Holiday stages

*I wrote this original post in December 2009.  I find that as we move into the winter holidays, practically everyone that I speak with wrestles with some form of sadness. I thought it would be appropriate to revisit this post, as it helped many people when it was first published.*

From the title of this blog post, you may be expecting a happy story about a Christmas event or pageant, children on stage singing or dancing.  Instead, what you'll be reading about is dealing with grief during the holiday season.

It is a proven fact that around religious holidays, be it Christmas,  Hanukkah, Easter, etc., there is an increase in mortality rates.  The concept of mortality rates can be traced as far back into history as Babylonian times and the rule of King Hammurabi.  In our modern times, this translates into insurance companies creating their mortality charts.  As this became standard practice, there became occasional note in media that death rates increase around significant religious holidays.

Think for a moment, and doubtless, either you or someone you know has lost a beloved family member or friend around a religious holiday.  I fall into this category, having lost the person I consider to be my strongest father figure.  He was my Uncle, my Mom's eldest brother, the patriarch of our clan.  Several years ago, he passed from this life on Christmas Eve morning after a lengthy, brave battle with debilitating illness.  As the Christmas holidays draw near, I find, despite my best intentions, there are definitely moments of melancholy that visit my heart.  Small wonder that if I feel these moments, the rest of the world might be visited by similar feelings in relation to their own personal losses.

There are many schools of thought about reasons that so many souls choose a religious holiday as the time to release from their physical body and pass from this reality.  My own thoughts on this topic are very personal, with one of the thoughts being that our Souls recognize an increased energy around high holy days.  I have always thought that this increased energy might facilitate an individual in making the choice to release from their physical body.  The reasons are myriad, the theories about this are endless, and at the end of the day, they probably don't matter beyond the ability to comfort us in the midst of painful, sad moments.

I have no mysterious remedy for this, other than to give it voice.  We are all very accustomed to slapping on that bright, cheerful social mask to cover our roiling emotions.  It's the holiday season (or whatever other particular moment in life where sad memories surface), be happy, upbeat and positive!!!  Don't be sad about the loss of a loved one, for fear you might drag everyone else down around you!!  Right?!  We all feel obligated to project that facade so that we don't make others uncomfortable or sad right along with us.  It is obvious that this tendency to stuff down our emotions around significant holidays and/or anniversaries of losing a loved one makes dealing with these significant dates that much more challenging.  When, and why did we as a collective society decide that it makes more sense to paste a happy smile on our faces than to honor our true emotions? 

Strong emotions, especially those connected to loss, do make most people uncomfortable.  It hits too closely to home for everyone; if you're mourning the death of a loved one and you present those emotions outwardly, that in turn can trigger buried emotions in others.  It's just a human response, this triggering of fears and resistance, and the need to cover everything up with a neat, tidy, happy facade.  Another truth is that most of us don't deal with significant loss immediately and instantly. 

Most of us are familiar with the five stages of grief.  They are as follows:

1. Denial
2. Anger
3. Bargaining
4. Depression
5. Acceptance

Each person and each situation, each loss, is different regarding the manner in which these stages are processed.  For some, although I would think this is rare, the five stages are processed quickly and dealt with in a short amount of linear time.  For others, the process can take much longer, sometimes years.  Another point to make is that even after we have navigated our way through those stages, they can boomerang on us and creep back in unexpectedly, years later.  Anniversaries of loss are strong triggers.  What has always frustrated me is the medical mindset that after making our way through those five stages once, then it is all said and done, all bound up in an orderly bundle, case closed and door shut permanently.  I strongly disagree with that mindset.

Christmas, Hanukkah and the New Year, altogether, present a time when family and friendship is our focus, so of course sadness will lurk beneath the surface as we have wistful moments, missing those no longer here with us physically.  It is, therefore, not surprising that we'll sometimes feel sucker punched with sad moments.
 
Dealing with sad anniversaries is never easy.  What works for me might not work for you, but I can share my own process.  When I begin to feel those sad moments creeping in, the most important step that I take is to recognize it for what it is.  Life can be so hectic around the Christmas season that we don't pay enough attention to how we're honestly feeling.  We'll rush from one obligation and social function to the next, pushing the sad, bad, confused or angry emotions down until they finally expand and explode.  So, for my own mental and emotional health, I find it of paramount importance to stop and identify what I'm feeling.  It doesn't always come readily to mind for me either, because of course it's much easier to deny sadness and instead label it as being tired or grumpy or something much easier to ignore.

