Over the years I have wondered if I actually have any emotions.  Besides anger.  When my grandparents, one by one, passed away (one is still alive at about 90) I know I should have felt more than I did.  I’m embarrassed to say that even when I lost my father I didn’t grieve overly much, though maybe that’s because of how he died.  It wasn’t sudden but spread out over weeks.  I guess I did experience more during the drawn out days, but never the extent that I often see in others.

No one passed away this time, so what’s going on?  Well, it started the weekend before last.  Eight days ago.  Following the message by our campus pastor (the senior pastor was on sabbatical and returned this past weekend) the associate pastor went up to give an announcement.  A very discouraging announcement.  It would be inappropriate for me to go into the details but it turned out our children’s pastor, a man who I called friend for several years now had to resign and was gone from our campus.  I had just spoken to him the week before, as had many people, and we never knew what would become the basis of the announcement.  Nothing illegal by the way, so don’t let your thoughts go there friends.

So he is suddenly gone and I may never see him again.  I do know from what another pastor mentioned during our children’s leadership meeting that he and his wife are doing okay, attending another church, and definitely in contact with at least that one pastor.  The discussion about him, the “elephant in the room” during a meeting where as far as everyone knew he would be too just eight or nine days prior, was yet an emotional one for our family pastor who will be taking on the duties he gave up to the now-former pastor several years ago once again.

He’s grieving.  I’m grieving.  But no one died.  Yet things won’t be the same.  Can I call him?  I have his number.  I called him friend at church, but I never saw him outside of church.  Not appropriate then?  I don’t know what I would even say if I called.  Perhaps the best thing is what our pastor said to us- just pray for him and his family.

Okay, it’s proven, I have emotion- now when will this feeling go away?

Sometimes I get inspiration from my little posts on facebook. Sometimes I get inspiration for little posts on facebook from my blog. This is a bit of both.

A blog post with the above title was started on the 20th of May. Five days later, I think the original thoughts are finally gelling. All from a facebook post I made yesterday.

I don’t know your pain. I only know my own. I can, however, listen when you need it, advise when you want it, and care for you always, because I call you friend.

There it is. The original idea behind this was that I have a number of friends going through some difficult times right now. I was able to listen to their description of pain and sorrow. I offered a bit of advice when asked. And through it all I think I became a better person.

It takes a lot to try to ignore or temper your own sorrows when dealing with the problems of others. Your problems. sorrows, worries are of the utmost importance to you. Nothing can be bigger or more intense than the situation you are in . These are your feelings and are rightfully justified.

That being said, if a person shares their situation with you, their problems are going to be bigger than yours, at least in their eyes. To be a truly caring individual, you need to look past your problems and listen to what your friend needs to share. There are times when this cannot be done. In those times, you should beg the others indulgence and say you are at best willing to listen, but advice would not be the best from you right now. Good friends will be able to understand this. There is never a good time to be in a war of who has the worse problems.

And through all of this, maybe you will be able to see that other peoples problems can be bigger and even more intense than your own. Then we come to true understanding of the people we share our lives with.

And that leads me to one of my favorite movie quotes. From the movie “Harvey”:

Elwood P. Dowd: Harvey and I sit in the bars… have a drink or two… play the juke box. And soon the faces of all the other people they turn toward mine and they smile. And they’re saying, “We don’t know your name, mister, but you’re a very nice fella.” Harvey and I warm ourselves in all these golden moments. We’ve entered as strangers – soon we have friends. And they come over… and they sit with us… and they drink with us… and they talk to us. They tell about the big terrible things they’ve done and the big wonderful things they’ll do. Their hopes, and their regrets, and their loves, and their hates. All very large, because nobody ever brings anything small into a bar. And then I introduce them to Harvey… and he’s bigger and grander than anything they offer me. And when they leave, they leave impressed. The same people seldom come back; but that’s envy, my dear. There’s a little bit of envy in the best of us.

There are times we recall those we have lost. These times can cause tears or laughter. Don’t fight the tears, don’t live in the laughter. Doing either will cause us to forget the past and ignore the present and then we will miss the future.

A facebook post for today. These thoughts and the thoughts of my children this weekend push me to expand on the above. (Somebody push Froggy to read this!!) 😉

I’m almost certain it was a tough weekend for all of my daughters. I was with the youngest all day yesterday, so she did have a bit of comfort on mothers’ day itself. The other 3, well I still have a hard time being in multiple places at once. I did make the effort to see the 3 I could, but not enough effort to talk to number 4. Sorry K.

With all of the heartache from the past year. All of the Joy felt. And the new situations we found ourselves in, I am offering some of my thoughts and words.

