but to redirect their actions and get ready for whatever is coming down the pike.

It’s important to understand that trying to create perfection in our lives can lead to bigger disappointments and hurts. We should not have to hold others or ourselves to a standard that is almost impossible to achieve and takes the LIFE out of living. In life, people are not flawless, mistakes will be made and we cannot save ourselves from the inevitable pitfalls, hurts, losses, trials and tribulations of living life on earth.

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For many getting every detail correct can be exhausting. But for me it’s second nature as I come by this trait naturally and it’s probably a part of my DNA. Delegating tasks to others can leave me feeling somewhat stressed as I feel that no one can get whatever I need to get done better than I can. I have been disappointed in the past by decisions some have made on my behalf, therefore nine times out of out of 10, I’ll end up doing it myself. The fulfillment that I get from completing a project to my own satisfaction is like a high, which overrides the stress of the hoops I had to jump through to make sure a plan was executed perfectly and in a timely manner.I can trust that I will get it done.

I was visiting a friend one summer at her vacation home on Lake Michigan, and as I sat in the lovely retreat sipping my morning cup of coffee, I watched her make her bed. She had a beautiful mattelasse cover that she was struggling to “get right” on the bed. The thing looked just fine to me, and my offers of help prompted her to tell me to relax. She continued to tussle with that blanket and that scene played out in my mind as I would one day remember her need to get that blanket perfectly onto the bed until she was satisfied. A half-hour of her striving for the perfect the bed, one day caused an epiphany in me as I recounted my own need to do everything perfectly.

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When my husband was diagnosed with cancer, I knew that he was struggling internally with his own questions about why he was stricken with, of all things, pancreatic cancer. During his “long journey home”, sensing and fearing how it would end, there was a period where Chuck was trying to be a better person, his best person. I believe he felt that he might ,in some way, appease God and that in turn God would reverse his predicament. Mind you my husband was a beautiful human being, not perfect, full of flaws,with feet of clay not unlike myself. But faced with a serious illness he bargained with God hoping that a miracle would be granted to him.
Me, on the other side as the caretaker, I didn’t want to slip up in my newly assigned position as designated caretaker of my husband, and so I didn’t want to assign anyone else to take over my responsibilities. I knew what had to be done, I couldn’t  rely on anyone else to care for Chuck as well as I could. This is what I thought in my own mind. I loved him more than anything and if anyone could make him better I could. I thought what if there was a slip up and what if a medication was not given when it was supposed to be given. What if this what if that. I knew how to care for my Chuck perfectly, to keep him here with me as long as possible. Maybe God would see and allow him to live, I would think, but I would soon learn that God doesn’t do these terrible things. I had many things to learn about God and when bad things happen to good people. But as time went on the hard truth about Chuck’s prognosis became a reality, probably much sooner to Chuck than to me. I was becoming tired but I did not want to drop the ball. However, as  time went on, caring for Chuck became more difficult as his cancer progressed and I eventually relinquished and allowed a home attendant to come in and help me. Here is where I had to trust that she could take care of my husband as I would….. and she did. I had to trust that his sister would look after her dear brother when I tended to other things, and she did. I had to trust that his brother would care for him when I was unavailable, and he did. And when his best friend offered to sit with Chuck while I went out, he also was able to look after him with love and care.

Searching for perfection is an elusive pursuit and when it comes down to the brass tacks, it’s all about allowing oneself to trust others and to forgive oneself when things aren’t perfectly done. Perfection should not be a way of life, living life should be a way of life. Keeping things orderly only heightens stress, creating more pressure on oneself and in the end what will be gained? Life is to be lived freely, without self imposed constraints.We must also be willing to be open to changing our way of thinking, as this will help to free us from antiquated ideas and restricting habits that block one from living life to the fullest.

My desire to care for my Chuck perfectly didn’t change the inevitable. He died and part of me died too.The perfectionist is a part of who I once was, but I’ve learned that I no longer need to prove to myself that I must live up to a standard that nobody can meet. The need to prove to myself that doing things perfectly will eliminate any imbalance or negativity in my life is a a practice with a price too high for any human being to adhere to especially the dying.

Striving for perfection often comes from a need to create balance in a life that may not have  been so “perfect” growing up. As adults, we must learn to live life freely untethered to broken pasts and other baggage that keeps us weighed down in the present. We must release the past and try to go more with the flow, shedding the unnecessary baggage that keeps us from truly being us.

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To find out more about how you can heal after loss read Brave in a New World:A Guideto Grieving the Loss of a Spouse available on Amazon

Becoming A Listening Vessel


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When someone loses a spouse there will soon come a time when they will need someone else to listen to them as they mourn, asking rhetorical questions, telling their story of grief over and over and over again. I write about this often because it’s an important part of the griever’s journey, being able to talk to someone, and not be scolded, ignored, criticized or interrupted as they talk about what they’re going through.

When I was grieving and not really understanding what I was going through, I needed to tell somebody. I had taken an early retirement to care for my ailing husband. After he passed, I found that I was home when nearly everyone I knew was working so during the day,when things got really tough for me emotionally, I had very few people to talk to. Thank God for my brother in law, who had lost his brother, who shared the pain of the loss with me and we could talk to each other as if Chuck was still alive, neither one of us wishing to release him yet. It was an odd time for me also because there were moments when I wanted to talk, but most of the time I preferred to be alone rather than burdening anyone else with my sorrows.

Often, when people inquired about how I was doing, the conversation would invariably turn to them, telling their stories of painful childhoods, divorces, abandonment, separations and other emotional traumas they’d experienced in their lives. All of these  stories were totally unrelated to my experience, but I would listen politely nonetheless. And,of course, they would always end with a comment about how lucky I was to have had Chuck in my life or how I would get over “it” soon. These scenarios played out over and over again, until finally I decided to suffer in silence, as I began to feel “ashamed” for sharing my situation and I also began to feel that I should just be grateful for having had Chuck in my life. But, this is when I also was beginning to feel a transformation taking place within me as these occasional conversations began to complicate my raw feelings of grief. The insouciance on the part of some toward my  feelings didn’t sit well nor did it help to diminish my grief. In fact their actions had the opposite effect of compounding my feelings of grief with feelings of anger, and shame. At some point I would eventually distance myself from individuals who could not be there for me in the most giving and unselfish way. Being there for those who grieve is what I like to characterize as being a “listening vessel”.