What I have learned over the years is that embracing the seemingly negative emotions does not equal failure of any type on a personal level.  The true failure, I feel, comes from denying what we feel and never allowing it to have enough of a voice for it to be processed.  So, I take time to look inward.  It isn't always pleasant, or easy, and rarely is it enjoyable.  It is, above all, vitally important.  I feel that in a way, it is a moment of Grace and tribute, when I stop, identify the reason for those melancholy moments and let myself feel what comes from within.  Grace, because I am honoring myself when I allow myself to grieve.  Tribute, because in recognizing these feelings, it gives me a moment to remember the person I loved deeply.  When I do open up to myself, the memories that I embrace are inexorably entwined with all the reasons I loved that person.  So, yes, sadness will be felt.  Many times the result is tears. Eventually, though, happier memories will also flood my mind and in a different manner, I will go through those five stages of grief all over again before coming to that moment of acceptance.

The inescapable truth is that when we lose someone we love, it is a life sentence.  We spend the rest of our lives learning how to cope, manage our lives and live without that person's physical presence.  That's the challenging part.  Just when we think we're doing really well, a holiday or anniversary will approach and cut us off at the knees.  Psychologists developed the five stages of grief to identify what we are feeling and where we are in relation to dealing with personal loss.  From that perspective, the concept is valid, but I honestly feel that it doesn't come to a definitive, full stop, ever.  I am not saying that we exist in sharp, raw grief permanently, nor would I suggest such a thing is healthy or prudent.  What I am trying to point out is that we do experience layers of grief, sadness and loss in sometimes unexpected ways at different times, for various reasons. As a result, we experience a micro-moment, often repeatedly, of those five stages.

In light of this, I think that kindness would be the word of the day. If you can step back from everything else that requires your attention and focus your attention on You, compassion and understanding are what you deserve when you are confronted with those unexpected holiday triggers, layers and stages of sadness.  You deserve kindness, and a few quiet moments to look clearly at what you are feeling.  Give it voice, allow yourself to feel, to remember, to cry; perhaps smile or laugh.  Then, when you feel ready, you will be able to gently tuck the memories back into a corner of your heart and mind that will allow you to move forward with strength, rather than sapping you of energy and enjoyment of the holiday season.  Remind yourself that these feelings will surface again, and recognize that this time, by embracing the moment with Grace and acceptance, you will possibly be able to achieve a more solid balance.

Talking about it with family or friends might be an integral part of this process; there are no hard and fast rules here.  Do what works best and feels right for you.  In talking with others, you may be surprised to find that you've opened the door up for them as well, to do some processing, sharing and healing of their own.

In closing, I wrestled with myself about posting this blog.  It is a highly personal and volatile subject, and perhaps not one many will want to contemplate in the midst of the holiday season. I was feeling sadness as the calendar approaches a personal anniversary date of loss, and for me, writing out the emotions and giving them voice was helpful and healing. I have no idea if what I have written and shared will be of a helpful nature to others, but I am going ahead with posting it.  Perhaps these words and thoughts will resonate with others out there and bring a moment of clarity and peace to their hearts as they realize they are not alone with what they are feeling.  Maybe the simple suggestion that yes, you will go through repeated, myriad experiences of those five stages will be a moment of epiphany for someone out there, allowing them to embrace kindness towards themselves as they process through that most current incarnation. 

If you have stayed with me through to the culmination of this particular post, whether it clicked with you on a personal level or not, you have my appreciation for spending time with me as I navigated through my own five holiday stages.  As a result, my heart is lighter and I have been able to move forward with a gladdened spirit to enjoy my Christmas.  Blessings to you all, this year, this holiday season.

Grief path

Photo courtesy of
Bing images

Recently, my friend Lisa Brandel invited me to write a guest post for her blog, The Widow Lady.  My answer was an immediate and resounding "Yes!" because she's one of my favorite people.  It took me a while to settle on a topic and focus for the guest post, but now I'm ready to dig in.  Lisa's blog, as many of you who follow her know, focuses on dealing with the loss of a spouse, grief and the whole recovery process.  While I am no stranger to grief and loss, I haven't lost a spouse.  So I tucked the guest post invitation aside and waited.  Inspiration struck in a somewhat different application of grief.

Another friend recently had to bid farewell to a plot of land that had been in her family for many, many years.  To some, this might not strike as a reason for grief.  To me, it hit home profoundly.  I am from a tiny community in East Tennessee that is so small we've only had a stop light at our one major intersection for about 10 years.  My childhood home is land that is up on the side of a ridge, tucked away and so obscure on back roads that you have to know it's there to know it's there!  It is peaceful, quiet and to my eyes, beautiful beyond words.

