Healing After a Deep and Painful Loss
The experience of past few months has caused me to dig deep into the sources of my being in order to learn from the experience of a deep and painful loss. I had been married to my high school sweetheart for 52 years when he was taken from me by a lethal and rare cancer. We were fortunate, because we had a remarkable life together and had precious time to prepare for his departure. We read many books on death and dying, we watched films on the subject, we prayed together and were comforted by an amazing group of friends who held us in sanctuary while we prepared for the end. After he passed away, my family and I carried out the wishes he had for his memorial service and the immediate letting go of his spirit. It was all an amazing, loving and very memorable time for all of us to be held in love together.
After all of the usual aftermath of a death of a loved one—taking care of all of the logistics in reporting a death to so many differing organizations and people, taking care of so much paperwork, and endless details, the truth of my situation hit me. I was alone for the first time in my life. I felt empty, lonely, shattered, and hardly knew which way to turn. I was literally in a fog…not able to think clearly, to see a future path, or even be able to speak of my emptiness and sad feelings. My usual happiness was gone forever it seemed. I felt it would never return.
Friends, family and colleagues were there to comfort me and provide generous compassion, but it didn’t seem to fill the void. I was grateful for their company and felt very cared for, but I knew the path forward depended on me and only me. I would have to give myself time and permission to feel the deepest pain, to write of my feelings, and to commune with all the angels in the invisible world, including my husband who could better understand what I was going through and guide me to a better place. This intentional process helped. I went back to a regular meditation practice again, seeking new ways to release my pain, and clear my foggy brain.
I have learned to give myself permission to get massages, to go on long hikes in nature, to take a pilgrimage trip to Ireland to be with the landscape, to listen to beautiful soul music, and to simply be silent in the midst of the fog. I know it takes time to begin again. I need to wait for the murkiness to clear in order to see the new vision that is just beyond. I am moving slowly and surely, keeping my eyes open for shapes of that vision to emerge from the haze. However, I find that by looking within and listening carefully to my own stillness I am able to gain clarity and new sight.
By trusting the divine within, I feel myself being guided gently into new light. The sunshine in my life is burning away the fog, and I am being led to a much deeper appreciation of life and death and all that it has to teach me. Recently, in doing the most mundane chore of washing windows, I felt a new surge of happiness return. I realize now that it isn’t gone forever. There is new hope in my future, and I am gently embracing the process of putting the shattered pieces back together again, feeling strength in what I see ahead. The fog is lifting! Hallelujah!