A million times

A million times I've needed you
A million times I've cried
If love could have saved you
You never would have died
Things we feel most deeply
Are the hardest things to say,
My dearest one, I loved you,
In a very special way.

If I could have one lifetime wish
One dream that could come true,
I'd pray to God with all my heart
For yesterday and You.

-author unknown, stock verse

The 5 Stages of Grief

Psychologists have identified 5 stages of grief, bereavement or loss. But first let's talk about some of the types of loss. We can feel loss when someone close to us dies but we can also feel loss when someone we have been close to leaves us in other ways. For example a close friend might find a new job or be transferred out of the city, state or even country. We might suffer loss and grieve following a divorce or separation. We grieve when a pet dies or is lost. We grieve when we lose a job or even perhaps when we retire.

There is loss when we face a debilitating, life changing illness. One man I knew on being diagnosed with diabetes grieved the loss of food. All he said whenever anyone spoke to him was "I'm going to starve!".

Whatever the cause or form of our loss there are 5 stages we must work our way through. Our world will never be what it was for us before our loss but we can go out and make it as good as we can. Maybe we can even find a new direction to take ourselves in.

The first stage is Denial. We deny our loss. We refuse to accept it. When Mom died, my sister and I cognitively acknowledged that Mom was no longer with us yet on an unconscious level we were denying it like crazy! Take the Christmas Stocking Caper for example. I found an incredibly good buy on velour christmas stockings. They were much cheaper than I could make them so I bought one for each of us. At home, taking the stockings out of the shopping bag, I discovered I had bought ooe too many. My sister did the same thing. She bought 1 extra gift. For me the way to work through this was to accept that I was grieving. This was a normal part of the grieving process. We talked and laughed about the 'silly' things we did. And got passed that stage. Sort of. Amost. One day.

Stage two is Anger. We express our anger in many different ways. We might have a short fuse for a period of time. Sometimes we can become angry at the person or circumstance that created our loss. We might even become angry with ourselves. I keep searching for that illusive something that I might have done differently. You know ... the what if syndrome. Meditation can help release some of this anger. Take care not to let it overcome you. Don't let it turn inwards. Talk it out with someone. This too shall pass.

Stage three is Bargaining. We want to make a deal, make an offer of something, anything if only the reality will go away and our loved one, our job, whatever our loss is, will come back to us. It's only natural to wish this. Take your time and work through it.

Stage four is Depression. When the deal making doesn't work. When the reality doesn't go away depression might sneak up on us. It is a deeper form of sadness. It can manifest in fatigue or aches and pains. It can make us lethargic, unable to perform the simplest tasks.

Should you slip into this phase, please seek out qualified health care counselling. Depression is too difficult to fight on your own.

Finally we achieve Acceptance. We have cried. We have raged. We have wheedled and pleaded and connived. We have cried again but at last we have come to be at peace with our loss, with ourselves and our new reality. Our sense of loss becomes less intense over time. We can begin to move on again.

There isn't a set amount of time for any of these phases. There isn't a flow-chart mapping our progress 1-5. We have to give ourselves the time we need to work through our sense of berevement. Sometimes we move backwards or skip around the different phases. That's okay. It's all normal.

Be patient and kind to yourself. Seek help whenever you need it. You will get through it.


This article expresses my personal feelings on the grieving process and is in no way meant to take the place of seeking the counsel of qualified medical personnel. Seek qualified health care professionals reqarding this topic.

On Mother's Day (Etsy Bloggers Carnival May 5, 2008)

My mother loved to make angels. She crocheted big ones, small ones and all sizes in between. She didn't have a pattern for them. She didn't write her pattern down. Each angel was unique and hand made.

I remember one of Mom's birthday parties at which Mom distributed a tiny angel to each and every one of her guests. She had worked for weeks making them. I think one of my cousins even took two or three.  We all enjoyed these heavenly treats.

Mom was generous at giving out her angels. For years her eye doctor and his staff each received an angel at Christmas time. Mom always seemed to have at least one angel in her purse ready to give to someone who she felt might be in need of one. Cab drivers, shopkeepers, bus drivers, even strangers she met throughout her day all were blessed with her special gift.

