July 26th, 2010
I took my beloved Phoenix to the vet this morning. He was due for his annual check-up. He’s fourteen – a handsome blue-eyed Siamese seal point and looks in the peak of health – skin, teeth, ears, fur – all beautiful!
The vet probed around his soft and supple body and found that his kidneys are a bit smaller, and he’s lost a half pound of his thirteen pounds since last year. Not major problems, she reported, but he is geriatric and things start to happen. She recommended a special blood screen and will report the results in the next few days.
Struck by the realization that Phoenix is mortal, my thoughts start racing toward my own mortality. While I readily accept that I will die, the thought of losing my cats is unbearable. I have many childhood memories of cats getting fatally sick, running away, or having to give them away. My reactions? Hysteria, uncontrollable bawling, and intense grief.
Phoenix is my roommate, companion, my “baby”, and gives me and his younger brother, Sedona, unequivocal love. All pets, whether they are a dog, bunny, ferret, guinea pig, parrot or parakeet — enrich our lives in so many ways. Let’s value every day they bless our homes and our hearts.
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July 11th, 2010
Last weekend, I attended a wedding in Asheville, NC. It was for the daughter of my first cousin, Lenore, who has lived there for thirty years. It was a very happy wedding – aren’t they all? – but especially because it was also a reunion with Lenore after more than fifty years! Why hadn’t we seen each other before now?
When my father died, his older sister and brother were heartbroken. Each had to make a choice about staying in touch with his young widow and their two children, my brother and me . My Aunt B. chose to keep us in her family’s life, and she remained my primary connection to my father until her death at 93. My Uncle H. made a different choice. He was so devastated that rhe way he coped was to stop talking about his brother and put away all memories of him – including his two children. We never heard from him and his family again.
Aunt B’s son, Steve, my first cousin, has carried on this connection, and also continued his relationship with Uncle H’s family, including Lenore. Now that all of our parents have died, he is the family historian. He re-connected Lenore and me several years ago.
My story illustrates how losing a loved one becomes a lifelong loss. I lost not only my father, but also part of my family. Lenore also experienced the loss of part of her family.
Although we grieved for the fifty years of time we didn’t share, we both felt grateful for reviving our connection. Our family is whole again.
Do you have a story of family loss that has affected your life forever?
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July 7th, 2010
The tragedy of the BP oil spill in the Gulf continues to be on the minds of many Americans. This man-made disaster has challenged the families and businesses whose lives have been disrupted to face their fears of losing everything they have valued – their livelihoods, their homes and businesses, their unique and beautiful natural environment, and life as they have known it for generations.
I have experienced being laid off several times in my career. I had to figure out what to do next – often making painful choices to find a less lucrative job or move to a place I didn’t want to live. I still remember the terror of having no income to support myself and my family. Anxiety and depression were sometimes overwhelming.
Put yourself in the shoes of the Gulf coast inhabitants, who have known only one livelihood – such as fishing or tourism – like generations of family members. Many have lived in the same town they’d grown up in all their lives. What can they do to find a new identity for themselves and a new way of life they can survive in?
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July 6th, 2010
As I thought about the layers of meaning in the “Lost” series, one of the final questions was whether the survivors felt they belonged on the island. Many of the survivors wondered why they were there, whether they wanted to stay or leave as fast as they could. One of the mysteries was about John Locke, who regained his ability to walk after the crash. Another was what Kate was accused of, and whether she was guilty. The sideways stories in the last year showed how their lives might have been different and where they were would have ended up living their lives.
Although the answers to these puzzles ended with many different interpretations, the one constant conclusion was that their unique experiences on the island changed them. By the end of their stories, each had grown and changed in ways they couldn’t have anticipated. Each had discovered new parts of themselves, new ways of seeing themselves in the world.
The final ‘pillar of identity’ I identified in my book, The Five Ways We Grieve, was how loss influences our relationship to the world. Where do we fit now? Most survivors seek a sense of belonging after losing a loved one, because they feel alienated from their previous way of living. Suffering other significant losses, like divorce or losing a job or career can have similar effects. Oceanic plane crash forced its survivors to adapt to a foreign environment, and surviving there led many of them to discover a new way of being in this strange new world. Those who survived successfully, were transformed into people they may not have become otherwise –some became wiser, more sensitive to others, while others let their baser instincts guided them to seek power at others’ expense. Obviously, Jack became the hero of the series, realizing that saving the island was his mission in life, even if it meant dying to do so.
The point I am making is that when we experience any serious life-altering event, our sense of ourselves and our identity is challenged. Those people who adapt often find themselves transformed into a different person with a new sense of what life is about and where they fit in the world. Grief experts describe this as the “unsought benefit” of the tragedy.
Can you think of ways that a tragic loss in your life has changed you?
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