MinnPost - Chimps clearly react to offsprings' deaths; are they grieving?

I thought I would share this interesting article on the grieving patterns of animals. The video in particular is powerful, as it illustrates the pain of the mother as she learns to live without her child.



In our own grief today, let's not forget how our animals react to loss. I know for my family, Rudy did not say much, but he grieved right along with us.


MinnPost - Chimps clearly react to offsprings' deaths; are they grieving?

The Fortune Cookie...

And in today already walks tomorrow. ~Samuel Taylor Coleridge

We decided to have Chinese food for dinner last night. We don't often eat take out, but I did a radio interview yesterday, and it seemed like a night to celebrate.

After our bellies were full, and the leftovers put away, we decided to open our fortune cookies. It is a tradition in our house to read each person's fortune aloud, and we either laugh or groan at the printed fortune. So far, we have not been able to top a fortune I found inside my cookie last November. It said:

"Thank goodness you finally released me from that cookie."

But last night's was definitely a keeper. The words were simple:

"The difficulties of life are intended to make us better, not bitter."

Now, I am not one of those people that puts all my money on a horse because my horoscope told me to. I don't become worried when Mercury is in retrograde, nor do I even really know what that means. But this fortune? I believe. I feel like I have opened my heart and allowed the difficulties in my life to help me grow as a person, with wisdom and humility. I give thanks for that every day.

But, as much as I enjoyed my fortune, it got me to thinking about how we sometimes put all of our hopes and dreams in the hands of others. We trust the astrologer, the fortune writer, the trusted friend, the spouse, the children, the church, the government, the social group, the facebook friends, and the list goes on....

Not that any one of those groups or individuals are bad. In fact, the wisdom of others is a wonderful resource, when used wisely. But truly, can any of them make you happy? Can any one of those people take away your pain of loss or tell you how to cope with it? Can anyone truly understand what's being said in that complicated head of yours?

I've been guilty in the past of getting caught up in the story of a situation. I have worried about things that had minimal odds of ever happening, I listened to the evening news and bought into the fact that the sky was falling or the future was determined.

But, true peace, honest happiness and factual fortunes can only come from within, when you become still and listen to your own guidance, which I believe is a script written by you and God. How things will play out in your life depends on what you decide.

Become still....listen. You have the ability and power to write your own fortune, no need for help

from others. You can decide how you respond to the difficulties in life. At any moment, you can choose to make it a better minute, hour, day, week, month or year. With the quickness of a breath, you can decide your future, foresee the future better than any 1-800 psychic waiting to take your call.

All you have to do?

Choose to live a grateful life, seeking out the goodness, day in and day out, no matter what the circumstance.

The rest will fall into place.

TGIF baby...

Kelly

The Miracle of Gratitude....

“He is a wise man who does not grieve for the things which he has not, but rejoices for those which he has.” — Epictetus

The power of gratitude in in the news! Yesterday, Marty Tousley of Grief Healing was kind enough to share a link to a blog post about the power of gratitude, and how it can transform lives and have physical, emotional and interpersonal benefits. The post was written by Daniel Tomasulo, Ph.D., and is worthy of your time if you are wondering how gratitude can help you change your perception regarding your life circumstances.

Check it out:

http://psychcentral.com/blog/archives/2010/04/26/gratitude-grace-and-granola/

The article was terrific, and there are some links at the base that are worth exploring.

Thank you to Marty for sharing the article and for living a purposeful life helping others navigate their way through loss.

How can gratitude help you today?

Kelly

Pancakes, Teenagers and Embracing Life's Joy

Because time itself is like a spiral, something special happens on your birthday each year: The same energy that God invested in you at birth is present once again. ~Menachem Mendel Schneerson

Today is Brendan's 13th birthday. A day worth celebrating, we began with the breakfast of champions, pancakes shaped in the number thirteen. I'm not sure why, but I am the kind of mother that begins days of celebration with theme shaped pancakes. For St. Paddy's, we have green shamrocks, I've done Christmas trees and letters, and hearts. And for each birthday, I create a pancake that is the number of my child's age on that particular day. This was one of the toughest years yet, as I needed two spatulas to flip the number three.

I'm not sure what it says about a person when they express love and occasions in pancake batter. But, I think it is good. I think it shows "you're worth the effort."

I smiled and waved as he left to catch the bus, belly full but still muttering something about how no child should have to go to school on his birthday.

And as I closed the door to begin my day, I noticed something. My heart felt light and good and joyful. And it reminded me of something worthy of sharing with you this morning.

