Good Grief

As I remember him / He had a gentle way / And if you knew him you would understand just why / As I remember him / I cry.

During my nursing student days at Case Western Reserve University I was fortunate to hear Elizabeth Kubler-Ross lecture twice.  This was at the top of her 15 minutes of fame as the author of Death and Dying, a book most of us are now familiar with.  It opened the closet door to dialogue about a subject that had rarely been voiced in our culture.  The first night she spoke on the death of children at a packed church.  The second lecture was on campus at the school of medicine where Kubler-Ross actually interviewed dying patients including the parents of a toddler with a terminal illness.  It was very apparent from the onset that the mother was in the stage of anger and the father was holding it together simply because he had to.  I was sitting next to a young doctor, maybe a med student, who made a critical comment about the mother to the doctor on his other side.  I snapped at him; told him that she wasn’t there to make friends.  Whoa, where did that come from?

I suspect, looking back, that he was uncomfortable with her anger and even with the topic of death and dying.  Doctors, after all, are there to save people from dying.  They just keep taking their pills and paying their bills.  Some times when good, caring people ask me how I’m doing, I feel they need my reassurance to make them more comfortable.  Others want to rescue me from my grief; save me from the pain, give me advice.  How do I tell them that I don’t want to be rescued?  Would they understand?

And though I loved the boy for just a little while / It was so wonderful, it was so beautiful / As I remember him/ I smile.  (As I Remember Him written by Portia Nelson and sung oh so beautifully by Nancy La Mott on Youtube.)

Roses in January — Where Do I Start?

My leg collapsed on me a short while back.  Two doctors and an ultrasound later, the diagnosis was DVT or deep vein thrombosis (clot).  DVTs are potentially life-threatening but the doctor assured that my clot was small and with immediate treatment could be safely eliminated.  I’ve not written before about my background in biofield therapy or energy medicine but I’ve been an instructor in the worldwide Healing Touch program for close to a quarter of a century.  In energy medicine we learn to look at both the physical and metaphysical causes of imbalances in the body.  Thus, I set aside some time to explore this clotting condition and just like fitting together the pieces of a puzzle, a picture emerged.

To begin: my leg collapsed leaving me unable to stand on my own two feet.  With the energetic assistance of a good friend who serendipitously arrived at my front door shortly after the collapse, she pulled the excruciating pain off my leg and foot so that I could then touch my foot to the floor.  I still could not bear weight.  I could not bear it!   As soon as it could be arranged I saw a doctor, an orthopedic physician whom I’d seen in the past.  Althought I had filled out all the forms, checking that I was diabetic (does anyone read those forms?), I was not told that the cortisone shot would send my blood sugar sky high.  It did!  A friend alerted me to that side effect.  My inner physician kept nagging me about the possibility of a DVT.  I called and asked if I’d been checked for a DVT.  No, they didn’t do that there; it required an ultrasound.  I was given the number of the Vascular Clinic.  But, of course, I needed an order to be seen there so I called back again and the orthopedic service sent over an order.  Whew!  This story is ongoing but the point is, I wasn’t taken care of by the health profession.  I had to assertively advocate for myself.  I had to stand on my own two feet and advocate for myself. 

Louise Hay writes that clotting is the equivalent of closing down the flow of joy.  Debbie Shapiro writes that if you are having issues with your blood, then ask yourself the following question: has the circulation of love in your life undergone a recent change, such as a separation or loss?  Indeed!

Yesterday was our 55th wedding anniversary.  After more than a half century together, death feels like an energetic amputation.

Where do you start / How do you separate the present from the past / How do you deal with all the things you thought would last / That didn’t last / With bits of memories scattered here and there / I look around and don’t know where to start / Where do you start / Do you allow yourself a little time to cry / Or do you close your eyes and kiss it all goodbye / I guess you try.  (Songwriters: Johnny Mandel, Alan Bergman, Marilyn Bergman.)

RUMI

How marvelous the way you quit the world!

The way you ruffled your feathers, and,

breaking free of your cage,

you took off for your soul’s world.

A love-sick nightingale among owls,

You caught the scent of roses,

and flew to the rose garden.

 

Roses in January — The Big Transition

We held the Rose Man’s memorial service three weeks ago.  It was truly beautiful, exceeding my expectations.  It meant so much to me to have the Interfaith Amigos (see them on Youtube) facilitate the service, each bringing comfort in words from their rich traditions and then reading memories from the Rose Man’s family.  Sister, Nancy, bravely began the readings in her own voice, inspiring me to read mine.  I couldn’t do it today.  Somehow, someway, I put a brake on all the tears that day.  It was a joyful celebration.  Today I cry — at everything.  And if one more person tells me that it’s okay to cry, I’ll ——————————————————————————————CRY!   A film of the Rose Man’s life that his grandchildren put together with their computer competency was shown after the service and completed an all-round picture of a life well-lived, a man well-loved.

One of these days I will compile the readings, the obituary, and comments from the many, many beautiful cards to give to my family, along with a few pressed roses.  Meanwhile, I continue to welcome the loving distractions provided by my friends, family, and neighbors.  Thinking of a delightful lunch with one of the Good Enuf’ Girls at a favorite Greek restaurant in Magnolia Village.  We then followed our pattern of browsing one of the few existing small bookstores before concluding with a Starbucks and more great conversation. 

Thanks to my new friends in India, Rohit and Davinder, who got my computer up and running again.