The woman who wrote this book is a therapist who, after her partner died suddenly of a drowning, wanted to apologize to all her clients. I felt the same way as a pastor - I had NO idea about the depth of grief until Chuck died. No idea.
And she is basically lifting up this cultural model of stories of transformation and redemption that we all live in and calling it out for those of us who grieve. Everybody wants us to feel better so we can fit into the narrative. I feel that pressure to tell myself that I am "turning a corner" and things are better. To tell myself - let alone to tell anyone else.
The truth is that I am - on the outside - turning a corner. I am not falling apart and am making visible progress in changing my home which reflects some kind of transformation I guess. And I have not missed any appointments because I was sitting on the couch crying since the first 2 weeks after he died. And I enjoyed my birthday and going to track meets and soccer game and cooking for Audrey and lunches out with friends. . And I am preaching and tomorrow doing a boundary training for ministers. I am on it.
Except when I stop and sit the tears come and come. I cried in bed last night naming my regrets and my deep love for Chuck. And it goes on and it will probably go on for a long long long time.
I want transformation and not carrying this ball of sadness around. I want to make it better.
I loved the movie that Audrey made on so many levels. Seeing myself as a child and then in my forties and then in my 60's and seeing my mother in her twenties and then in her seventies was startling and almost confounding. I sit with grief and wonder. At who I was and who I am. What I carry of that little girl bouncing in the waves and that middle aged woman who had a lot of peace and good humor about her. That is still me but it feels different now. .And I miss the innocence and excitment of that little girl and the busy life of that working mother And watching that movie makes me miss my mother and father and sister and of course, Chuck. . I sit in it all and it feels like a jumble inside of me. I want to find and write something profound about all of it but really it is life - life that keeps moving and the aging and the losses that are just there.
So, I will now take a shower and prepare for this day. Audrey and I go out to breakfast on Fridays - it is the end of her week and then she naps. She is putting together a bed for me in the new bedroom that is being created in the new home that is without Chuck. It is good, it is sad, it is hard, it is life.
Another book that I have been slowly reading through is The cure for Sorrow: A Book of Blessings for Times of Grief. It is written by Jan Richardson - a minister, writer, artist, who lost her husband..
This is an blessing:
THE BLESSING YOU SHOULD NOT TELL ME
Do not tell me
there will be a blessing
in the breaking,
that it will ever
be a grace
to wake into this life
so altered,
this world
so without.
there will be a blessing
in the breaking,
that it will ever
be a grace
to wake into this life
so altered,
this world
so without.
Do not tell me
of that blessing
that will come
in the absence.
of that blessing
that will come
in the absence.
Do not tell me
that what does not
kill me
will make me strong
or that God will not
send me more than I
can bear.
that what does not
kill me
will make me strong
or that God will not
send me more than I
can bear.
Do not tell me
this will make me
more compassionate,
more loving,
more holy.
this will make me
more compassionate,
more loving,
more holy.
Do not tell me
this will make me
more grateful for what
I had.
this will make me
more grateful for what
I had.
Do not tell me
I was lucky.
I was lucky.
Do not even tell me
there will be a blessing.
Give me instead
the blessing
of breathing with me.
there will be a blessing.
Give me instead
the blessing
of breathing with me.
Give me instead
the blessing
of sitting with me
when you cannot think
of what to say.
the blessing
of sitting with me
when you cannot think
of what to say.
Give me instead
the blessing
of asking about him----
how we met
or what I loved most
about the life
we have shared;
ask for a story
or tell me one
because a story is, finally,
the only place on earth
he lives now.
the blessing
of asking about him----
how we met
or what I loved most
about the life
we have shared;
ask for a story
or tell me one
because a story is, finally,
the only place on earth
he lives now.
If you could know
what grace lives
in such a blessing,
you would never cease
to offer it.
what grace lives
in such a blessing,
you would never cease
to offer it.
If you could glimpse
the solace and sweetness
that abide there,
you would never wonder
if there was a blessing
you could give
that would be better than this----
the blessing of
your own heart
opened
and beating
with mine.
the solace and sweetness
that abide there,
you would never wonder
if there was a blessing
you could give
that would be better than this----
the blessing of
your own heart
opened
and beating
with mine.
By Jan Richardson
from "The Cure for Sorrow – A Book of Blessing for Times of Grief"
from "The Cure for Sorrow – A Book of Blessing for Times of Grief"
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