I had a few friends  and relatives who could listen to me and encouraged me with stories of their own that were related to my particular situation.I was at a party the year of my loss and was talking to a friend who asked me how I had been.With my grief still raw,I shared the story of my loss and he listened for as long as I spoke without interrupting.And when I was done he offered condolences and heartfelt words of comfort. All of  those who were able to let me have my say, became my armchair therapists as I found my “sea legs”, acclimating myself to the long and rocky road ahead. They were my “listening vessels”.


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Not everyone is suited for that very role, and as we navigate the grief journey, we come to recognize those who can be there for us in that unique and special way. Empathy is not an ability that everyone can access. No blame is meant for those who can’t empathize, as many aren’t able to come to grips with their own grief , buried so deep, that it appears as if it no longer exists.

But I must tell you that falling apart is at the core, the essence of beginning to heal one’s brokenness. Unresolved issues always remain. Feeling the pain plays a part in beginning the process of healing wounds suffered long ago. When many people are confronted with the tears, hurts and the anguish of another, they do not want to be drawn into another’s pain for fear of “catching that feeling” thus tumbling down their own rabbit hole to face their own longterm  losses and grievances.

Related imageI did have a very small number of friends to whom I was able to talk and repeat my unanswerable questions and emotional torment to. They listened, interjected stories related to  Chuck and Chuck and me. Sometimes they even helped to answer questions that lingered still. When I would walk away or hang up the phone from these very special individuals, their willingness to patiently listen was a restorative gift to my soul.Dealing with long-term hurts and losses, crying about them, writing about them, thinking about them, making peace with them is what opens one up to be able to be there with empathy for others. That is the making of a strong man or woman. Holding ‘it’ in actually creates people who are bitter, cold, angry, and emotionally distant. These are the people who wish for the bereaved to be done with their tears. Holding it in, pushing the pain away, keeping that stiff upper lip does not a strong human make. Holding on to hurts and losses will actually chip away at your spirit over time. Your body, no matter what physical shape it is in, will soon have to deal with those issues in ways we cannot predict. The key is to avoid being forced to deal with one’s inner emotional pain. When my husband could no longer move and was confined to his bed, I was tasked with being caretaker and “Dr.” on a daily basis. As his final days were drawing near, he was in terrible, silent agony and thankfully I had a hotline in the evenings to call whenever I felt a need for assistance. I did not want my husband to suffer or feel the pain and I wanted to help him more than anything. I ended up using that hotline several evenings a week. The people on the other end, mostly women, always showed concern and great empathy and in those last weeks I came to learn  that they “knew” what I was going through.These amazing women were not medical professionals, a fact which I learned when I called to thank them after my husband had passed. I expressed to one woman that I was grateful for her knowledge and assistance. Her answer was simple, “It’s what we do, because we all know……we’ve been there.”Widows and widowers giving back to those who are “on that road”. They knew what to do and say because they’d all been down that road themselves.

Some people lack empathy, and it is something one would have to work on developing; that is one’s choice. But if people begin to work on their buried losses, grief and sorrows  and not be afraid of the pain, then that will create an opportunity for them, in turn, to offer to others the love, grace and mercy that they need in order for them to heal after loss. Holding it in delays the inevitability of  having to put closure on  hidden sorrows. The act of holding in grief, stuffing it, may seem to create a calm exterior, which belies an inner turmoil that no one else can see. Being able to have someone listen to your “story”, even if that listener is you, will help to ease your pain. It also helps to bring closure as well as open up the ability for you to empathize with others and become the listening vessels we all need.Image result for peonies in hatboxes



Author’s Note: Please leave your comments.I love to hear your stories of  grief, healing love, loss and new beginnings.

To find out more about how you can heal after loss read Brave in a New World:A Guideto Grieving the Loss of a Spouse available on Amazon







Love Notes: What Remains

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In this month of love and romance I share these thoughts with you:

I met my future husband to be in the summer of 1987. Several people have wanted to take the credit for bringing us together, but it was my friend Kathy who initially introduced us at a fundraiser I hosted annually to benefit the Central Park Conservancy here in New York City, called the Whites Picnic. Later that summer, on Labor Day weekend, Chuck and I would meet by chance again at a friend’s barbecue in Brooklyn. He came over and reintroduced himself to me and felt my hair, mentioning how soft it was. Chuck was  marketing a line of women’s hair care products for a very high profile client,so touching my hair was appropriate and sent a tingle up my spine.

We had our first date, rather unexpectedly. I was a host and producer for a lifestyle show on cable television and was searching for single men for a show I was doing on males giving their views on the state of  male/female relationships. As it so happened, one guy could not make it but suggested Chuck as a replacement for him. It ended up that Chuck couldn’t come either, but he appreciated the invitation. Soon after Chuck would call me and asked me out on our first date. It was a freezing evening, that had included a day where I had to attend the funeral of a friend. Death, loss, and new beginnings were all unwittingly wrapped up in that day. The movie we saw: Fatal Attraction. Anyway, we were soon a couple beginning to enjoy our life together.

The first time Chuck had me over to his apartment for dinner it was the first time I would be seeing where he lived. Expecting a tricked out,modern bachelor pad, I was surprised and horrified to see a very humble studio with mismatch furnishings, hand-me-downs from relatives. But he had lit candles, that were actually melted down, and he’d prepared a superb gourmet meal for me with his little brown hands. That act of giving to me by putting in the effort to make me a dinner from scratch, was a moment in time that I treasured always as I came to love that one room studio on the Upper Westside of Manhattan.