On mother’s day, my daughters found themselves 6 years without their mother. They were all too young to lose someone so important in their lives. I am not, and will never be a suitable replacement. I just try, with all my human failings, to be the best Dad I can be. Remember her in your hearts. Share your stories with each other. You share that common loss. If there is anyone that you should talk to, it should be your sisters. You know each other, and could comfort each other if you wish.

Don’t fight the tears, the anger, or even the joy you feel when thinking of those you lost. Yes, you should curb your responses to some feelings. Good social contact almost demands it. But try to recognize those feelings. If you need to yell and scream, be open about it. Tell people why you are mad. Try not to take these feelings out on others, but share them. Let the tears fall, if someone asks why, share the reason. It is much easier for us as people to share the good times. WE MUST make the effort to share the hard times with people. Good friends will support us in that. Of course you may not want to share those hard times with the wrong people (social graces, covering your back, ect.).

Don’t be totally consumed by the past. This is a very hard one (I know from experience). At some point the past has to become the past. For each of us that is a different time. In fact, from day to day it may be different. Let it go when you are able. Again, look for help.

I don’t pretend to know all you are going through. You are all different. You are all in different situations. I know what it is like to lose my parents, but that came after I had many years to share with them, and I was on my own. I don’t know what it was like to have a depressed widowed father responsible for me. I don’t know what it was like for you not to have your mother there for you on the important days of your life. I only know what it was like not to have 1/2 of me available at those same times.

Know that I will listen and offer advice (unless you tell me to just listen) and I love you all. I’m only a phone call or two away. And one more thing, ask your sisters if they have read this.

If you were in NW Ohio, NE Indiana or Southern Michigan today, you probably had beautiful fall weather. Warm without being too hot, nice breeze and wispy clouds. And I noticed that some of the leaves have started to change color. We are still a few weeks off from most trees turning red, gold and brown, but it is starting. Some of the early changers have started too lose their leaves. Just a beautiful time…

Except, I still remember the good days from 6 years ago. The days before the intense shoulder pain slowed my wife’s days to a crawl. The good days that soon turned ugly.

I remember that it was about now that I should be holding my new grandson. But the days turned ugly.

I remember the last few days of my Mom’s life from many years ago now. She didn’t know what was coming her way in the waining days of October 2000. And my father, one year later, going through things that I didn’t understand then, but I really do understand them now. While his health wasn’t very good when mom died, he could have lived many years with a bit of luck. My feeling is that his heart broke at the one year mark, and nothing would fix that. After my stress related illnesses of my first few years of being a widower, I can tell you that that takes a toll.

All this happened in those beautiful days of fall. For the past 5 years, I didn’t see much of the beauty. I realized it was there, but other thoughts would push the beauty of the season out of my thoughts. The older thoughts don’t weigh as heavily on my mind now, and for a moment I saw the beauty of the day. Then I noticed my arms were empty…. My daughter and son-in-law have empty arms too. And I wonder when will I see fall again, without its ever present shadow?

In early March of 2004, I was introduced to the terminology ‘grief monster’. This was a term used by other widows and widowers to indicate their feelings after loss. Using the words grief monster seemed to indicate a battle needed to be fought with grief. I didn’t think that was the case then and I don’t think it is the case now.

With a new loss, feelings of grief are again merging with my life. I think that the feelings of grief are there for a reason. Grief is a coping mechanism. While grief isn’t a comfortable feeling, it should be welcomed. We need time to deal with sadness and loss.

The intensity and duration of our feelings of grief indicate where we are in our grief journey. Since people are different, the length and duration of our journeys are also different. The only way we know how far we’ve come is to look at how we feel grief.

In these difficult times of loss, I’ve seen grief as a friend. Not always a friend I want around, but as a needed friend. Tears, anger, frustration are all tools to handle our loss. To fight these feelings, as if fighting a monster, would be counterproductive to help they can bring.

Grief can and will come at unexpected times. These times may be inconvenient or embarrassing, but they need to be accepted. As an adult male, I have been taught to harness my feelings. I found that after my wife’s death, I no longer do this. If tears are needed, tears will be shed. I no longer shy away from my emotions. It has helped with my healing.

There has been new loss in my life. Another grief journey has begun. The road is the same, but different. It is a journey not taken alone, but with the help of others.

********************

A journey begins with one step; a good journey begins with one step reaching for another’s hand.