Nine months ago, I never thought I would have joy in my heart, ever again. I was convinced that I was not destined for a life of happiness and joy. But slowly, bit by bit, the happiness is starting to come back. The dark days of grief have, for the most part, eased up, although I still have moments where I simply can't believe that this is my new reality.

I believe that happiness came back to me because I invited it in. I believe it resides in my heart because I have allowed it to do so. And when you lose someone as wonderful as Stephen, it is not always easy to do that, to let the joy back in. But, I am so glad I did.

I did it bit by bit, moment by moment. I did it by appreciating a flower in bloom, or a cuddle from my child, or a memory of Stephen. I found joy in the kindness shown to me by friends and strangers alike, the unwavering support of my family and my faith. I found joy because I looked for it. I made a choice to find it.

You can too. No matter what the circumstance, there is still good in your life, and joy that surrounds you. No matter who or where you are, no matter what your personal situation. The joy is there, and with time and a willingness to see it, you will find it.

Brendan and I had a wonderful discussion about events like birthdays, wondering if it was okay to be happy on those days, even when we felt a little sad because Stephen was not physically with us.

And we both came to the same conclusion when we asked ourselves this question,

"What Would Stephen Want?"

We believe Stephen would want us to grab onto all the joys of life with two hands. We believe he would want us to drink up happiness, and savor each breath of each day, not just the birthdays and graduations and parties. We know he would want us to choose happiness and live the life that God gave us with a "Game Seven of the Stanley Cup Final" mentality.

So, we will. Today, I am thankful for number shaped pancakes, made each year with love for both of my boys. I am thankful for my beautiful boy, who awoke this morning, and was still the sweet boy from the night before, and had not transformed into a "scary teenager" as he slept. And I am thankful for the guidance that Stephen gives us everyday, quietly leading us towards a joyful life.

Take some time today to look around your own life, and notice the good stuff. Think about the person you lost, and what they would want for you and your life. I'm not a betting girl, but I believe that all of our loved ones who have passed are watching over us and wanting us to be happy.

Wishing you a birthday cake and balloon bouquet kind of day,

Kelly

Grief Versus Depression

Grief is itself a medicine. ~ William Cowper

I recently made a visit to the doctor's office for a routine checkup on my thyroid levels. No worries, this blog is not getting too personal, that is as much of the details you will get on the medical side of things. But, I had an interesting conversation with the new doctor that I was seeing for the first time. It was about Grief versus Depression.

About a month after Stephen died, I had to go to the doctor for my thyroid check. I felt about 100 years old, my heart ached, I had dark circles beneath my eyes, and life was simply harder than I ever imagined possible. Even with my daily gratitude, I could not change the fact that I missed my son terribly, and was in a deep and inconsolable grief. It was my first visit to this physician, as my family doctor had recently moved.

Sitting up on the examining table, the nurse came in to check me in for the appointment, assess my vital signs and find out the reason for my visit. I was brief in my answers, wanting to get this over with and get the heck out of there. But, she noticed my blood pressure was elevated from the last recording on my chart.

"Your blood pressure is up. Is there anything going on in your life that is stressful right now?" she asked.

And, as if I was a dam on a raging river, I burst out crying, exclaiming that my son had died. I rambled some of the details of his passing through my tears, and grabbed a tissue.

And then, the visit took a turn. The nurse abruptly stood up, looking very uncomfortable with my tears, and said, "Well, I'm going to leave, because I'm not much good to you right now."

Yep, she just left me. Sitting on a paper sheet in a clinic examining room, to cry alone as I stared at a medical poster about the digestive system. Being a nurse myself, I immediately thought back to my school days regarding empathetic communication and surmised that she had missed those classes. Her discomfort was obvious.

But that was not the end of it. The doctor arrived in the room, and was visibly uncomfortable, averting her eyes away from my tear filled ones. She skirted around Stephen's death, never actually addressing it directly, or offering a simple condolence. If I had not been in so much pain, in need of some simple comfort, I think I would have started to laugh. Because I felt like I was part of the filming of the "before" video for, "How Medical Professionals Communicate With the Bereaved."

And then she said it.

"Let's talk about Paxil and Prozac."

Not once in my visit did I ever say I was feeling depressed. In fact, I did not even express anything about my grief, because she didn't ask. I was simply requesting a blood level and prescription renewal for my thyroid medication.

But, in her mind, based on what the nurse told her about me as they stood quietly outside the door, I needed to be medicated. Perhaps it was my tears, sparked by the fact that I, for one of the first times, had to say aloud that my son had died.