Eventually, my son and Chuck’s two nephews, who would one day be cousins, would, on occasion,pile into his apartment and his sister, with whom I had become fast friends, and I would leave the boys there and go on our merry way. Shopping and eating on the then trendy Columbus Avenue and beyond was what us carefree single moms pursued.Chuck and the boys would have adventures of their own exploring Central Park, which Chuck knew with his eyes closed, or taking in a movie or some such fun. Whatever they did it was sure to include lots of sweets and food and fun, along with lectures on how to be a good, solid man. Those were the halcyon days, great memories that I never want to be erased.

Chuck and I loved the movies and went to many, Glory and Breakfast at Tiffany’s among our faves. We would cry at the sad parts and laugh at our favorite TV shows like Curb Your Enthusiasm and Dream On.

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One of my favorite movies is Heartburn with Meryl Streep and Jack Nicholson. Well, there is a part in the movie where the character Rachel, decides to whip up a meal of Spaghetti Carbonara. I was so inspired by that part in the movie that I decided to make Spaghetti Carbonara for Chuck.I went to a neighborhood market, Fairway, which was at that time smaller and there was only one. I happened to run into the manager and asked him where I could find pancetta which is an Italian smoked bacon. I told him that I was making Spaghetti Carbonara. He proceeded to take me to the back of the store and introduced me to the butcher, and he tells the man to “give her whatever she needs“. He then got on the phone and called someone who gave me a recipe for Carbonara. I don’t know what made him do that, but I like to think he was just happy to hear that someone was cooking in the name of love.Image result

That meal must have been blessed by the gods because when I served it to Chuck, he was so impressed that he would think of me as this really great cook. What he didn’t know was that without that recipe, it could’ve really turned into runny eggs with bacon minus the spaghetti.

Recently, I came across this recipe as I looked through old mementos. I thought back on that time and how, our love, for movies, food and my love for Chuck inspired me to make a meal that was special, just for him. His caring love for me had inspired him to do the same. As the characters in the movie were at some point professing their disdain for marriage and vowing never to do so, in the next scene there they were getting hitched in a prewar apartment in the Apthorp located in this city that I love.

I, the dreamy, romantic, would like to think that my Carbonara, made with my little brown hands, sprinkled with all the love I had for Chuck, is what touched his heart and drew us ever closer together.We too,would eventually walk down the aisle of New York’s St. Paul’s Chapel, beginning our new life, till death do us part.

My time spent with Chuck was magical, real, full of life’s travails (him losing his mom to Alzheimer’s and and his beloved dad, and the loss of my dad as well) all meant to be and then like magic it was gone. But like the memories and random love notes that conjure thoughts of days long gone, the love remains, spiraling, like spaghetti, up to heaven.

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Author’s Note: Please leave your comments.I love to hear your stories of love, loss and new beginnings.

To find out more about how you can heal after loss read Brave in a New World:A Guideto Grieving the Loss of a Spouse available on Amazon

Widows: Walking a Different Path

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How Does One Rebuild A Life When it’s Been Smashed into Smithereens?

After my husband Chuck died, I was left standing in the middle of my interrupted life, not knowing which way to turn. I remember myself in those days as feeling trapped in my body, desperate to get out. Everyday was like Groundhog Day, the same excruciating pain, the same numbness, anxiety and depression. I was going through the motions each and every day, waking up, starting a new day over again, searching for my husband, falling asleep and awakening to the same routine again.
I had developed routines, but these felt shallow and not rooted in reality, my new reality, that was taking shape as I continued to live and breathe. I became desperate with a desire to distract myself from my ever-present thoughts and to stay healthy so as not to lose my fragile mind. This was a very, very tough time, and as I entered what I like to call my “new normal” I was sure it would last indefinitely.
As the months dragged on swiftly – normal time ceased to exist for me – it was some time in the next year that I began to feel a bit more hope. I would come to realize that I was starting over, a clean canvas, but now all alone. I had an opportunity to reconstruct my life anyway I chose. I was, after all, now ONE, and all my future choices were my call. I no longer had to ask for anybody else’s opinion, or have my husband weigh in on the decisions I would make. This realization helped to drive my life forward. I began to assess everything in my life: my home, my work, my faith, my friends, my lifestyle, myself, and my purpose.

Who was I Before and Who Did I Want to be Now?

Everyone who experiences the loss of a spouse should do a self-assessment at some point, when they’re ready and able. It’s a good thing.
You might ask yourself, “How do I want to live my life now?”
This question will help to highlight the fact that your life has transitioned from two to one (hard to swallow), and although you are alone, you do not have to spend your life in loneliness.

A New Opportunity

Although it’s understandably difficult for many widows to look at their loss as a moment in time when positive changes are just beyond the horizon, in time many will come to know that they have new options for their lives.
When you reach that point where you’re ready to create something new in your life you might want to ask yourself a few more questions. Jot the questions and the answers in a little journal that you can refer to as you go, it will serve as a template for your new life. Here are some samples of what you might ask yourself:

1. Who am I now?
2. How has the effect of this loss changed me?
3. Where do I go from here?

Be truthful with yourself, as this is not about optics, but an opportunity for you to really decide in what direction you want to take your life. These questions will help to give you an idea of what you want and how you want to live.Your new life is certainly not one you’ve lived before, as you are now a widow. How small or how large do you want your future to be? How do you plan to get there? It’s all up to you.
You should also ask yourself one very practical questions: What can I do to change my living space to suit my new life and needs?
I would suggest that you do not do anything drastic, but think about how you can personalize where you live so that it suits your needs now. You can actually consider moving, or making changes in your present home that you would never have thought about doing before.A fresh look at one’s surroundings can inspire you to look at making changes in other areas of your life.
I have a friend who lost his wife and is now in a relationship with someone who is different from his former spouse. Although this friend grieved the loss of his wife so sorely, he would one day begin to yearn for female companionship again. He met someone who now complements who he is now,and they are having a great time together.
We as human beings are always in transition, because the world is ever-changing, situations change, death changes those who are affected, as it should, as we become cognizant of our own mortality and the time we have left. We must not get stuck in the past and we must continue to live and thrive and be hopeful about our future. Death then, can become the catalyst for new opportunities to come to fruition in one’s life. After a time, we may or we may not come to this realization, but if we do, we must seize the time. Staying stuck in the past does not stretch us, and may do more harm than good.

