Grief and its expressions

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Permalink Reply by DoubleChai.com, LLC on November 5, 2007 at 1:51pm

Irene,
Thank you for sharing this with your fellow members. It is really wonderful and I hope it inspires other members to use creative expression to heal. We all look forward to seeing and reading more from you in the near future.
Be well,
Harry

Harry B. Cook
Executive Director
DoubleChai.com
http://www.doublechai.com

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Permalink Reply by Irene Konig on November 5, 2007 at 3:47pm

Hi, this is Irene again. I also wanted to mention, that probably due to the great loneliness, I pushed myself last year into making my once a month free email newsletter a reality. I had been thinking of doing this for a couple of years before my husband passed away, and about a year and a half after he passed away, it did happen. I decided to get more serious about things, and felt that I ought to heed Rabbi Hillel's words "If not now, when?"
So I found out what I needed to find out, and started bravely with my email newsletter in March of 2006. I am still writing these newsletters, and inviting people who I meet and feel comfortable with, to join my list on Constant Contact. Not everyone who signed up does read it, but many do, and they come over and thank me, and I really feel that I am adding something to the world in a way that only I can add it.
I write about my reflections on life, and how I view the happenings of the month, and any other tidbit of information that I think is well worth thinking about. I also bring my artworks into it, and feature a couple with each newsletter to explain how that relates to what I am writing about.
If any of you Doublechais would like to get this free newsletter once a month, just let me know your name and your email address.
If my young adult daughter happens to be directing a play, in addition, I send one postcard mail out, really for the Austin folks, to encourage them to attend. So far , the ones who have come, have really enjoyed the plays. My daughter who is 23, is a director, and started a dramatic production company, here in Austin, with her friend from the University of Oklahoma. So far, so good. I am trying to be a supportive Jewish mother, and encourage her whenever I can, although she is fairly independent in her thinking.
So if you would like to be on my list, please let me know. Irene

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Permalink Reply by Michael Jesse Chonoles on November 8, 2007 at 12:21am

Beautiful art. My wife would have really liked it.Thank you. Michael

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Permalink Reply by DoubleChai.com, LLC on November 22, 2007 at 12:32pm

Hi Everyone,
I wanted to share a piece written by Lois Goldrich nearly a year after her husband passed away (two years ago). Lois is an editor at The Jewish Standard and she graciously offered us permission to repost her essay on DoubleChai.com.
Be well,
Harry

Please visit The Jewish Standard.

+Last Word+

The unobserved life

LOIS GOLDRICH

According to my grief chart, I have passed through the stages of Shock, Numbness, and Disorganization and am in a period of Reorganization, with occasional peacefulness. That seems about right, except for the peacefulness.

In fact, rest eludes me, and jobs I previously shunned absolutely demand my attention at strange hours. Tackle mold and mildew at midnight? Why not!

It’s amazing what one can accomplish when no one is watching.

That’s what loss is all about.

Over the past 11 months, since losing my husband of 30 years, I have experienced a wide range of emotions -- some expected, some not. One of the hardest to digest is the realization that my life is not being reflected in anyone else’s eyes.

I have tracked my progress on the “evolution of grief” chart given me by a therapist, now magnetically attached to my refrigerator (the chart, not the therapist); I have spoken my grief aloud to others; and I have listened intently as others, in similar pain, have spoken the same words back to me.

What remains after all the hard work is aloneness. Not necessarily loneliness, but singleness.

A spouse is a witness to your life. Not always a cheerleader, not someone to rubber stamp your opinions, and not someone without issues of his own. A witness, plain and simple.

Sometimes, someone says something that resonates so strongly with your feelings that you say, out loud, “yes, I know.” That’s what happened when I suggested at my bereavement group that I was no longer a fact of someone else’s life. No longer anyone’s priority.

That touched a nerve.

The other women “got it” when I said that there was no one to listen to me compare the relative merits of household products or characters in TV shows, or to listen (even with one ear) to my rants about inconsiderate drivers.

They understood and gave voice to our common dislike of the word “widow,” since the image it conjures bears no relation to our collective self-image. We don’t perceive ourselves as objects of pity – even though the Bible makes us a protected group.
(I suggested we try the label “WINO,” Widows In Name Only. We all liked it but haven’t had the guts to describe ourselves that way to others.)

A better way to describe ourselves, although it doesn’t have an acronym, is as individuals who are living unobserved.

My grief chart says I should be encouraged to “re-enter life’s mainstream,” that I should be “treated as normal.”

To do this, I will have to be my own witness. I will have to watch myself try out things I did in the past to see if they still fit.

Do I still like to sing? Do I still want to ride my bicycle? Watch “West Wing”? Eat tofu? When no one is watching, do I still like to polish my nails, wear funky earrings, and aim for an Annie Hall look in my clothing?

We survive through the kindness of others – family, friends, colleagues. We thrive through an effort of will.

We need to rediscover the things that made us who we are and, bit by bit, restore them to our lives. If that means stocking up on mystery novels (with female protagonists) and trying to assemble 1000-piece jigsaw puzzles, then so be it. If it means setting out on new adventures with new friends, then let the journey begin.

And, if I end up slightly different than I was before, chances are my kids will still love me, my friends will continue to tolerate my company, and my colleagues will adjust to my personality in progress.

At least I hope so.

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Permalink Reply by Irene Konig on November 22, 2007 at 8:07pm

Hi , so much of what you said is so true. I have gone through these stages, and sometimes I still go through them. I remember that in the beginning, I couldn't decide if I was still single or married, and that feeling kept up for close to two years after my husband was gone. Now it is the third year, and I am beginning to re assemble myself and see who I am going to be.

There are no witnesses to our aloneness except what we share with others, and it is good to have friends that can understand this , even though they are not widows themselves. For me, the title feels correct. After thirty years of being a couple, you are a widow. We are not coming from the same place as divorced people. It is different, even though we may arrive at the same place as divorced people.


It is a long hard road. I think in some ways, we become more precious to our children , who don't want to be orphans, even though they are young adults. I noticed this in my own family. We have to learn to give sage advice to our children, and also learn to hold back on giving advice. It is a delicate balance. We try to be mother and father, but we can only be what we can be.


There are so many new skills to learn, things that our husbands did for us naturally. Now it is up to us. There are still things in this house that I cannot identify: I don't know their names or functions. Often I show these things to a neighbor and find out what they are, and if he can use them, I just give them away. I don't have the physical strength to use a lot of them, nor the skill. There are technical things that I often don't know how to do, and then I pay for someone's expertise.

It is really re shaping a new life, a major transformation. And there is no timetable to really follow as to when to do what, as we emerge into the social world again. I think it is something that we just have to sense within ourselves. Sometimes we will try something out and see if it feels right or not; if not, we just have to step back .
Holidays are hard, and even sometimes going to services, and hearing a particular song we used to enjoy with our spouses.


I am actively trying to keep in better touch with old friends and new ones to create a new kind of family for myself. Even if it is just by phone or email. I think our spirit needs to come back into the world of the living when we are ready .


I feel that this is a good forum. The only thing we have here in Austin is a Grief support group, which was very good in the beginning. I could still attend, and tried last year, but the women in this group had moved on at a faster pace, and I just was not where they were. So it was not for me at that time.

So it is nice to have this kind of a forum. Irene

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Permalink Reply by debby on October 9, 2009 at 12:55am

Very fine ! This is right way to go and calmdown the stress after the death of your husband. This is really appreciated. It is quite good for your wellbeing and health. You can be heatthy both physically and mentally. Your activities are definately useful to avail by other people in grief. sympathy words

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