My reaction? I gave her my eyebrow, which said more than words ever could, and I told her I was grieving, not depressed and there was a big difference.

Now, Let's back up a little. What's the difference between grief and depression? The dictionary definitions defines them as:

Grief: Grief is a multi-faceted response to loss, particularly to the loss of someone or something to which we have formed a bond. Although conventionally focused on the emotional response to loss, it also has physical, cognitive, behavioral, social, and philosophical dimensions. Reaction to a major life loss; deep and poignant distress caused by or as if by bereavement.

Depression: a state of feeling sad : (2) : a psychoneurotic or psychotic disorder marked especially by sadness, inactivity, difficulty in thinking and concentration, a significant increase or decrease in appetite and time spent sleeping, feelings of dejection and hopelessness, and sometimes suicidal tendencies c (1) : a lowering of vitality or functional activity.

You can see that some of the definitions and descriptors in the depression definition sound like the feelings that one experiences on their grief journey. And honestly, in some cases, people do in fact become depressed because of grief. It can happen, and it is understandable.

But I am here to tell you that there is a big difference between the two.

Grief is a natural response to loss. Grief is a journey. Grief is something that you need to do in order to heal your broken heart. Grief is not something that needs to be medicated because a physician doesn't know what to say and wants to find solutions for you. However pure the doctor's intentions were, she didn't understand an important fact. Medicating grief does not make it go away. It simply dulls it, so it can sit and wait beneath the surface to be faced at a later date.

The reason I rant about all of this? Because my new physician (sorry, could not go back to see this gal anymore) talked about my grief as one of the first things on her list after reviewing my chart. I loved her direct approach, asking me how I was doing. She said that my chart indicated I was having a delayed grief response during my last visit. I explained that was not accurate, and that on my last visit to the doctor's office, my son had only died a month before. She quickly made note of this, and apologised for the assumption. She asked about how I was coping, and listened, nodding approval at our choice to go to grief counselling, and journal. Not once did she ask me about depression. Instead, she assessed me as a professional, and understood that I was doing just fine.

Two doctors. Two different approaches.

If you are grieving, remember that it is a journey, and it is a natural response to losing someone or something you loved. Remember that there is a difference between grief and depression, and speak up if you feel like your grief is being misdiagnosed. Remember that there is no pill that can take away the pain of loss. If there was, everyone would be taking it. The only cure for the pains of loss is time, and it is individual for everyone. Of course, if you experience some of the more marked symptoms of depression listed above or online, you should always consult your family physician.

If you are a medical professional, take some time this week to evaluate your approach to the bereaved when they show up in your office. Do you talk to them, or do you write the pain away? Do you bolt for the door, or do you comfort?

Even for the trained professional, grief can be an uncomfortable reality. Think about your approach and understand that in your quest to heal, that grief is not something to be fixed, but rather it is something to be experienced.

Have a great one,

Kelly

Happy Friday...

“The strongest oak of the forest is not the one that is protected from the storm and hidden from the sun. It's the one that stands in the open where it is compelled to struggle for its existence against the winds and rains and the scorching sun."Napoleon Hill (1883-1970)

TGIF.....the sun is shining here, and life is good. Thought you might like this video. I seek out the inspirational stuff. It reminds me of the countless individuals who went before me who made a choice to take their life's disappointments and pain and continue to live. They are my teachers.

Wishing you all the joys that Friday should bring,

Kelly

A Mother's Choice to Channel Her Grief...

Here is the test to find whether your mission on earth is finished. If you're alive, it isn't. ~Richard Bach

Happy Earth Day. I had planned to write about finding gratitude in nature this morning, but once I read this story in the New York Times, I wanted to pass it along.

It is a story about Judy Avrin, and her quest to make a heartfelt documentary about bulimia following the death of her daughter Melissa from the very same eating disorder.

On my journey, I am so humbled to see so many bereaved taking their pain and channeling it into something positive that ultimately honors their lost loved one. Judy is one of those people. She made a choice to use her story to help others.

Hope you enjoy the beautiful story of courage about Judy and her family.

Get out and hug a tree today,

Kelly

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/22/fashion/22Melissa.html

Compassion: One of the Gifts of Grief

If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion. ~Dalai Lama

Today, I am thinking of a friend. She is experiencing the loss of someone very important to her, someone, like Stephen, is gone way too soon. My heart aches for her and her family.

I used to process these events in life differently, before losing Stephen. I would feel empathy for the person, but to be honest, I'm not sure I really thought deeply about the people who remained. I'm not sure why, I think I am a caring person, or at least that is what my momma raised me to be.

