When We Learn To Be The Willow

There comes a time for all of us when we come face-to-face with unbelievable hardships in life. The death of our life partner is the most profound. Sadly, an inevitability of being human. And facing this hardship and dealing with it is something that life’s wisdom gets around to teaching us. It is a very hard lesson to learn but, “bouncing back” is a central part of the human condition.

How we face grief and cope with it is different for all of us, albeit the emotional roller coaster is the same. It takes time to accept the reality of a new life, and fighting grief makes it harder. Something dare I say I learnt the hard way. Not uncommon for those of us who are skilled at dealing with crisis. We are experts at shifting into must do mode and we file the overwhelming emotional side away. At some point that comes back, and we are forced to deal with it. It is at that point we “hit the wall”.

So like the Willow, when we learn to bend with the winds of adversity (grief) that’s the time we learn how to grow again in times of profound change.

The Importance of Storytelling

When we have the courage to share our stories, it enables others to understand that they are not alone, that many of us are going through the same things. That, in turns helps others to find the courage to share their own journey. When you are struggling, just feeling safe in sharing those experiences is vital. 

When we rebuild our lives and we share that, that inspires others to try something different. Knowing we are helping others gives meaning back to us. Thus, the ripple effect begins. Never underestimate how powerful that is. 

It Will Never Just Be Another Day

 The dilemma of explaining it’s not just another day. Even after nearly seven years, I still (inwardly) struggle with this. In a week’s time, October 2 is my husband’s birthday. Two months after on December 8 will be the anniversary of his death, the 7th since his passing. In a discussion with my brother yesterday, he said, “But it’s really just another day, isn’t it?” That felt like stab through my heart.

He didn’t say it to be unkind because he loved my husband and misses him. He also loves me. He was trying (in a clumsy way) to be helpful. But as we know, those who have not been through the loss of the person they shared every aspect of their life with can ever understand that it is not just another day. It’s the day we relive every minute of the last birthday or the last day of their life. It’s the day that we think about everything that has been taken from us. It’s the day that we have to accept all over again that they’re never coming back. No it is not just another day.

I went on to explain that for 363 days of the year I get on with living life but on those two anniversary days I’m back to where I started. Time does not change that. It will never just be another day for me.

The Victim Shield

Life can be hard and conflicting. Whilst some are rejoicing in a new life, others are dealing with death. Or trying to come to terms with what is ahead. It is in moments like this that we ask so many questions.

 Why are they so happy and I’m at the depths of despair?

 

Why did they take my husband?

 

Why am I the one left to cope with this?

 

I wasn’t prepared for this. Why me?

 

How can I face life on my own? I’m not ready!

 

There are so many whys. We simply don’t know what the answers are and so we do our best to figure out how to deal with it. We often have to battle resentment toward those who appear to have everything. We doubt ourselves. Worst of all, it is so very easy to take on the mantle of victim. Why me? Why am I left here? Why do I have to suffer the pain of loss? If we aren’t careful and without being aware of it, why and I become our Victim Shield. When we are in that space, it’s very hard to be positive about anything.

 

I’ve been in a bit of dark space these last few days. Not because of my loss, I’ve learnt to deal with that and have a good life now. It is a loss that is to come, that of a much loved nephew who is entering the final stages of terminal cancer. I’ve asked the why question many times. Why him, why them? He still has half his life ahead of him. I also know what his equally loved wife is facing. Thinking about this has surfaced the dark days of dealing with my husband’s death, albeit his was very sudden. When I find myself in places like this, I find solace on my beach.

 

I live on the east coast of Australia. We are currently witnessing the aftermath of the underwater volcano eruption off Tonga along our shores. When I was watching the surf yesterday, I was reminded the reality is life is full of ebbs and flows just like the oceans. And when things happen, particularly when we aren’t prepared for them, it’s so easy to put up the Victim Shield. That is exactly what I had been doing since hearing the news from my nephew. The endless why me? Why our family again? Haven’t we lost enough already? How am I going to cope with another loss? Me, me, me! 