There has been a lot of noise about a road plan that could end up running right over the top of this property, with the state of Tennessee being able to declare Eminent Domain and force us to sell the land.  While I admit this has been going on since the mid-1990s with no true progress, just the thought of this possibly happening is enough to strike dread and fear into my heart.  I am bound to that land and have always dreamed of building a home there.

My friend who had to bid farewell to her family land is going through a grieving process that hurts my heart for her.  I won't go into specific details on the reasons the land was sold, but I know she has endless childhood memories of that land.  Endless days of playing in the woods, exploring, creating fantastic games of fantasy.  Hot summer days of gardening, weeding plants as the sun blazed down.  Balmy evenings lying under the trees watching lightning bugs twinkling as the evening shadows painted sunset across the sky.  I imagine she can tell stories about every tree, every woodland path, every field, stream and wildflower patch. 

She was fortunate to be able to have enough notice to say some proper goodbyes prior to the final sale of the property.  She walked the land, taking pictures of everything that held memories for her, and whispered her goodbyes.  I know she cried throughout the whole day, as this is what I would do and feel myself.  She was raised out in the country, as I was, and taught an appreciation for the land that goes very deep.  Some people might not appreciate or understand this, and that's okay.  It may be unique to me and this friend, or perhaps each of you reading this are nodding your heads in agreement and feeling a sympathetic sting of tears and sadness for what this girlfriend experienced. 

No, land is not a person.  It doesn't die, per se.  But it does Live.  It is a living, breathing, nurturing presence.  Calm, quiet...patient as the ages, land harbors us without protest, allowing us to trample, to build, to grow.  That plot of land out in the country of East Tennessee harbored my girlfriend and her family with love, of this I'm certain.  I feel it entirely appropriate and logical that my friend is grieving the loss of her childhood sanctuary.  I know that she is going through those stages of grief as surely as she would if it were a person she was bidding farewell to.  Losing family land is one of the most intimate losses I can imagine, and I wish with all my heart that she had never had to experience this. 

I found myself smiling at her Facebook descriptions of walking the land, photographing everything she could think of, down to pebbles scattered across a dirt road.  Yes, I would do that too.  I hope that she has enough photographs taken that somewhat soothe that empty spot in her heart for that land.  She will always yearn for the opportunity to drive out there and roam the land on a whim.  She will always remember the happy times in her mind's eye.  Nothing, however, will give her back that special connection to that land. 

The key to the grief process, for me, is to accept that change is inevitable.  We are left with no choice but to find a way to keep living without that vital presence that we once had.  Be it a person, or a place, it hurts on a visceral level to say a permanent goodbye.  There are no easy ways, no short cuts to the journey of healing the loss.  For me, some losses are years old and I still experience moments of loss that are so sharp it is as though it happened only hours ago.  Yes, time does heal and soften those jagged edges.  We go on.  We are forever changed from the loss, and sometimes not always in positive ways, but we do go on. 

Is the loss of family land worthy of a blog post?  I think it is.  I recognize the gravity and emotion of such an event, and part of my heart just broke for my friend who had to walk that path of loss.  I don't know what the sale of her land will produce.  I hope that perhaps other families will build homes there and grace the land with laughter and love.  Perhaps in that small way, the loss would be a bit more bearable for her.  Should the reason be for another type of commerce, then all I can hope is that she finds solace in her memories and photographs.  The land will not die a true death, of course.  Land is a constant.  It morphs and changes over time with construction and becomes something new. 

So, as is the case for most of us with personal loss, my friend will tuck the memories away in her heart and mind's eye.  She will reminisce with family members about this tree, or that rock, or that field and for short moments, they will be back there again, awash in the security and golden haze of childhood.  I hope that in some small way those moments will ease and soothe her.

*Special thanks to Lisa Brandel for inviting me to share my thoughts on her wonderful blog, The Widow Lady.  I hope many of you will take a moment to visit her blog and read her work.

The Great Hug Debate

Hugging - Webster's Dictionary tells us that this is a transition verb, most likely of Scandinavian origin, deriving from the Old Norse word "hugga" (to soothe) with the modern day definition being to:

1. press tightly to
2. hold fast
3. stay close to

Okay, so we have the definition.  We all know what a hug is.  The interesting thing to me is how different people perceive the act of hugging.  How about you?  Are you an enthusiastic hugger?  Do you embrace others joyfully with both arms circling for a nice, long squeeze?  Or are you a hug avoider - one of those people who half-heartedly pats others on the back with one arm only, your torso angling away, the whole while sidling awkwardly and quickly out of reach?