But now, it is so different. Now, for an instant, my breath catches in my throat, and I feel it. I remember back to the moment when my life changed forever, and I think about the people who are having that moment right now. My heart aches. Sometimes, I weep for them, knowing what they are enduring right now is only the beginning of the journey. Sometimes, my tears are mourning the fact that there is no shortcut or quick fix for this pain. The path they will walk is individual, but cannot be shortened or abbreviated, or alleviated.

I wrote earlier this week that one of the things I am thankful for since Stephen's death is my ability to be present. The next gift I have received is the gift of compassion.

In my nursing days, I cared for people teetering on the edge of death, and I sincerely cared for them and their well being. But I can honestly tell you, I never truly understood the meaning of compassion until I looked at life through the eyes of loss.

Webster's defines compassion as a:

"sympathetic consciousness of others' distress together with a desire to alleviate it."

Webster's really captured it, but the part missing for me is the depth of compassion that one can feel for others when they too experience loss and pain, but choose to open rather than close their hearts. The key for me to a compassionate heart and life is the choice not to shut down your broken heart when it breaks. Instead, when you are hurt, you realize that the broken part of your heart is actually the strongest piece. Because an open heart is a softer heart, and is able to see the similarities between us all. We all hurt from time to time, it is part of the journey.

So, today, I am thankful, so very thankful that I opened my heart when it was broken. No matter how much it hurt to get it, I have been given the gift of compassion, and it is by far one of the best presents I have ever received. Even better than Merlin.

I am reposting something I wrote a while back, called Flickers of Light, for my friend and anyone else who is just beginning their journey.

Sending big hugs for those who need it today,

Kelly

For the Birds....

Use the talents you possess - for the woods would be a very silent place if no birds sang except for the best. ~Henry Van Dyke

I have an issue. There are several birds in my yard having an identity crisis or perhaps are somewhat delusional. Some weeks ago, I told you about one bird, that was determined to find a mate in his own reflection found on the kick plate of my front door.

But there's more. I now have a woodpecker than believes the side of my house is a big old tree. He starts at dawn, and his pecking sounds something like a jackhammer coming through my bedroom wall.

There is no talking to these birds. The poor guy looking for a date at my front door keeps finding love in his own reflection , and this woodpecker keeps...pecking, believing that once he gets through the siding, he will find a wonderful tree.

So, to celebrate the these two, I am sharing my original post once again. One of my faves for sure, http://gratitudeingrief.blogspot.com/2010/03/are-you-pecking-at-kick-plate-of-life.html

I don't know about you, but I can see some similaritites to my own life in the actions of my fine feathered friends. I have looked for the things I wanted in life in the wrong places before, pecked at my own kickplate if you will, only to retrieve nothing but a bad headache. I have returned to the same spot, or same action, time after time, year after year, expecting a different result.

Perhaps we can take a lesson from the birds on this sunny spring morning.

Here's to a tremendous Tuesday,

Kelly

The Power of the Present Moment....

Carpe diem quam minime credula postero – "Seize the day, trusting as little as possible in the future" -Horace-

Well, I am back at it on this bright and sunny Carolina morning. The weekend was great, and we did in fact get to spend a few hours at the beach before hockey started. We joked as we were unpacking the car, surmising that we are one of the only hockey families on earth who packs beach chairs next to hockey gear. And that, my friends, is something I am very thankful for.

As I said last week, the beach makes me reflective, and this trip was no different. There is something about walking quietly up the beach, standing at water's edge and looking out over the ocean, with no land in sight as far as your eye can see. It is magical, and I think it helps you put your life in perspective, understanding that you are part of a much larger picture.

So, I left the boys to play in the sand, and I walked up the beach with my iPod playing beach worthy melodies in my ears. I thought about the waves, the ocean, my husband, my life, Brendan, and of course Stephen. I remembered back to the last time I walked up the beach, crying with every step just a month after losing my precious baby boy. I listened to his iPod on that morning, with the classical playlist playing in my ears as I talked to God, and asked Him how I would ever go on.

But most of all, as I walked up the beach, I thought about how my life has changed.

Now, when I make that statement, I am sure you all immediately think I am talking about losing Stephen. And I am. But there is more.

As I walked up the beach, I realized that with the loss of Stephen, I have received the gift of knowing how to live in the moment. I now understand that the present moment is all that any of us really have. I realize the present moment is precious, far more valuable than I ever thought it was. Each moment must be savored rather than endured.

