November 24th, 2012

“Everyone wanted me to get help and rejoin life, pick up the pieces and move on, and I tried to, I wanted to, but I just had to lie in the mud with my arms wrapped around myself, eyes closed, grieving, until I didn’t have to anymore.” ~ Anne Lamott

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  1. Grief does not follow any logic.  I was surprised to find myself thrown back into grief after a traumatic accident that forced me to face some of the more painful issues of illness and dependency on loved ones.  We must find support no matter the occasion or cause of emotional exposure.

  2. ian says:

    Well said Cynthia, and good thoughts to you.

  3. Virginia Urbach says:

    I am still grieving for my husband, but it doesn’t consume me as it did in the beginning. You, Ian have helped me as well as a few other helpful Souls.  So, in deep gratitude, God has been with me all along my path to help me heal and put you in that path.  Thank you Soulseeds!

  4. Mary Cuncannan says:

    It will be a year Nov. 27th that I found my beautiful youngest son in his bedroom having died due to an accidental overdose of prescription drugs. The little picture above is so true. I had thought that grief would follow those stages that we read about. It doesn’t. It jumps around to any of those stages all the time. The one stage I do think I’m coming out of is the stage of shock. I can now have the thought come into my mind that my son is no longer physically here, and it doesn’t take my breath away with shock like it did for so many months. I am in that mud that Anne Lamott writes about. The hard work of grieving has taught me that I can’t heal my heart unless I sit with my completely broken open self in the mud, feel the unspeakable pain of immense loss and simply love myself through it with help if I need it. Nobody can speed this journey up for me. My Higher Power and I are in charge of that. The best people can do for me is to simply say, “I’m here for you.” Luckily, I have angels here on the planet with me who have been here for me from day one. Some of your Sunday topics, Ian, have helped me on this rough road over the past year and I want to thank you for that. It felt like divine intervention every time because it was just what I needed to hear that day!

  5. ian says:

    hi Mary, wow, I had no idea. You are SO courageous to stay open to your pain and healing. Please add me to the list of people who are here for you in any way that is helpful. Much love and many good thoughts.

  6. Kath says:

    I found grief to be very labile.  There are moments of ease and peace followed by despair and such sadness that tears are relief.  And this happens in the course of an afternoon, a morning, an evening.  My husband moved across the country five months ago.  He’s not dead.  But my entire life has changed so enormously and drastically.  I feel like I spend part of every day in a kind of limbo, not knowing what I want or do not want.  When fear rears its head, I can convince myself to believe drastic doings are required.  But really, not knowing is best.  I will know when I know.  The fire has not gone out but it has gone deep.  Change is here, my constant companion, but I do not know where it will lead.  

  7. ian says:

    Good thoughts Kath. You sound like you are handling it in a very healthy way.

  8. Kath says:

    That is encouraging to hear.

  9. Lauren says:

    I’ve always loved Anne Lammott. She has the perfect way of saying things. I lost my mom nearly 3 years, and most of the time I’m crushed by te thought of the finality. She was my best friend. I was recently in a bad car accident and the grief was just flooding. It has been with nightmares. This is a great site. 

  10. ian says:

    thx Lauren. Be kind to yourself. You’re not alone.

  11. Lauren says:

    Thanks Ian, 
    That means a lot.  Grief can feel so isolating. 

  12. joan says:

    my mother died after a long fight with cancer. its been a year and a half and some days the grief is unbareable. everyone grives in their own way. you dont just grieve and get over it its always there. i miss her so much,and i always will.

  13. diana says:

    i saw this posted on a friend’s fb site and it made me smile.  I smiled because I am somewhere in the midst of the tangle of grief and it seemed hopeful that at some point i may even back out again.  i cant see that yet, but i am hopeful that it is in my future.

  14. El says:

    Reading quotes like this helps so much, to affirm that I am not crazy or ‘doing it wrong’. Our first son was stillborn in August 2010 and when our second son arrived safe in October 2012 it was like we should be magically over it.There is no over, or better. There is time and acceptance (though I will never fully accept Thomas’ death, never not long for him and miss him), it’s more acceptance of a new life, a new me. A different perspective to everything. Losing a child doesn’t just affect one part of your life, it’s active in every part. How you deal with the small and big things, how your friends and family treat you. The people you lose, the people you find. The huge downs, the minor highs. Looking in the mirror and hating the who you see, learning to love her again. Not only the grief of losing your baby, but the grief of losing yourself and everything you thought you were and could become.Three and half years down the track and I’m still mostly squiggly lines, the only difference is I have to hide it now. No one has the time for your grief in the long term. They don’t want to hear about the daily struggle.They’re so happy to see you return to work and going out because it’s easier for them, they think you’re ‘over’ it and you admitting you still grieve affects their life and it’s confronting.Our second son is a joy and the most perfectly amazing part of my life, his is a life twice cherished and though he will never replace his brother he takes up places left empty. He is hope and belief and ultimately salvation. He is the straight parts of my life.Thanks for reading, I guess that needed saying.

  15. Pam says:

    My best friend posted this to my wall. Grief is exactly like the image. I found my 24 yr old son in his bedroom 7 months ago after having  shot himself in the head with a high powered rifle. I will not describe exactly what I saw, as it would be painful even to a stranger. Grief has its own path and we must follow that path if we can ever even try to heal. We must do and feel what it tells us. God bless each of us on our individual journey. We are all Brothers and Sisters in sorrow. Pam

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