On Tuesday I was on my way to a job and had to choose a route to take.  One of the routes, the one I didn’t pick, was blocked with police tape and vehicles, which I found out when I passed it taking the other route.  Like accidents and such I pass from time to time, I wondered if I would see it in the paper tomorrow whatever it was.  I found out much more quickly than that.  When I arrived at the school, I signed in and took note of an article someone had laid out, printed from the local paper’s website.  A fire had claimed the lives of a mother and a fifth-grade boy that very morning.  The dad, who is said to have set the fire due to financial problems, would die in the hospital a day later.  Being closer to the school I was at than any other school in the district I figured I would be dealing with more than teaching today because guess what- I was subbing for fifth grade.  As it turned out, while this school was closer the main road was a dividing line so in fact he went to a different school.  I guess they didn’t want kids to have to cross the busy road.  For me that meant not having kids who needed to be consoled, but now the ones at the other school would be the ones involved in the crisis counseling.  The fire wasn’t even mentioned where I was, but I can bet today this school had some counselors on hand since after all, the family lived only about a half-mile away.  There were two surviving children.  I pray that they get the help they need to be able to move forward.  I am not sure if I ever subbed in the fifth-grader’s class.  His name isn’t familiar, but I think I may recognize him, but maybe not- I have been with hundreds of different kids after all.  One thing is for sure though, I will never be subbing in his class again.

May God comfort those two kids who are now parentless and minus one sibling.  Peace to them.  Typically I don’t identify the districts I sub in, but this news deserves a couple of links:

Officials look to cause of fire that killed members of ‘perfect family’

Police: Kevin Finnerty left suicide note, started fire

This is one of the strange seasons of the year. I’ve always enjoyed Halloween with all the ghouls, goblins and ghosts associated with it. But this time of year also brings to mind some very sad memories.

In 2000, just prior to Halloween, my my mother passed away. In 2001, just after Halloween, my father passed away. In 2003 around Halloween, my wife was struggling with all sorts of problems that a cause could not be determined. She died before the start of the New Year. Sad thoughts sometimes fill my mind at this time of year, and will haunt my thought through the end of the year.

Will these thoughts be with me 100% of the time? Not anymore. Time does, after a fashion, heal all wounds. What they never tell you is that you may not like the way you heal. Break a bone and you may have re-occurring pain whenever the weather changes. Lose a loved one and you my feel that grief sneak back in when you least expect it.

When the fall leaves start changing and falling on the ground, I tend to thing a lot about my father. This was the time of year we spent cutting down trees and moving wood. We did this together because it made the job a bit easier. It is still hard work, but we were able to laugh and joke during it. Laughter makes light work.

Sunday afternoons, I sometimes find myself thinking of my mother. Sunday dinners with the family were always a welcome addition to the day.

There are many times, places and events that bring back memories of my wife. Watching our daughters is one of those events. While other see my my features in my daughters, I tend to see their mother’s features. That is sometimes uncanny.

The smell of baking apples, or hot cider remind me of my wife. Hot tea at night remind me of her also. I could spend days writing about all the things that remind me of her.

All of these memories, plus memories of other loved ones who are no longer with us, are generally good memories. They are, however, memories tinged with a bit of sadness. Things that won’t happen again. Places in the past that just live in the corners of my mind. Sadness that new things won’t happen. There are no new stories to tell about them.

This weekend, my youngest will be involved in her school’s show choir. They are giving a show for some group. I’m not even sure yet if I can see it. This is something her grandparents, and mother would be waiting to see. The stories of the show would be family conversation for a good long time. There are many voices that have been silenced. I miss their viewpoints.

There may be more “memory” posts to come, who knows where or when this mood will hit…

Today touched on many memories for me. Today I went to a funeral to support someone I’ve known for a few years. I knew him through the theater and her through church. Our interests, outside of the community theater are different. Even our views in the theater are different, but today that makes little difference to me. Today we share a common bond. Today we are both widowers. Will that make us close friends, not likely, but I guess it could happen. Things like that happen everyday, but it isn’t what I mean.

He is at the very start of his journey of widow/erhood. I’ve been on the journey for 4 years and almost 8 months. We became brothers in the same journey. It is very much a journey. The trouble is that, as in life, we all journey this path in our own way. Today, I offered any support I could give. I made this offer from my heart. I know as well as any man could some of the things that will occur for him in the next few days, weeks and months. But I don’t know how he will approach or handle the events that will happen. I can only be around to listen. It is a lonely journey that he faces. A journey where you take help when you find it, but all the choice you make must be the right choices for yourself.

The funeral was in the church my wife and I attended for over 10 years before she died. She had many wonderful talents, and the church was her place to share them. I see her touch in many areas of this church. Things have changed, but they remain the same.

The funeral was for a lady that also touched the church in many ways. She had been there for close to 30 years. For years to come her legacy will remain with the church. Things have changed, but they remain the same.

Today a saw again a sister in the same journey. She lost her husband a year before I lost my wife. We still have that bond. It unites and separates us. Grieving is different for all.

People dying at much too early an age. But then again, I see where I’ve been and I have a sense of where I am heading. Not the life I would have chosen, but the one I was given. Mine to do what I can. Things have changed, but they remain the same.

When i can I offer support to those on this journey. The best support I can offer is that I have been on the journey. There are many lights to guide you on the path. Many come before, and many follow. Drop a light every now and again to guide those who follow. Follow the lights of those that when before….