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Trying a different route home, making new friends, developing new interests will unlock doors allowing new experiences to take hold.There will be bouts of loneliness, waves of grief, but the time between these episodes will decrease as one rebuilds a life bit by bit.
Many people are so laden with grief that to become free of it can be unsettling, and may seem uncomfortable at first. But as one begins to feel a sense of optimism and hope as they turn their attention to living again  and move away from the constant pain of grief, they will begin to rebuild their lives in ways that suit their new normal. One may even open the door to love again if they choose.
Ask yourself some of the questions that I have posed. You will probably not be able to do this in the beginning of your loss, but at some point you will want to figure out your next move.The answers to these questions will become the blueprint that you will use as you recreate your life.
Should you choose to stumble down a new path like a newborn,you will be led in a direction beyond widowhood toward a life with no labels, only to discover who you are becoming next, on your own terms.

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Read more about rebuilding life after loss my in book  Brave in a New World: A Guide to Grieving the Loss of a Spouse  at Amazon or  you can order at Barnes and Noble.

   New Year-New Beginnings

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This year, actually this month will be the ninth year since my husband Chuck passed away from pancreatic cancer. It seems like a long while ago and only moments all at the same time. Funny how after you lose a spouse the time morphs into an endless stream of time: night, day, day, night. Weeks seem like days, months seem like weeks and years seem like some yet to be determined series of stages stretched out into seamlessly stitched together moments that transcend years, turning time into a flowing succession of days differentiated only by light and dark.

The year that Chuck passed away I recall that I was anxious about leaving that year behind. I knew that I’d never be able to feel his presence in the same way. I wouldn’t be able to say that he just said that a few weeks before or that he’d just done this or that a few months earlier. Once I stepped into the new year I felt I would no longer feel his presence, just his absence.

There were so many things to get used to after the loss. I had to learn new ways of living without him on the planet. Towels in the bathroom, setting the table, what to do with his drinking mug, going places alone were just some of the adjustments I needed to make. When it came to bouncing ideas off somebody or getting a second opinion or sharing something funny, I had to come to grips with his permanent absence and my sudden thrust into “oneness”.

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But here is what also occurred as I entered a New Year, I was slowly leaving my past behind. Although I didn’t stop grieving, far from it, the new year, in retrospect, was the start of my new beginning. I was truly starting over again, from square one. During that period, I began to create new routines, develop new interests, revisit past interests, change my living space and take a good look at who I wanted to be. I decided that being me, my authentic me, was a good start and so I began to forge a new life rebuilding it brick by brick.

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I examined old ideas, attitudes and lifestyles. I planned to retain some semblance of who I had been before Chuck, but I also explored fresher ways of being myself. It was a crash course in starting over and I was being taught by the world around me, which was moving faster than the speed of light. I was beginning to see everything with fresh eyes, an open mind, an open heart, and an open spirit. All of this was happening consciously and unconsciously as I grieved and continued to move my life forward.

As the years passed I could feel changes taking place within myself and in my life. I was different, my home was transformed, and I realized that I was in the midst of my new beginning.

I knew,as I continued to mourn my husband’s death, that I didn’t want to get stuck in my grief or  “widow narrative” so, after a time, I allowed my new life to mold me. And although, in the beginning, I did not want to betray my lost husband by going on with my life, I came to understand that he was no longer here and he would never want me to spend the rest of my days mourning him. Chuck would want me to live a full life just as we did when he was here.

My advice to all who are embarking on a new year of self-discovery and expansion is to treat this new year as your new beginning and an opportunity to live life differently. Discard those “obstacles” in your life that prevent you from making friends, keeping friends, creating opportunities for new and fresh relationships, for opportunities to be adventurous, see new things and take risks. Decide to live differently. This applies to those who have experienced loss and anyone who would like to tweak their lives in positive ways.

Don’t allow the new year to be another missed opportunity to make changes that improve the conditions of your life. As long as we fall asleep nightly and awaken to a new day, we’ll  always be able to start over. Use this new year as a time to mark your new beginning. Become introspective, no matter how uncomfortable that may feel and then make the changes that will help you to feel productive, alive and whole again, or  possibly even for the first time.


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                                                                   Happy New Year                                         




To find out more about how you can heal after loss read Brave in a New World:A Guide to Grieving the Loss of a Spouse available on Amazon

Coping with Grief and The Holidays

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Anticipating the “first Christmas” without my husband produced a lot of anxiety within myself. I remember doing last-minute run-arounds on Christmas Eve, one stop included picking up a cake from Magnolia Bakery. My husband loved cake and sweets and getting a cake from this bakery had become a Holiday tradition for us. On the first Christmas Eve, my son and his girlfriend were going to pick me up, as it was my last stop before I went back home. There was a light snow falling and I sat outside the bakery waiting for my son to arrive. Suddenly, as I felt the snow on my cheeks and watched the Christmas Eve last minute hustle as couples walked by arm in arm, with packages and shopping bags, I began to silently weep. The tears came down my cheeks and seemed to freeze on my face. I couldn’t believe that I was about to celebrate Christmas without my husband and I was missing him terribly as I thought about how he loved the season and how he was no longer here to celebrate. I wanted to shout, “Hey, how can you people keep going on with your lives and my husband is no longer here on the planet?”

But I didn’t, and went home, put last-minute touches on Christmas dinner, wept and wept, eventually falling into bed, silently wishing that the next day would whisk by in an instant. That first Christmas was small and we prayed a prayer of inclusion acknowledging our loss. This would remain a part of a new ritual incorporated into each succeeding year. Thereafter, the pain lessened little by little, brand new traditions were born, now including many more who have become a part my of my “family of friends” as well as well as my own wonderful family.