It is one of the things that I am most thankful for since losing Stephen. The art of being present in your life.

The lesson came to me from loss and pain. I learned how to be present because I could not bear to be anything else but in the moment. Contemplating the weeks or years ahead without Stephen just was much too painful. So, for self preservation, I decided to stay in the now. My life was not only broke up into days and weeks, but minutes. I survived those early days minute by minute.

But, what started as a method of protection has become a way of life now. I realize that now is all that we have. No one knows what is around the corner.

We spend so much time thinking about the past, and we give it power. Think about how we talk to ourselves about the past.

"I wish I could be happy, but I can't because this, this and this happened to me....therefore, I am destined for a life of sadness, or loneliness, or lack."

We look at what has happened to us, and we let it define us to the point that we relive our mistakes, our hiccups in life, our deep hurt. It is as if we tattoo ourselves with labels that only we can see when we look in the mirror, and cannot be covered up with the most expensive concealer. Things like:

"I'm divorced."

"I've never been able to lose the weight."

"I've had so much loss, I can never be happy again."

"Nothing ever works out for me."

And then there is the future:

" I really wish I could be happy, but I've been thinking about all the potential outcomes, and I can't take any risks in my life because what if this happened? What if I was hurt? What if I failed? No thank you, based on my calculation of risk, I will not stray too much from what I know for fear of future hurt."

We make decisions on our future based on what has happened to us in the past, and what could happen in the worst case scenario of the future. And because we apply fear to our lives before we apply joy, we build the ceiling in our lives before we even imagine the possibilities. We make a decision to tolerate circumstances because they are not as scary as true change.

It was because of my intense grief, that I realized the present moment is the only one that really matters. And of all the things I have learned from Stephen's death, this is the one I am most grateful for. This is the lesson that, when I truly apply it to my life, I can almost see him cheering me on. I still work at it every day, but I know now that it is the only way to live a life of joy.

Take some time today to slow your mind and just be present. Focus on what you are doing right here, right now, and nothing else. Pay attention to it, and take some peace from it. Free yourself of the regrets of the past and the worries of the future. Live now, as if this was all there is. For none of us knows what is around the corner. It could be pleasure, or pain. Enjoy the sweetness of now.

Told ya the beach makes me deep,

Kelly

Headed to the Beach...

When I first open my eyes upon the morning meadows and look out upon the beautiful world, I thank God I am alive.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

On my way to the beach. Actually, we are heading out for more hockey, but it is close to the beach, so I like to think we are going to the beach. It's just that it happens to be in between ice times.

The beach makes me reflective, and it played a big part in the my healing in the early days of my grief. So, expect deep and rambling posts next week.

Hope you like the quote. Ralph is such a positive thinker.

Wishing you a fabulous weekend,

Kelly

What Eva Cassidy Teaches Me About Life and Death...

'Eva Cassidy was happiest not in a smoky nightclub but outdoors, where she hiked and biked and basked in the beauty around her. She and her mother—her best friend—went for a walk, bike ride, or drive to the water almost every Sunday. "She had this old pickup truck, and one time we were on this country road and she started swerving," recalls Barbara Cassidy. "I said, 'What are you doing?' And she said, 'Mom, don't you see those caterpillars? I can't run over those.' " -taken from the article Songbird, written by Sherri Dalphonse and published in the Washingtonian May 2001-


Today, I want to share an artist who has changed the way I listen to music. If you been reading along you know the role that music plays in my life. Well, if you look at all the music I love and have listened to as I grieve Stephen, Eva Cassidy would be my favorite.

But, what may surprise you is my list of reasons.

Sure, obviously, her voice and talent has the ability to move you. As you listen to her, you can feel the passion; you just know how much she loved the music. On the dark and sad days, I listen along to her sad and haunting melodies and let her sing my emotion for me, as I hope for better tomorrows. On the good days, I have begun to sing along with her again, and it feels good to let the melody back into my heart.

But there is so much more.

Eva Cassidy's music slowly moves its way across the globe, touching each person who hears it, making them a lifetime fan of her talent. Her music is not mainstream, and it seems people find her through conversation and sharing, grassroots support for a talent that cannot be denied. She is not part of the mainstream machine, with a story spun to garner attention and television coverage and Grammy nominations. She is simply so good that people feel the need to tell you about her.

But there is so much more.

