Even though I don’t follow a specific religion, I have always been intrigued by the concept of faith. I have encouraged myself to believe in the positive energy available if we are open to it. During my husband’s illness, we held onto the idea of taith, hoping for strength and healing. After he died, I made a deliberate effort to discover and nurture the remaining spark of life within myself, which gravitates towards healing, whether we are conscious of it…
Liminal space is a gap or threshold between one thing ending and the beginning of another. While grieving my husband’s death, I initially found these seemingly empty periods disconcerting. I perceived myself as stalled or stuck, often facing the question of “What’s next?” with no answer in sight. However, with time, I saw these dormant periods as fertile ground for insight and change. The key was accepting the stillness and being patient with myself as I anticipated the next change….
Last week, while reorganizing the closet in my art studio, I found several boxes of greeting cards. One box contained every card my husband had sent me, and the other had every card I had sent him. We used to send each other many cards, and it made me realize how much I miss that connection we shared. Part of me wanted to keep every card, but another part knew that reorganizing was supposed to help me move forward with…
It has been essential for me to recognize and allow the uncomfortable and painful emotions triggered by grief. During therapy, we frequently discussed the challenge of acknowledging these emotions while striving to balance them with positives. I found this practice reassuring, whether grappling with sorrow, anger, or fear. I would state aloud what I felt and whatever positive emotion or quality I could pair with it.Some examples are:“I feel sad AND hopeful.” “I feel angry AND compassionate.”“I am afraid AND…
While I was in acute grief immediately following my husband’s death, it was vital for me to remember that though it was unimaginable at the time, I wouldn’t always be in such pain. I had to foster the belief that, at some point, there would be relief from the ever-present grip of loss and grief. Beginning with moments of lightness, then perhaps an hour or two, I began to see that my life would and could eventually emerge from the…
Among all the emotions connected with loss, anger was the most challenging. My husband, even when confronted with what turned out to be a terminal illness, told me that he seldom felt angry. He logically approached life, stating, “It’s just bad luck.” On the contrary, I found it difficult to accept the unfairness of his suffering and the randomness of the universe. In the months following his death, I felt both anger and grief. I often felt envious when I…
The journey of grieving and healing takes unexpected twists and turns. Painful triggers can appear just when we think we’re making progress. It was after one of these moments in my normally well-organized life that I created this piece. Just when I thought I was on the right track, I encountered an unexpected dead end. This loss added to the grief of my husband’s passing, making the situation feel overwhelming for a while. After shedding many tears, writing in my…
Kintsugi is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with varnish infused with gold. When I sewed this broken heart from red felt and stitched a golden seam to fix it, I was reminded of A Kintsugi Life, a website that had often inspired me. While pondering how my heart was healing, I remembered our family heirloom cookie jar, which my husband had repaired years ago. Examining the jar was a powerful reminder of his meticulous care in putting it…
I have found that gratitude is another antidote to overwhelm and despair. When I began my gratitude practice many years ago, I found inspiration in a little book titled “Attitudes of Gratitude” by M.J. Ryan. The book is packed with inspirational reading and notes on feeling grateful. Practicing gratitude every day has helped me immensely, even during the difficult times of my husband’s illness and passing. After drawing, coloring, and cutting out the pair of hands on this canvas, I…
I felt the need to gather positive thoughts fairly early in my grieving. The old expression “Feather Your Nest” kept coming to mind, so I composed this little poem to express my feelings. Feather a nest where your heart can restLined with blessings soft as down.Moisten with tears over the yearsYou are never truly alone. As I wrote the poem, I remembered a small nest I’d had leftover from a craft project years before. After covering a canvas square with…