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The first holidays after the loss of a loved one are referred to as the “firsts”. No, I didn’t coin that word, but a few months after my father had died, I spoke to a couple and told them I was about to celebrate my first Thanksgiving without my dad. The wife said to me, “Oh you’re about to experience the firsts”.Since then, I’ve come to refer to the firsts as the first holidays in a succession of holidays that occur in the first year after the death of a spouse or any loved one. Those who are left must figure out how to manage each occasion,now alone.Every occasion takes on a new meaning, even the less significant ones underscore the absence of the lost loved one.

After my husband Chuck died, I had to face all of the upcoming occasions of our lives, previously celebrated together, alone.There were also several new milestones that he would not be a part of. While I may now continue to share these holidays with friends and family, pangs of sorrow sometimes appear out of the blue and I just have to roll with it. Grief is like that as it comes in waves.But as time goes on one learns to manage those unexpected emotional lows as it becomes a part of one’s “new normal”.

The bereaved approach these annual holidays with much anxiety and trepidation, especially the first ones in the year that they have experienced the loss of a loved one. Some may feel anticipatory anxiety, while others have feelings of dread and foreboding in anticipation of the upcoming occasions.

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I too,  felt some of these feelings after losing my husband and Thanksgiving and Christmas loomed like monsters in the distance. I did manage to get through each occasion as best as I could, and found that each subsequent year got a tiny bit easier.

Here are a few tips on how one can cope with grief and the holidays:

  1. Don’t be Hard on Yourself– keep in mind that the holidays will be different and if you’re hosting, ask others to pitch in and help, picking up the slack of not having your spouse to assist.
  2. Go along with the Day’s Activities– Avoid isolating yourself, join family and friends as much as you’re able. But if you decide that the day gets a little bit overwhelming then retreating to another room away from the maddening crowd. There you can take a breather from the stress of the occasion. If you decide to leave early that’s fine too. Do what you can and remember youare in charge of how you want to spend the holidays. Also keep in mind grief comes in waves and an untold number of sights, sounds, and things said can catch you off guard emotionally. So, follow your heart, and just go with your flow.

4. Change-You may want to consider changing the way you celebrate. Incorporating                new rituals, eliminating old ones that cause distress,is a good way to ease yourself              into the newness of handling the holiday without your spouse or loved one.

  1. Scale Down– Many occasions entail several days of celebrations. Try to pick and choose where and what you will attend. You want to reserve your energy to prevent becoming overwhelmed and exhausted. New Year’s Eve might be a great time to chill and relax at home, especially since the celebratory activities may not fit your mood. But a New Year’s Day brunch, or open house may seem less overwhelming and easier to navigate.
  2. Sit This Year Out- The loss is fresh, and you feel as if you cannot bear going through the stressful rituals customary for your holiday celebrations, feel free to sit it out. Let close friends and family know your intentions so they don’t worry, and plan the day so that you can deal with the onslaught of emotions that may come up. Go to a movie, binge watch your favorite TV shows, or catch a movie classic that is unrelated to a holiday memory. Give yourself a spa day at home, curl up with a good book and a favorite beverage and just do the day your way.You might even want to visit the grave of your lost loved one.

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Making a plan to honor your lost loved one will help everyone to feel a part of your experience and help them to express their own thoughts on the loss as many have been impacted also in various ways.It may not seem like it in the beginning, it didn’t to me, but rest assured that the pain will slowly subside. Each moment of pain, in time, will give way to a renewed spirit and an appreciation of a life once lived, a life once shared, and beautiful memories to have and to keep.

One day you may decide to give back to others in some way during the holidays. This will help to fill the void left by your loss. Helping others is one way of helping us to heal ourselves. In time you will have gotten a handle on dealing with your loss. Be patient with yourself and do not be discouraged as this too shall get easier.

I promise.

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To find out more about how you can heal after loss read Brave in a New World:A Guideto Grieving the Loss of a Spouse available on Amazon .

Finding Your Way after Losing a Spouse

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In the beginning……

I had several landmark events that occurred during my husband’s bout with Stage IV pancreatic cancer. I had a milestone birthday the December before he died. Many friends came together and surprised me with a beautiful party, but I missed not having my husband there by my side, as he was at home, in hospice care.Several months earlier, I had retired from my profession as an art teacher, having decided to give all my attention to  caring for my husband Chuck.

I remember traveling downtown to “put in my papers,” and after my exit interview when I stood up to leave the retirement office, the gentleman who had been assisting me said, “Congratulations you are now retired. You should know that this will be the start of a new way of living.”

I left, caught a cab and, as the car drove past New York’s Ground Zero on a misty rainy afternoon, I wasn’t sure how I should be feeling. I had been doing a really good job of holding in my feelings for quite some time, but, on this day, I had mixed emotions, which were beginning to seep through the seams.

I wasn’t really able to celebrate, but I wanted to cry and did shed a tear as I headed toward home to my unknown future. I felt sad and slightly excited, but this was all against the backdrop of my husband and his illness, which was an ever-present shadow looming in the background.

Years later, when I would look back on those occasions that might’ve called for me,under normal circumstances, to be happy, I felt that everything had been tainted. The reality of the events that were taking place in my life was a joy killer that snatched away even the slightest feeling of joy.But one thing I knew for sure,it wasn’t my husband’s fault. We were at the mercy of circumstances that didn’t ask permission to be invited into our lives.

Just a year earlier, in the summer of 2007, I had surprised Chuck with a wonderful party on the rooftop of a brand-new Manhattan restaurant on the occasion of his 60th birthday. It was truly a perfect day. The weather was perfect and some 40 friends joined us for food, drink and the best, best music.

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Celebrating my husband

I had organized everything and my son, stepped up and finalized the arrangements. On the evening of the event, my husband was so shocked by the surprise that he literally gasped as he saw familiar faces greeting him with birthday greetings and love.

