Heart to Heart

This experience made me realize that comedy can evoke a surprising mix of emotions. There were moments when he focused on his family, using his wife and children to illustrate his long-suffering trials and frustrations to get a laugh. While his observations on family life were funny, having just lost my husband—the love of my life for almost 50 years—I could not help but think that I would have given anything to have him back by my side, even for a fleeting moment. We could have been laughing together, enjoying the show, regardless of our personal foibles and his serious medical challenges over the years. This experience showed me that comedy, especially when it touches on the everyday details of life, can bring bittersweet reminders of a love that is now gone.

Four years. Nearly four years. The calendar pages fly by in a blur. Am I awake? Asleep? – Expressive writing such as poetry can help to identify, express, place and hold feelings and experiences related to grief, read more of Jessica’s poem.

Because I know this loss very intimately, professionally and personally, I deeply appreciate how much it means to have a time to connect, remember and share with others who have been on a similar journey. The upcoming Summer Remembrance for Alzheimer’s and Dementia is a space to remember and honor your person. Whatever your journey and your person’s journey looked like, you are invited to attend the space to memorialize them.

A story was shared with us that felt too kind not to pass along.
The eight-year-old niece of Genna Reeves, our community liaison in New Mexico, created step-by-step drawing instructions for sea creatures. Her simple hope was to give them to anyone who is grieving, to help them feel “less sad”—especially for those quiet, sleepless hours.
It is a small gift from a pure heart. A quiet reminder that you are thought of with great kindness. We invite you to give these instructions a try and create a sea creature of your very own.

Grief during adolescence somehow becomes an adult of its own. Experiencing loss at a young age has had a profound impact on who I have become today. As a teenager, you are just trying to discover who you are, and after experiencing loss I never thought I would grow to be anything more than mournful. My Daddio died in May 2014.

Shortly after my dear, sweet husband died suddenly last year, I resurrected the following rhyming poem I had written to kickstart me on the second half of my life (as long as medical science cooperates until I reach the ripe old age of 148 years). Hopefully, it will be just as jam-packed as our marriage was, with all kinds of new and thrilling adventures, similar to the life that we shared for almost 50 years together…a true remembrance of my husband’s spirit.

First step alone, letting go, embracing the unknown: each action requiring conscious effort when grief, sadness or mourning create the texture of your life for such a long time. So often a day without persistent sadness seems to be followed by two or more days with pain and hold no moments of contentment or relief.

Facilitating a support group provides me with the chance to witness incredible courage and strength in those who are grieving. When I consider the fact that here are survivors of one of the most, if not the most, tragic event in their lives, coming together with people they probably have never met and sharing their deepest grief, is truly amazing. Whether their loss was one month, one year, or ten years ago, they are showing tremendous courage in opening their hearts to others. 

November is Hospice Appreciation Month. I have reflected on what that really means, to me, as a former hospice professional. It was an honor to work with families. It was a privilege to enter sacred space when someone was in their final weeks, days, hours and moments of life. I didn’t feel like I needed appreciation for holding sacred space and being a guest in each space I entered.

Hi friends……………………

We are now friends, fyi.  We’re in a club that no one wants to be part of. But I’m glad to call you a friend, for what it’s worth. Thanks for being here (even though neither of us want to be). Imagine I’m giving you a hug right now… because I know I need one, and can only imagine that you do too.