I've read a lot about her, and if your interested, here's two websites I would recommend: http://evacassidy.org/and

http://evacassidy.com/

As I read about her, I learned more about a soul that was as beautiful as the voice you hear. Gentle and giving. To truly understand this amazing life, and how people react to her talent, you can also watch this fantastic ABC story about her life:

http://abcnews.go.com/Nightline/video/rainbow--10170062

But there is so much more.

Eva Cassidy died on November 2, 1996. But so many years later, the beauty of her life lives on. As I grieve the loss of my own child, I feel tremendous gratitude for her family and friends who have continued to celebrate her talent and her life. Eva Cassidy teaches us that even in death, the beauty of a life lives on. The beauty of love surrounds us, and softens our hearts. And, as I remember Stephen in my writing, it is exactly what I would want for him too; the beauty of his life to continue.

I've attached a video performance filmed at Blues Alley in January 1996. Although this is not her last performance, this is the song she did perform her last time on stage. From what I've read, her last time on stage was a performance at a benefit concert that was being held for her as she battled cancer.

Six weeks later, she died.

Eva shows us that, even with the tremendous pain that life can give us, that it is still indeed, a wonderful world we live in.

Today, I am thankful for Eva Cassidy and for the life and the music that continues to live on.

Have a listen to her today, and sing along,

Kelly

With a Little Help From My Friends...

In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit. ~Albert Schweitzer

I know that when God gave out friends, I was blessed with more than my share. I have some phenomenal people in my life, and I give thanks for them each and every day. One shining example is my business partner and friend Mary. She has been by my side, and stood by me without fail in the days following Stephen's death. But more than that, she has essentially carried our business in the months following, making sure everything stayed on tracked as I grieved and wrote. I just knew everything was in good hands with Mary, as she approaches everything with excellence. Truly, I am not sure what would have happened with the company if it were not for her and her gentle and unspoken support.

Today, I am thankful for Mary, and for all of my other wonderful friends who have engulfed me with more love than I thought possible. They have carried me in the dark days, and have mourned the loss of Stephen right along with me.

Have a look at Mary's latest blog post for our business. She explains our partnership so well, and reminds me that friendship is one of the things that I am blessed with in my life.

http://thewordslingers.blogspot.com/2010/04/kelly-buckley-publishes-gratitude-in.html

If you are grieving the loss of a loved one, take some time today to look around and give thanks for your special peeps.

Kelly

A Tribute to a True Visionary....

You have brains in your head.You have feet in your shoes.You can steer yourself in any direction you choose.You're on your own. And you know what you know.You are the guy who'll decide where to go. -Dr. Seuss-

In thinking about how I would share today,

I moaned and I groaned and could find nothing to say.

So, instead I've decided that I should share,

Words crafted by a person with love and care.

For years he played a part in our children's lives.

But did you ever stop to see that his words are so wise?

Within each story is a lesson on living,

How to bounce back from hurt, and see the importance of giving.

In grief and in life I believe we all know,

that the way we approach it will determine how we grow.

So, take off your grown up hat and just for some fun,

step back to your childhood and see how it's done.

Wishing you a one fish, two fish red fish blue fish kind of day,

Kelly

The Power of Your Thoughts...

Our Best friends and our worst enemies are our thoughts. A thought can do us more good than a doctor or a banker or a faithful friend. It can also do us more harm than a brick. -Frank Crane

I never thought I would be one of those people who count the months without him. But I do. Nine months. And with each month's passing, I am becoming more acutely aware of:

How my thoughts affect my emotions.

My emotions determine my actions or reactions.

My actions determine if it is going to be a good day or a bad day.

My days grow into weeks, then months and all of those moments will be known as my life.

So, if I want to have a good life, I need to pay attention to those thoughts of mine. The quote I found today sums it up perfectly for me. We can use our thoughts as our greatest ally or our worst enemy. It is all entirely up to us.

I used to be the worst case scenario girl. It was all very dramatic really, as I could take a simple situation with minimal risk and turn it into a sequel for Armageddon. I'm not sure how that all started in my life, but I think it had something to do with wanting to control my circumstances. I wanted to feel like I had it all figured out, along with any potential ripple effect that could come from something. I needed to feel a sense of control over my situation, and thought controlling the external circumstances in my life would give me peace.

And then, Stephen died, and I realized I was not in control at all. Groundless is a word used to describe it, when all is stripped away. I've often said it is like the rug being pulled out from beneath your feet, and you tap your foot around feverishly looking for stability, only to find out the floor is gone too. It was the scariest time of my life, and at moments, I still have flashes of terror when I think about all that has transpired.