Little did we know that this would be the final time most of these folks would see Chuck alive. Just some five months down the road we would have our lives turned upside down by a diagnosis of volcanic proportions. I was glad that at least we had been able to have a grand fete with our closest friends and family before the impending tidal wave engulfed us.

I became anxious, nervous and extremely depressed. I didn’t know how to stop my dive into the depths of despair.I missed my husband and tried to make sense of the loss.He was really gone, period. I was still here but fading.

Although I didn’t have any widow or widower friends at that time, I’ve since encountered many people who’ve lost a spouse. They too can identify with feelings of emptiness, isolation, numbness and depression. They do not know how they can go on, how they will survive, how they will handle the pain or how they can make the pain go away.Some men and women, especially women, feel it is a betrayal to let go of the pain, so they hang on for dear life, rejecting suggestions of ways that they can honor their spouse but begin to rebuild their lives.

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I didn’t know what to expect as I thought my extraordinary feelings were part of a new normal for me. Eventually, however, I knew I couldn’t go on feeling vulnerable, anxious, and depressed indefinitely. So, I took the following steps to begin to move my life forward:

Here are a few suggestions of things to think about doing as you begin to rebuild your life:

  • Individual counseling. This helped immensely, especially in the very beginning after the loss. My wounds were fresh and I felt as though I was about to fall off the face of the earth. I learned coping skills that assisted me with the grieving process including, visualization exercises, meditation, “talking” to my husband and feeling the pain.
  • Group counseling
  • Connecting with friends and family
  • Staying active and exercising
  • Seeking medical and alternative medical assistance as needed.
  • Silence…just being alone and quiet became a sacred time for me to spend with my thoughts and to cry. During this time I meditated, prayed and had “conversationswith Chuck”. I soon learned to keep my eyes on the target that no one else but I could see as I began to recreate my life, bit by bit.

No matter what anybody else thinks,you know yourself best. You can devise a plan to help yourself rebuild your life and no one has to have input into that plan except you.Regaining my strength and vitality, being able to transform the pain from the loss of my husband into forever memories was my goal. I did not think that that was possible in the beginning, but little by little as I set aside time for myself, I was able to move my life forward.Then, one day, I realized that the sun was shining brighter and I no longer felt his absence when I entered my home. I was embarking on a new journey alone.

It’s been several years now since I began this overwhelming healing journey and so you might ask, “Do you still have feelings of sorrow even now?” The answer is yes but it’s a far cry from the day-to-day sadness that I experienced for months and years, now so long ago.

For those who have young children to care for or work outside the home, I would suggest that before you go to sleep take a little time to grieve. Purchase some DVDs on meditation and yoga, or go to an actual yoga class. Try journaling your thoughts and writing down your dreams especially, those that involve your lost spouse.You may find a message or an answer in the dream that helps you to begin to feel a bit better. These are a few mindfulness practices that can help to ease you through the grief journey.

During this time, your friends and family, out of concern for your well-being, may urge you to grieve quickly. There is no such thing as grieving quickly. Take all the time that you need to heal yourself.There are many online grief support groups and social media forums that did not exist when I lost my husband several years ago. These support communities will assist in helping one feel less isolated. Remember, be patient with yourself and understand that by connecting with others, you will soon find that you are not alone.

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To find out more about how you can heal after loss read Brave in a New World:A Guide to Grieving the Loss of a Spouse available on Amazon or at LULU

           No Grief Like Mine

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When someone loses a spouse, or loved one, a numb feeling sets in and they are stunned and surprised that something so horrific has occurred. Initially, they may feel literally frozen in place because, essentially, they’re in a state of shock. Some people begin to forget things, feel unsure and unsteady on their feet. Some may experience a slight dizziness, anxiety, even vertigo, while also developing a fear of going out or being around strangers. Still others may even find themselves crying uncontrollably with a desire to remain in bed under the covers, day to night……night to day.

Initially, they may relish the company of others and then slowly retreat to a newfound world of grief and sorrow, anger and self-pity. As they yearn to see the person they’ve just lost one more time they may want to scream and rant and rave to God or to no one in particular. 


There are a variety of scenarios that can be played out by all who grieve, but also, there are many who never feel any emotions because they stuff their feelings hoping that they can quickly move on with their lives. This is not the wisest course to follow because at some point down the road that delayed grief will reappear, possibly accompanied by consequences that one would have wanted to avoid.

In so many cases of loss, men and women may not have the “luxury of time” to grieve, as they have been left with children or even grandchildren to care for, jobs to get back to, financial situations to deal with etc. These circumstances can overshadow the grieving process. The pain from the loss does not disappear, it just merely takes a backseat to more pressing situations that beg for attention. But, I can assure you that unresolved grief will reappear in some form as time goes by.


When we think of the hurt and anguish that we experience when we lose a spouse or a loved one, and when we are in the thick of the pain, we are sure that there is no one who has experienced such agony as our own. And in many ways, we as individuals, are the only ones who have experienced our own personal grief, which is the result of loss. It is our experience and as we sink to the depths of our own personal despair, we get to feel every inch of the loss, making it our own, trying to quell the pain, sometimes unsuccessfully.

This is all a part of the grief experience, as we become immersed in our pain and sorrow. It is our journey, and it will travel with us like a shadow that has taken us by the hand, not following, but leading us everywhere we go. It is our new stay-cation that only we alone can experience. The same loss to our relatives, siblings, parents is the theirs too, but different from our own. So, we must own it, feel it, wail about it, and sometimes even write about it.

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As time goes on people who are bereaved may want to share with others who are also grieving the loss of a spouse. The initial thought of joining a bereavement group may be a bit overwhelming. Some are reticent about sharing their pain and thoughts with strangers. Others, however, are up to their necks in grief and sorrow and are hoping to get some relief as they are in search of “something” that will help alleviate the searing pain. That was me; I longed for something to help stop the excruciating pain I was experiencing daily. When I became a part of my grief group, they, unbeknownst to them, became my healers. We listened to each other and asked and answered many questions. We repeated our stories over and over again and eventually, it seemed as if we were always in each other’s lives. We felt each other’s losses and we comforted each other as we bared our souls on a weekly basis.

