Friday, August 3, 2012

Grief Transformation - Take operate of Your Grief

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I learned something very important by grieving the loss of my son in 1993 and the loss of my husband in 2005:

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Take operate of your grief.

There is a fine line in the middle of denying the feelings and immersing yourself in the feelings for long periods of time. I had an unusual situation in 1993 when my son died at the age of 19 months; I was 8 1/2 months pregnant with my fourth child. Cooper died on Jan 15; the memorial assistance was on Jan 23; I gave birth to Hannah on Jan 30.

The details of life kept me busy while the first year of grieving. The arms I had wrapped nearby my son were now wrapped nearby my baby daughter. I grieved and cried and I began to reconnect to life.

During the 19 months of Cooper's life, he had two open-heart surgeries, a shunt for hydrocephalus, a hernia carrying out and finally a short round of chemotherapy. He had a rare health of three things: a congenital heart defect, hydrocephalus and a neuro-blastoma cancer.

As you can imagine with all of the operations, therapies and pain, he was very sensitive to his environment. I had traveled very little with him. The first year of grieving Cooper and caring for Hannah, I flew from Maryland to Florida to visit my sister, went on a two-week car trip with my mum exploring our family history, and to Massachusetts to visit family. My two older daughters were in school and stayed with my ex-husband.

Two weeks before the one-year anniversary of Cooper's death, I immersed myself in grief. Everyone said that the first year would be the hardest, right? The first anniversary of a birthday, all the holidays, extra moments experiencing the loss and the first year without my loved one and then it would get better, right? Somewhere inside of me, I understanding that if I let myself grieve with my whole heart and soul, that I would never feel this deep pain again. Yes, I would always miss him, but I would heal the deep pain.

It was easy to immerse myself in the details. By the time my son entered the hospital for the last time, I was a walking encyclopedia for every symptom, treatment, and medication. The details were imprinted on my brain and I would modernize every physician who was came to his bedside in the hospital.

Grieving at the one-year mark, I reviewed every detail in my mind throughout every day foremost up to his death. I cried. I read every book I could find on Life After Death and books about the loss of a loved one. I sat in the rocking chair with my arms wrapped nearby his beloved toys and cried. I curled up in a fetal position on my bed and cried for hours. I looked at his pictures. I sang his beloved songs. The pain I felt in my heart, the flow of tears, and the sobs of feeling the loss of his corporal nearnessy here were raw and real.

I wanted to feel it all so I could let the pain go forever.

By the end of the month of grief immersion, I was physically ill. For the next few months, I became weaker and weaker physically. The determination was an autoimmune health called polimiositis. My immune system was attacking my muscles. It took me 3 years to recover from the illness.

From that experience, I learned that grief immersion for a month was too much for my corporal body. I also learned that grieving is a life long dance. When grief appears, my heart is expanding to open to more love.

When my husband died, I took operate of my grief. In the first few days after his death, I cuddled on the couch with my daughters. We cried, watched movies, looked at family pictures and then I made us move our bodies.

We went through the motions and went out to dinner. We engaged in life with something every day. Uncomplicated things like a walk, filling up the gas tank, or paying a few bills created opportunities to associate with life again.

I found the rhythm of grieving, releasing and living life again, one step at a time.

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