As with most expressions of affection, there is no right or wrong answer.  Some of how you view the act of hugging has to do with the environment surrounding your formative years.  My very earliest memories are of my own family - a huge, very closely knit clan - being of the enthusiastic hugger variety.  This, in fact, wasn't always the case, and I didn't learn this until perhaps 15 years ago.  In a random conversation at one of our numerous family reunions (we have a lot of those), an Aunt commented on how much we do hug, and also commented that, "It wasn't always like that though - what made it change and the hugging get started?"  I remember my Mom answering, quite bluntly, "It was when we had all those people pass away so abruptly within such a short span of time."  That was a sobering realization, but also an uplifting one.

photo:  www.sarahrhoades.com

My Mom was talking about a two or three year span in the early 1970's where we lost a series of very dear family members - a Great Aunt, a Mother/Grandmother, an Aunt, and an Uncle.  My Mom is one of 9 siblings, so we are a huge group of people.  This means that death isn't an unknown element and some of these family members had lived long, full lives.  Two others were younger than I am today when they passed with very little warning.  I have no idea who began the practice of hugging during this time period, but it became part of our family ritual and happened when I was so wee that I don't remember life without hugs as a daily occurrence. 

What I feel is noteworthy in regard to my family is that we chose, collectively, to weather a series of tragic losses by growing closer, embracing both literally and figuratively, the ones still living.  The reverse could so easily have happened, with our family fracturing and growing apart.  I am happy to say that we chose the more positive path and this gave all of us an immensely strong foundation from which to draw upon.  I've often been known to state that hugs should be a form of world currency, and as corny and rose-colored glasses mindset as it sounds, I think hugs make us better people. Perhaps, in some small way, if anyone who knows me has always wondered at my enthusiastic hugging, this gives a small window into the birth of this tendency in me.

On a health benefits basis, hugs DO make a difference.  They have been scientifically proven to lower blood pressure and heart rate, thus reducing heart disease.  People who hug more frequently tend to be more open about their emotions and develop a greater sense of closeness and compassion to those around them.  Hugs have also been shown to improve overall mood, increase nerve activity and release the hormone oxytocin - this is the "love bonding" hormone that allows new parents, male and female alike, to bond with their babies. Hugging even helps to ease symptoms of insomnia and calms erratic brain waves. I could list many more benefits of hugging, but these alone are impressive.  Dare I suggest this could be called a true miracle application in a holistic health approach?

Several sources suggest that everyone needs at least four hugs a day for healthy survival, eight hugs a day for emotional strength, and 12 hugs a day to really grow and be empowered. Stop and think about just how often you give or get a hug.

It seems to be more common - and this isn't a gender bashing comment here - that men are less comfortable with hugging than women are.  In fact, this whole topic was sparked by a good natured debate on Facebook w/ a good male friend of mine.  He finally just suggested I write a blog, and the rest is history...you're reading the result.  What do you feel is the reason for the Great Divide between genders regarding hugging?  Do you, personally, enjoy hugging, or do you dread it?  Do you hug with ease or dread the mere mention of the word, let alone the actual act of giving or receiving a hug?  I find this to be an interesting topic, and certainly one deserving of endless discussion.

I am a fan of hugging, for those of you who are curious, but perhaps you already got that from reading about my family history above.  In my personal world, with family, when we come together, hugs are the natural greeting and the same is true for when we depart from one anothers' presence.  I hug close friends with equal fervor - to me, it is a way of expressing genuine care, love, reassurance, beyond just being a happy greeting.  I feel that hugs matter, greatly.  This is my personal stance on The Great Hug Debate.  What's yours?

Heroes among us

I just learned that a man I went to high school with lost his son yesterday, October 19, 2009 as a result of active military duty. I do not have specific details as to where or how. The most simple statement is this - a bright young man gave his life in a far away place to uphold the tenets upon which this country was founded. His family is grieving in a manner those of us who have not lost a family member in this specific way cannot fathom.

I cannot pretend to understand what they are going through, nor am I so presumptuous as to think that a few written words will make a dent in their sadness. All I can say is that for me, the world stopped for a quiet, painful moment when I heard this news. I did not know this young man. I knew his father in high school, so the connection is tenuous at best. That being said, I would find it doubtful that anyone can remain untouched by the news that a young man gave his life in dedicated service to his country. This is not a time to air political opinions, to cast blame or to debate what is right or wrong. It is a time to come together in support of this family.

I ask everyone who reads this blog to take a moment to hold all military men and women, and their families, in your thoughts and prayers. We lose so many bright and wonderful people each and everyday in the active arena.

This young man's name is Jonathon Miller and he hailed from Clinton, Tennessee. In my eyes and, I am positive, the eyes of his family and friends, he is a true Hero. God rest him and those he left behind.