Monday's Mourning Ministry - Music to Pierce the Heart

Monday's Mourning Ministry

Music to Pierce the Heart

~Lamentations of Jeremiah

I have had experiences in which music has "pierced my heart" … when nothing else could---especially, perhaps, in bereavement. 

I was passionately fond of my mother's sister, my Auntie Len; I often felt she had saved my sanity, if not my life, when I was sent away from home as a child, evacuated from London during the war. Her death left a sudden huge hole in my life, but, for some reason, I had difficulty mourning. I went about my work, my daily life, functioning in a mechanical way, but inside I was in a state of anhedonia, numbly unresponsive to all pleasure---and, equally, sadness. One evening I went to a concert, hoping against hope that the music might revive me, but it did not work; the whole concert bored me---until the last piece was played. It was a piece I had never heard before, by a composer I had never heard of, The Lamentations of Jeremiah by Jan Dismus Zelenke (an obscure Czech contemporary of Bach's, I later learned). Suddenly, as I listened, I found my eyes wet with tears. My emotions, frozen for weeks, were flowing once again. Zelenke's Lamentations had broken the dam, letting feeling flow where it had been obstructed, immobilized inside me.

~Oliver Sachs, in his book, Musicophilia: Tales of Music and the Brain

Lamentations of Jeremiah

~Jan Dismus Zelenke

arranged by Thomas Tallis

performed by The Sixteen Choir, 

directed by Harry Christophers

This is part one of his 'lamentations of Jeremiah' which sets to music the two first verses of Lamentations 1.

You will (read on the video and) hear the ensemble sing in Latin which will be translated for you below, with the English just below each Latin phrase or verse:

Incipit lamentatio leremiae prophetae

Here begins the lamentation of Jeremiah the prophet.

ALEPH: Quomodo sedet sola civitas plena populo!

Facta est quasi vidua domina gentium;

princeps provinciarum facta est sub tributo.

ALEPH: How lonely sits the city that was full of people!

How like a widow has she become,

she that was great among the nations!

She that was a princess among the cities has become a vassal.

BETH: Plorans ploravit in nocte,

et lacrimae ejus in maxillis ejus:

non est qui consoletur eam,

ex omnibus caris ejus;

omnes amici ejus spreverunt eam,

et facti sunt ei inimici.

BETH: She weeps bitterly in the night, 

tears on her cheeks;

among all her lovers she has none to comfort her;

all her friends have dealt treacherously with her,

they have become her enemies.

Jerusalem, convertere ad Dominum Deum tuum.