But you know what it taught me? Really, truly, the only thing I can have control over in my life is my thinking. I am the only person who can control my thoughts. I can make them positive or negative. I can look at my life and see someone who has nothing but bad luck, or I can see a life that is filled with blessings. That is why I write, and find gratitude.

I choose happiness. I choose to look for and see the blessings in life, even the blessings that have shown themselves to me in Stephen's death. My thoughts don't take away the pain, but it makes it easier to bear. Thinking thoughts of love and gratitude don't make me miss him any less, but they do allow me to see how blessed I was to have him for at least 23 years. They do allow me to see all that his short life has contributed to others.

What about your own life? Have you ever met someone who seemed to "have it all" in a material sense, but was still unhappy? Now, have you met someone who seems to pick the short straw in life no matter what, and still manages to find joy?

In my oncology nursing days, I got to know the most amazing man, being the person who administered his chemotherapy for about six months. He was in his late seventies, and had lived a life that was rich and full of travel and experiences. I always marveled at him, as he would skip into the Cancer Clinic where I worked, kind of like a kid rushing into a candy store. He had a loving and doting wife, and they acted as if they were teenagers still dating. Each week, I would sit and chat with him, and as the months passed, I could see that he was not getting better. He was slowly dying. He knew it, and so did his wife. But each week, they would arrive smiling. One day, when his wife left the room for a moment, he leaned over to me and said something along the lines of this,

"I know what's coming, but what good is talking and thinking about it going to do me? So I made peace with it, and I am going to spend the rest of my time just living."

And he did. He realized that even though the circumstances were dire, he was in control of his thoughts. And he chose to be happy in his last days. He could have made excuses, and given himself a free pass to complain because he was dying. But, he chose to be happy, even in his last days, as he endured chemotherapy and the pain of his cancer.

I think about him from time to time, as he impacted my life, and in some ways, affected how I grieve for Stephen. And he never knew it.

Think about your own thoughts. Are you even aware of them? What are you telling yourself each day? Are you saying that life is good? Or is life unbearable?

Take some time today to slow your thinking long enough to pay attention to what your saying to yourself.

Thoughts become emotions, emotions become actions, your actions become your days, and your days become your life.

What kind of life are you building? For me, I am trying to build something that I know Stephen would want me to have.

Think yourself a good one today,

Kelly

Sesame Street: When Families Grieve

It's not easy being green. -Kermit the Frog-

I love Sesame Street. They've spent years focused on educating and entertaining our children. I watched them as a kid and so did both of my sons.

I am so pleased that they continue to tackle the difficult subjects. Check out the preview of the new special, "When Families Grieve." It airs on April 14th on PBS, so check your local listings.

Have a supercalafragilistic Saturday,

Kelly

Back on Track...

It is not best that we should all think alike; it is a difference of opinion that makes horse races.

-Mark Twain-

I've been away from the blog for a few days, contemplating many things. It's always good to take a step back in life from time to time, and reconsider your direction and plans.

My reason for stepping back was related to some feedback I had received regarding my approach to grief. I initially had decided not to blog about it, but as it has created a block of sorts for me, I thought I should just put it out there.

For some, this grieving with gratitude makes them uncomfortable. The feedback came from a couple of different places, but where is truly irrelevant. For some, grieving with a focus on the positive in what remains means I am not hurting as much as someone else. Or it means this is a game I play to sell books. Or I am in denial, and not really dealing with the emotions of loss.

I am human, and it really hurt to have someone question my style of grieving and my love for Stephen. I thought I was doing okay. And to clarify, I blog to survive. I am not being a drama queen with that statement, it's true. Finding, and then writing about things with a focus on gratitude has given me a reason to keep going in a sense. Because, I still hurt. I will not deny that, nor tell you that a focus on gratitude will take that hurt away. It will not.

So, for the past ten days or so, it has caused me to pause, and has taken the inspiration out of my writing. I can't tell you the number of times I began to blog, only to realize that it was not worthy of publishing. I have quietly contemplated my reasons for writing, and sharing my journey. I've reread some of the emails I have received from others, telling me about their own lives, sparking a dialogue between us that otherwise would not have happened.

And then I looked at my life. And all that surrounds me. I looked around with wonder as I could see a life that was being lived. It was still a life with a lot of pain in it, but I was living. Truly living. And it was because of gratitude. It was because I focused on the good that remained in my life. It was because I did not see I had any other option but to do it this way.

The past ten days have shown me just how important finding gratitude really is. Not for the blog, but for my life. When I stepped back, and stopped searching for it, guess what? I started to pay more attention to the crappy stuff. And I simply refuse to live like that ever again.