To celebrate the millennium, Mom made tall pillow dolls using a millennium fabric. They were beautiful creations in gold and white.

Her children and grandchildren received little six inch angels. These had underskirts in our favourite colours.

It was always an adventure to find objects for wings and porcelain faces and hands, or to find enough balls of white and ecru crochet cotton around the holidays. I still have a stash of little dolls that Mom had planned on incorporating into her latest angelic design.

It will be 3 years this Mother's Day that we've celebrated without her. Like my mother before me I have to learn to 'suck it in' and get on with the business of living. At one time there were 3 mothers living under one roof. Mom had to learn to live without her mother for companionship when my own daughter was only 5 years old. Now a grown woman she tries to make Mother's day special for me.

We met with the minister when Mom died and discussed her prolific disbursement of angelic creations. At the funeral he mentioned these angels and asked the congregation for a show of hands of those who had received at least one of these angels. This request was met with laughter and I heard a rustling from the congregation that filled the little chapel. I didn't even have to turn my head to know that every single person in that room had raised their hand.

When the organist began to play Mom's 2 favourite hymns I swear I could hear her voice belting out the melody. And every Angel in the celestial kingdom joined right in.

I'd like to close this entry with the following prose created by one of the funeral director's for a memorial evening for bereaved families at Christmastime. I think it is just as pertinent for Mother's Day. It brings me peace.

• In the rising of the sun and in its going down, we will remember them.
• In the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter, we will remember them.
• In the blueness of the sky and in the warmth of summer, we will remember them.
• In the rustling of leaves and in the beauty of autumn, we will remember them.
• In the beginning of the year and in its end, we will remember them.
• When we are weary and in need of strength, we will remember them.
• When we are lost and sick at heart, we will remember them.
• So long as we live, they shall live, for they are now a part of us, as we remember them.

In December, my family and I attended a ceremony held at the funeral home that hosted the services for my mother. We were welcomed to "a place where grief and Christmas could come together, safely and appropriately". It was a lovely service - not overly sentimental yet warm and meaningful. And yes, I cried but I also laughed and yes, that really was okay.

It felt good to be in a place, where for a few hours, tears and joy were acceptable, were the norm, a place where you didn't have to worry about upsetting someone else or ruining their good time - because all of us were in the same boat.

There were tips and suggestions of ways to cope and make it through what is often one of the most difficult times of the year - it isn't just one day but a whole season. I took some of the pamphlets "I can't face the holidays!" to leave a couple in the lunchroom at work.

Friends and acquaintances, coworkers and even relatives often don't know what to say. Often we respond to "how are you" with "I'm okay". And there it ends, but what we might say instead is, "I'm doing okay but it is really difficult right now". To "If there is anything I can do, let me know", we might take them up on that. If you really want to have home baked goodies for example maybe invite the person over to help you bake one afternoon. Or let them take you out to the mall, go for coffee.

Grief saps our energies, our minds, our bodies and spirits. It's a time when we need to give ourselves permission to accept the gifts others offer us, to give ourselves permission to be happy and sad at the same time.

Many of us are going through that kind of time, grief is about loss after all. December is the time many of us, no matter what our faith, face the pressures and dilemas of celebration and feasting, to be seen going about life as if nothing has happened.

When we grieve, we need to remove as much of this pressure as we can. Change things if that makes it easier for us, change a lot, or a little or do things the same way. But talk it over with your family. Do whatever brings you ease and comfort.

It's okay to be sad and happy at the same time. You are not losing your mind. It is the season and the time. You will get through it.

I'm going to close this entry with one of the readings from that evening:

• In the rising of the sun and in its going down, we will remember them.
• In the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter, we will remember them.
• In the blueness of the sky and in the warmth of summer, we will remember them.
• In the rustling of leaves and in the beauty of autumn, we will remember them.
• In the beginning of the year and in its end, we will remember them.
• When we are weary and in need of strength, we will remember them.
• When we are lost and sick at heart, we will remember them.
• So long as we live, they shall live, for they are now a part of us, as we remember them.