It was an odd comfort to learn of each other’s pain and sorrow, because I finally knew that I was not alone. One woman had lost a child many, many years earlier and was now faced with life without the two people she loved so well. The recent loss of her husband brought up grief memories of her early loss of a child years ago. But we became the virtual hug that we all needed as we decided to live and not die.

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To grieve the loss of a spouse or anyone we love so dear is to face the fact that we will never see them again on earth. There are no more words, no more direct contact, no more activities to be shared ever. When that reality sinks in, the emotional distress that ensues can be more than one can handle.

However, I suggest that we must cling to the pain; we must cry and scream and talk to anyone who is patient enough to listen to us. After a while we may seek to join a community of grievers where we can talk openly and safely about our feelings. Do not put up barriers of race, religion, creed, or color when thinking of reasons to not join a group. Excuses come easy but there is relief from the intense feelings one has when we can be helped by being with others who know. In my group, we were signs of life for each other. We were willing to be there for each other and in turn we were being there for ourselves. We collectively held the torch as all of us marched toward the light. 

It is in bereavement groups, and other grief communities where we discover that our grief, though unique to us, is understood by others as well. Then we suddenly realize that we are not alone and hand in hand we’ll guide each other into a new world, bravely.

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Rumblings in My Spirit


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My late husband Chuck and I were in our late 30s when we got married, and I was over the moon excited about marrying my beloved. He had been married twice before but still shared my excitement and happily joined me in planning our new life together.

I am an artist, and a formally trained jeweler. I dabbled a bit in painting, but jewelry making was my passion. In my early 20’s I was exhibiting my jewelry in galleries and it was selling in major dept. stores and boutiques in the Northeast. I also taught school, art in the early years, second and fifth in the middle years, art again at what would be the end of my professional teaching career, as I retired early and unexpectedly, to care for my ill husband.

After Chuck passed away and the dust began to slowly settle, I wondered how I would rebuild my life again. My slate was clean and I only had myself to think of as I navigated a new world that was foreign at best and scary at worst. There were times when I found myself teetering on the edge of extreme insanity and uncertainty.

As I began to wonder and think about what I wanted to do with my life going forward, I was forced to look at my past. I recalled that when Chuck was alive, in the years before his death, I was beginning to feel as if something was missing in my life. I was Chuck’s wife and we had a good marriage, but I was experiencing what I would characterize as a rumbling in my spirit. It was during these many periods of introspection that I discovered that I was yearning for something more. I felt that I was missing something in my life and I needed to do something different, although I wasn’t sure exactly what that would be.

I soon realized that these intense feelings of discontent were letting me know that I wasn’t being my authentic self or that I was not pursuing my own dreams apart from my husband.There was a reverberating noise that had me quaking inside. This strange feeling was separate from the aches I had from having lost my husband. As I thought back on my life with Chuck, I felt I had reached the point where I was beginning to feel that our lives had become humdrum, routine and boring. The ordinariness of our life together lacked the excitement and adventure that I craved but I didn’t know it at the time.I must’ve been experiencing a midlife crisis, but I put a lid on those feelings hoping that they would go away.

When Chuck passed and as I explored the many options I had for my life alone, I kept coming back to the things that had once excited me, gave me purpose and whet my creative juices. Soon I began to redecorate my home in new ways, bringing in more modern elements while discarding many of the things from my old life with Chuck. I had curated Chuck’s belongings which were now stored, given way, or incorporated into my new life without him. It took a moment for me to realize that I no longer had to respect another’s opinions about the way I would be in my life, or how I was changing my home or where I would travel next. I just had myself to consult and only me to answer to.

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Soon, I realized that I wanted to put my thoughts down on paper so I began to write. I’d always written even as a child, poems and stories, and as an adult I had produced 2 cable TV shows and as a freelancer had written several fashion and restaurant reviews for local newspapers.The difference now was that I felt what I had to say was important. I wanted to express how I felt about my grieving experience, and I wanted to comfort and support others with their losses.

My grief journey connected me to my spirit and I became more in tuned with what it was that I wanted, needed, out of my life. I soon began to feel more engaged with life and it was more than a cathartic experience; it was as if I’d burst out of a bottle and into an HD life full of new ideas and ways of being alive.

After years of marriage a couple can hit a wall – it can happen after five, seven, 15, 20, or 30 years. All of a sudden one or both may question “if this is all there is”. The routine of one’s life, the banality of it can sometimes leave one or both feeling as though “something is missing”.

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For me,finding the missing pieces became the start of my new beginning, getting back to my artistic roots writing, being creative, while not having to consider another’s opinion. It happened that my answers came after my husband was gone and this was the catalyst for my evolution as I began to explore my life in new ways, uncovering my desires and needs apart from anyone else.

When you feel rumblings in your spirit, it doesn’t mean that you want to disconnect from or leave your marriage, but it’s a good idea to address what is tugging at your spirit. You may find that you might need to step back from your daily routine and do some soul searching for a while.Those rumblings when addressed are what help us to grow. It means that a change has to occur in the way one thinks or does things.If this does not occur voluntarily then it will be forced upon you.

Remember life is not meant to be stagnant. Change is a neccesary part of life, it is what adds depth, texture,meaning and color to being alive.

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Although I couldn’t figure out exactly what was going on when I felt these longings and desires for that “something that was missing”, while Chuck was alive, it was when I was alone that I was able to dispense with my daily routine of over 20 years and listen to what my spirit was trying to tell me.I eventually got back to being my creative self by writing, sewing, changing my home around and designing a new life for me.

When we are able to understand what is going on within us, we will begin to feel in harmony with life. It’s a good idea to take the time to listen to what your spirit wants you to know. I was able to let my spirit be the driving force of my new existence, as a woman and as a widow. It took me in a creative direction that ultimately healed me and helped me to heal others.