So, I will continue. If my style of grieving/living makes you uncomfortable, then it is probably not for you. There are so many wonderful resources out there, so I hope you find something that is a better fit. And, if feel you can relate, jump in and be part of the discussion with me.

Wishing everyone a Fantastic Friday.

Kelly

A Point to Ponder...

Our family is back from an exciting weekend of family and fun in Nashville. It was good to have a change of scenery this weekend, as we worked through another first without Stephen, this one Easter. And we did it.

It was good to be away, but I am glad to be back to my writing. I missed it, and it helps me on the good and bad days as I learn to live without Stephen.

Today, I would like to share a quote and get your thoughts. Do you agree or disagree with this statement?

Through love all pain will turn to medicine.
-Rumi-

Off to do the laundry,

Kelly

The Gift of a Blown Engine...

“The one thing you can’t take away from me is the way I choose to respond to what you do to me. The last of one’s freedoms is to choose ones attitude in any given circumstance.” -Victor Frankl-

Yesterday, my husband and I spent some time in Mayberry. The real name of the town is Mount Airy, NC, the home of Andy Griffith. The main street is alive with small shops that seem to be thriving in this big box world, and it was so good to see a community busy with activity. The Mayberry police car was parked in front of one of those shops, and people were lining up to pose in front of the historic vehicle. It was nice to see another piece of Americana.

But, we weren't there for a tour or to have our picture taken. We went there to pick up Stephen's car. It's been up there since last spring, stored by a kind man who had no idea he would be taking care of it for this long. Last April, Stephen called us to say the car was having major issues, and boy, was he was right. Not long after the call, it died completely, and the transport of it turned into a huge adventure for Brady and he.

I remember the night they towed it from Raleigh and into our driveway. I looked at this broken piece of metal, thinking about how many dollars it was going to cost to get a new engine. The economy was in the toilet, and our business had slowed to what I describe as "short of breath." It was a scary time for everyone financially.

But, when Stephen got out of the car, it did not matter to me. The money would be found somehow. And I hugged into him and said, "The car is toast, but on the up side, I get a surprise visit from you."

And he hugged me back, so tight. We hung out and laughed that night, and the next morning, before he left to go back to school, we sat for over an hour on the back deck, and just talked about life and love, and school, and faith. And, as he left, I felt so, so good. Because he was in such a good place. And he was no longer a boy. He was a man, a beautiful and thoughtful, intelligent, caring man. It was one of the last deep chats we had about life, laughing together in the spring sunshine.

That chat on the back deck sparked a series of emails that I held onto in the early days of my grief and actually played a huge role in shifting my focus on gratitude as I mourned his loss. That shift, that focus is now a book, whch excites and thrills and terrifies me all at the same time.

I forgot about those moments until the instant I saw the car. And, when I looked at her ( Xena is her name. I was told this by his friends, but I am not entirely sure of the story behind it, and not sure I want to know), I cried. All the memories of that day and so many more flooded my mind.

We thanked the man for watching over Xena until we were ready to pick her up. And we took her home. And when Brendan saw the car, he immediately went to it, and looked in every compartment. I did too. The CD's were unchanged, his stuff was still in there. Brendan found his sunglasses, and his cologne, and was thrilled to find "Stephen's smell." We found lists, and papers, and cleaning supplies. All neatly organized. Brendan told us we must not change anything in there, not yet. Cue broken heart here.

It was like he had just parked in the driveway himself, and at any moment, would come around the corner. But he didn't. And I quietly went inside and cried the sobs that I have so many times before over the last nine months. It just hurts, and there is no denying it.

We're keeping the car. Xena stays, and Brendan is thrilled to know that she waits for him when he finally gets his learner's permit.

So, what am I possibly thankful for today?

The blown engine. Without it, I would not have had that wonderful chat with him on the deck. I would not have heard the beautiful things that he said about life, and love and his faith, and our relationship. I would not have been able to watch he and Brady, laughing and hugging in the driveway. Smiling at a blown engine when others would have been cursing the sky. If it were not for the blown engine, I would not have had the email exchanges with him, sparking my gratitude in the face of loss, that both saved me and became a book.

And because of the blown engine, yesterday, for an instant, I felt him again, like he was just around the corner. I could feel his life as he left it.

Today, I am thankful for a blown engine. It gave me a beautiful moment with my child I will cherish forever, and it gave us one last glimpse of life as he left it, confirming once again he was as amazing as I thought he was.

See how I sifted out the bad stuff and turned it into something good? You can do it too...

Kelly