 

But the ocean will settle again just as we all will despite what we believe. Why? Because everything in life is temporary. Nothing is permanent. Life itself is temporary, and why should we be spared from loss when others aren’t? The pain and fear I was experiencing these last few days will be temporary.

 

Whilst sometimes in life, things happen that seem unfair, inexplicable or challenging. If we can find the courage to open our hearts and minds and acknowledge we’re being guided to our destiny and that certain experiences are necessary for our growth, then there is the glimmer of hope that we will emerge stronger and better equipped to help others. That’s what life is really all about, helping each other. That helps us find our purpose and meaning in death. 

 

 

Before you turn the light out tonight…

I wrote this for people on a Facebook Community I’m a part of for people who have lost their husbands or wives. However, it applies to anyone dealing with death or loss of any kind. Even those of us who are finding just surviving day in, day out is a struggle. 

The Power of Yet

Losing our life partner, for most of us, is the hardest thing we have ever had (or will ever have) to deal with. And it is for the rest of our life that we have to. It is not one of those things that we just “get-over” or cure. It can be utterly debilitating and it can so easy to just give up. 

However, I’m a believer that we can and need to keep going. It’s not easy by any stretch but those who loved us (and still do) would want us to at least try. That is where the Power of Yet can play a very important role. 

If we just pick one thing we can’t do and change how we deal with that, it can and will make a difference. Once we have fixed one, move onto the next thing. Just work through the list one at a time and as we tick each one off, our lives will change. It doesn’t matter how long it takes, we simply work at our own pace. 

Life may never be as happy or filled with love that it once was, but we can find peace and contentment. That is so much better than where many of us were and, sadly, many still are. So each time we hit a wall and can not do something rather than say I can not do this, add YET. ♥️♥️♥️

I posted this on a community page I share for people who have lost their husbands or wives. But this principle can apply to any challenge in life not just dealing with grief. Changing how we approach obstacles can make all the difference. 

Something Special Happened To Me Today

I was walking on the beach searching for shells. Shells are usually perceived as feminine; a symbol of birth, good fortune, and resurrection. We could all do with some good fortune. 

On the way down to the beach, I walked by a Scottish Thistle. It reminded me of my childhood in the country. We used to wait for them to dry and go a beautiful silver and we’d used them as chandeliers in our cubby house. It was a nice memory but nothing more that the time. 

I was walking along the waters edge trying to spy a nice shell specimen but it’s very hard to find perfect shells on an open coastline like ours. I’d walked some distance and couldn’t find anything that wasn’t broken. Then I was suddenly struck by an overwhelming feeling of loneliness. Lonely in the sense of missing those who have left, particularly Richard and of course my mum, dad, and sister. I felt very sad, very alone

However, I kept walking and then I realised in front of me was one beautiful shell after another. I picked up three. On the way back, I looked for a shady area to just rest and breathe in the salt air. I found a rocky spot at the edge of the sand near the bush and sat down. I looked to my side and to my amazement there on the rock was this beautiful, slightly weather-worn but almost perfect shell. I picked it up to add to the three I already had. 

I wasn’t far from the steps leading up to the walkway home and a beautiful black and white border collie raced up to me. I had noticed her sitting with her owner. He waved and I waved back. She reminded me of my childhood border collie, Lassie. I found out her name is Emmie. She is a beautiful dog, I could have easily stolen her. 

So what is the amazing bit? I believe when people leave us, they still keep an eye out for us. Particularly in those moments when we are feeling low. They show us they’re around in leaving signs. Two of the people most dear to me showed me today; my dad and my Richard. 

My dad always told us how amazing our chandeliers were. He also knew how special Lassie was to me. Richard knows I love shells and symbolism. You see we never truly walk alone despite how we feel at times. 

Just those three little things; a thistle, a shell and a dog can have so much meaning. They certainly did for me today.