I’ve been listening and learning
during this covid solitude.
Doing work
on myself, for myself.
Revelations abound:
I’ve been listening to Facebook live feeds from my favorite author Tom Zuba. His books literally changed my life after the death of my Love nearly 10 months ago.
Listening to explanations, seeing others’ reactions, and the opportunity to interact have helped tremendously in my process.
Lightbulb moment:
Grief is internal. Mourning is external. Everyone experiences grief. Only those who want to heal do the hard work of mourning. 💛”
— TOM ZUBA
Grief is not foreign. I have experienced deep grief since my Love died. Before that, my parents, sister, grandparents, and now most recently my Aunt. But before the last 10 months, I’ve held it in, not wanted to mourn. Not dared to let go and do the work of healing.
Holding in grief, stuffing it down, stiff upper lip, ‘it is what it is’, are toxic to my soul.
Outwardly expressing mourning with lamentation, crying (seemingly endless), and writing a lot (as evidenced here), work better for me and have helped me cope. When the waves of darkness overtake I have finally learned to reach out and not internalize.
Therefore, healing is not a destination, but the process that provides the tools to deal with the darkness when it knocks on the door. When on the road to healing, darkness includes rays of light to grab onto. But the process is life-long.
I could never stop loving my Love. He will always creep into my thoughts through memories, visits, funny things that remind me, his daughter’s sense of humor, anniversaries, 430, 777, and other things that are better off unsaid.
But I will love again, if someone strong enough to accept that fact and that it’s not a competition comes along.
My new favorite quote (where I am now):
“I discovered that healing is not a destination. I won’t wake up one day and be finally and fully healed, not while I’m in my physical body. Rather, healing is my new way of being in the world. Healing requires action every day. My hope, my prayer, my goal, and yes, my intention is to heal a little bit more each day until I finish my work here and leave my physical body.”
— TOM ZUBA
Healing is hard, imperfect work.
I will continue to heal,
cherish my family and friends,
continue to mourn,
then heal some more,
accept love if it comes,
mourn,
then heal some more,
write, live, be me,
mourn,
and heal some more,
and so it goes…
XO Lisa
It is an honour to have Lisa feature on our blog again! Another extraordinarily lovely post.
If you would like to feature on our blog; for a post that is long or short, please feel free to submit a post at thegriefreality@outlook.com
Have a lovely day.
Thank you so much for featuring me on your blog. I consider it a great honor! XO Lisa
Thank you Lisa, it was our pleasure 🙂 x
Beautiful and moving. I like the quote, grief is not a destination. Thank you for sharing. Stay safe.
Thank you for the nice comments! I am currently reading Tom’s Zuba’s book “Permission to Mourn” on my blog. Feel free to check it out!
I will. Thank you.
Beautifully written…..”Therefore, healing is not a destination, but the process that provides the tools to deal with the darkness when it knocks on the door. When on the road to healing, darkness includes rays of light to grab onto. But the process is life-long.”
Lisa, thank you for sharing your beautiful poem. I am glad you find writing to be therapeutic. Me too!
Six years ago, I lost my my ninety-year-old mother to Alzheimers. During the last few years of her life, I spent a lot of time with her. I wrote a poem, “Clouds,” about those last years with my mom in my book, Life in inspiring Places,
Last week, I wrote a poem which is on my blog, called “Forebears.” As I tried to read it aloud to my significant other, I burst into tears. I realized that I had never cried after my Mother’s death. Death had put an end to her suffering, and I had shared the journey with her, but I guess I still needed to cry.
Nearly twenty years ago, I lost my forty-five-year-old husband and was left with two children to raise. For the last ten years, I struggled to finish a poem about his death, which I finished last month and published on my blog. “Promises to Drew” is the name of the poem. I think you might like it.
All the best as you continue your grief journey. Cheryl Batavia.
Cheryl, Thank you for the nice comments! I am currently reading Tom’s Zuba’s book “Permission to Mourn” on my blog. Feel free to check it out!
That being said, the last nearly 13 months since my husband died have been filled with grief, mourning, tears, paradigm shifts, and I am finally on the road to healing and finding myself. My entire journey is all poured out on my blog.
I will be sure to check out your writing!
❤️XO Lisa
Nicely shared with your heartfelt words.
If you would like to share anything, you are more than welcome x
Thanks so much. If you see something I write that might speak to that, feel free to add it to your site. I appreciate it!
God, this was so moving Lisa. I had not known just how many losses you had been through. I cannot possibly relate to it. But I can see that your approach to healing and sharing is totally courageous and inspiring. 💙
<3
Hey, your comment was empty for some reason. 💙
That was so moving
I have read your post but I am at a fix as I cannot find words to comment.I can only thank the Lord for giving you the strength you really required to be strong and to move forward accepting the losses. Take care.🌹👍🙏