Who knows what my spirit would have told me had my husband continued to live.Who knows if I would’ve even listened. But either way the key to my happiness was to address the yanking of my spirit and not ignore it as it would lead me in the direction that I needed to go, which ultimately would better serve me, the higher good of my soul and all whom I reach out to help.

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Read more about how to get through the pain of the loss of a spouse Brave in a New World: A Guide to Grieving the Loss of a Spouse available on Amazon, and Lulu


Finding Joy… Again and Again

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I believe that being happy is not so far-fetched.My husband Chuck was a contented, balanced human being, however, I would never characterize him as happy. He had moments where he was happy but they were few and far between.He gained great satisfaction from positive events in his life, but I rarely, if ever, saw him giddy or ecstatic with joy. He did, however, possess a good temperament and a sweet nature, although his gallows humor could be a little tough to get used to.But that was my Chuck,not perfect,but then neither was I (although I told him I was and he believed me).

Chuck was a man’s man, tough but also kindhearted. For example, there was the time he came home and announced that a neighbor of ours, who I knew only in passing,would be joining us for Thanksgiving dinner.I was surprised that he had invited a stranger (Chuck was not a fan of strangers) into our home for dinner. He went on to explain that the man had told him that he would be spending Thanksgiving alone, and Chuck was not hearing it. It was fine with me, my motto being the more the merrier. When Thanksgiving arrived Frank did not show up. A few months into the next year, Frank passed away from cancer.I did see him before this happened and told him we had missed him that day, it was then that he revealed details of his illness. He said he really appreciated the invitation and had every intention of coming but had been blindsided by his illness.

My husband Chuck loved to teach and advise anyone who sought his counsel, and many, many did. He would impart pearls of wisdom, with the hope that all those he taught would go forth and live successful and fruitful lives. Financial security and independence were very important to him and he felt that this was one of the keys to building a solid foundation for living a successful and productive life. Chuck would love it when those who had been the recipients of his advice would come back to him and share outcomes that were positive and successful. He felt pride in the fact that he was able to teach others the building blocks for laying the groundwork for creating a fruitful life, from his perspective. He did not necessarily feel happiness, but more a sense of gratification and satisfaction.Chuck was practical,a realist and very pragmatic….black and white no gray.

I, on the other hand, have always been an optimist, even under the most dire of circumstances. I rarely lose hope and always try to connect to my joy. I was and still am, a Pollyanna of sorts. It’s how I’m wired…who I am. Chuck and I were complete opposites in that way.

Although I’m not happy all the time, the happy experiences that I have had have always left me with a feeling of overwhelming joy and and at times exhilaration. I grew up in a family that expressed,unabashedly,feelings of happiness when the situation called for it. We all became giddy with excitement and I just thought that was the norm for everybody when they experienced great pleasure or good news. But I would soon learn that not all people are comfortable with expressing emotions, particularly feelings of joy or sorrow.

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After Chuck passed away my soul became dead, numb. Happiness became a foreign emotion I could no longer access. Even as I began to slowly recover, I found I had lost the ability to “feel” joy. I would soon become satisfied with just being able to put one foot in front of the other and make it through each new day. I felt as though I would never feel happiness again. In those early days of my mourning, I recalled a line from one of Langston Hughes’ poems, ‘life ain’t been no crystal stair’,which reminded me that life is not always going to be filled with good news. Many experiences that people have are full of pain, sorrow and suffering. For some,the pain of whatever is daily, relentless.  I would soon sink into the depths of depression, which is very different from just feeling sad. I felt as if I was sinking into an abyss of hopelessness and despair and  thought that this was going to be my “new normal”….that this new state of my being would have to be okay. So, I settled in for the day-to-day grief, with expectations of no end to the pain in sight.

Many,many months later, years really, I would slowly begin to long to feel joy in my life again. As time wore on and I became more engaged in life again, I began to notice that I had entered a new stage in my grief recovery and that being able to feel joy again might actually be a possibility.

I do believe that being able to feel joy has to do with how we were raised, our life experiences and how we internalize and eventually manifest our emotions. In life, we can’t prevent those random interruptions that can cause trauma and turmoil and change the course of our lives, but we can intentionally dwell on good ideas and thoughts and strive to live our lives in accordance with those thoughts. One’s emotional state of well being and positive responses can rub off on others, and inspire those around us to also begin to believe that happy is not so far-fetched. Sometimes that doesn’t always work and others may remain remote, morose, and stoic, but we, who are the optimists, must continue to stay true to who we are and try to avoid being dragged down into another person’s emotional response to situations that are good and positive…like quicksand. Some folks are simply joy killers and although we may not be able to change who they are we do not want them to change who we are either. 

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Of course we may not be happy everyday, but we will experience periodic satisfaction and contentment and that is more than we could ever hope for as we live and face life’s challenges. In life there are highs and lows, and as we get older we will find that having a great thing happen one week and a sad thing happen the next increases in frequency.

When we grieve, we will eventually one day feel a little change take place. Something will make us laugh again and eventually we will experience a shift until we are feeling like our “new self”, unlike our old self. Along with this new self-awareness will also be the acknowledgment that we’re beginning to see a light at the end of the tunnel of grief.The goal is to one day become immersed in that metaphorical light. Soon we will also realize that we’re feeling less grim and more optimistic about where we are in our lives. We will begin to appreciate the path we’ve been on and how far we’ve come.

Remember, as written by William Ernst Henley in Invictus, and one of my husband’s most favorite quotes,we are “the captains of our own ship, the masters of our own fates and our thoughts and feelings are our destiny”. After loss, do not be afraid to feel better again. You will not be betraying your lost loved one and you will actually be being true to who you are: a human being who is still here. Don’t give up on life as it will never give up on you.

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To read more about my grief journey and how you can  navigate yours read Brave in a New World: A Guide to Grieving the Loss of a Spouse, available on

Please feel free to write a review  of my book on Amazon and thank you for your continued support of my efforts to help others to heal after loss.

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