Jerusalem, turn again to the Lord your God.

~~~~~

Saturday's Sayings - Embracing Love... Embracing Grief

Saturday's Sayings

Embracing Love... Embracing Grief

In the end, love and grief are intertwined; we can't have one without the other. Grieving involves confronting the totality of our relationship with the person, along with all of our many and conflicting feelings; holding onto the good memories & joyful moments, grieving for what was and what wasn't and what could never be. At the end of grief, should come comfort, peace, and meaning. Sadness can remain but be diminished. A resolve to honor the memory of the person and bring aspects of their good character and qualities into one's own life helps to heal the pain.

~Melanie Greenberg, Ph.D.

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Grief is the price we pay for love.

~Queen Elizabeth II

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We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey.

~Kenji Miyazawa (1896-1933)

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When You Are Bereaved, It Is Alright to…

Scream in the shower.

Yell in the car.

Howl at the moon.

Cry anywhere you like.

Misplace your glasses.

Lose the car.

Forget your own name.

Put milk in the cupboard,

Toilet paper in the refrigerator,

And ice cream in the oven.

Beat up a pillow.

Stomp on the ground.

Throw stones in a lake.

Change grocery stores if it hurts.

Wear one black shoe and one navy.

Have tear stains on your tie.

Eat French fries for breakfast,

Toast for lunch,

And peanut butter for dinner

(as long as you eat).

Write him a letter.

Bake him a cake.

Smell his clothes.

Celebrate his life on his birthday.

Talk to your pets; they understand.

Leave his room the way it is

For as long as you like.

Say his name just to hear the sound.

Talk about him to others.

Tell loved ones what you need.

Say no when you feel like it.

Cancel plans if you want.

Have a bad day.

It’s alright to hurt.

And One Day, when you’re ready…

It’s alright to laugh again.

Dance and feel pretty.

Have a good time.

Look forward to tomorrow.

Sing in the shower.

Smile at a friend’s new baby.

Wear make-up once more.

Go for a day, a week,

And even a month without crying.

Celebrate the holidays.

Forgive those who failed you.

Learn something new.

Look at his pictures

And remember with happiness,

Not pain.

Go on with your life.

Cherish the memories.

And One Day when it’s time…

It’s alright

To love again.

~Vicki Tushingham

From the March issue of The Compassionate Friends Mid.TN newsletter

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Grief can't be shared. Everyone carries it alone. His own burden in his own way.

~Anne Morrow Lindbergh

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Outward appearances can be so deceiving. Even when people seem to be cold and heartless, you never know what might have happened to them to make them that way. Not saying it's right to be that way, but sometimes people build up thick walls just to keep from being hurt again. It takes courage and strength to not allow adversity to change you and make you hard.

~Grieving Mothers

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Open Letter to a Closed-Off Heart...

Dear one,

I know you are in there and just came by to say how much I love you and care. I just came to see if you would let me touch you or comfort you today. If hugs really had the power of healing you would be the most healed woman in the whole universe because I could hug you forever. If tears were nutritious and filling then you would never be hungry because I weep so many over your broken heart. If love truly changed everything for the better then you would be the envy of everyone because you are loved so much more than you can imagine.

There are so many things that I'm sure I can never truly understand about your pain, but I'd listen patiently to every word of explanation for the rest of my life if only you'd share them. You say you don't feel alive and nothing matters anymore, and I believe you. That much I understand and it breaks my heart into microscopic pieces. Your broken pieces are surely sharper and more numerous, but with a grief this enormous, who could count them? Who would weigh them?

Sometimes I wish that the screaming inside you could quiet down just enough so that you could hear my heart the way you used to hear it before the horrors came. I wish there was room enough inside the swollen space of your pain so that I could sit down next to you like an angel of mercy...watching over you, and attending to you during those few hours when you sleep deeply.

I want to say that if I could tell you anything it would be...but then there is so much I want to tell you. All of it means "I love you and I care" but some of it might seem selfish even though that is not what I mean to communicate. You see, I get it. I totally get that the the day your child died there were two deaths but only one funeral. I know you died that day...only not really...it's more like you are suffering right at the brink of death without the mercy of dying. That's the part you think I don't see, I guess. That's the part that kills me. It makes me die too. Your hurt can't be my hurt, but I assure you that I am carrying a piece of it that feels so heavy. I don't ever want to put it down because I don't want to let you down. I don't feel badly about carrying it. I just wish I could carry more and make it easier for you.

Because you are still alive, and because you have learned how to wear all the right masks to keep going, very few people know or see what's happened. There is no ceremony for the loss of the living. I want to scream at the top of my lungs for the world to hear, "Doesn't anyone see her? Doesn't anyone care that her heart is crushed? Isn't there anyone who can help her heal? Where are the paramedics for a broken heart????" But it would all be like so much white noise because everyone else believes you when you say you're OK. I know it's not their fault, but sometimes I hate them for believing you because maybe if they really knew things would get better. That's just one more thing I don't really know.

This much I do know with all my heart. Because I love you, I love your child and your sibling and everyone who has ever or will ever matter to you. I take the loss of your dear ones personally because I take you personally. Our stupid society that has most of the world convinced that grief and mourning are too private and too ugly to be out in the open, and that just sucks. The ancient Jews had it right. Torn garments. Sackcloth. Ashes. Corporate wailing. Ceremonial mourning. We need these things to help us stay together in the bad times. We need these things so that no one gets left behind...not you, and not me. We need these things so that the dead are properly honored and remembered because we all participated in the mourning without a time clock and without shame. If I could tear my clothes and grieve and wail at the city gate for you without being locked up in an institution, I would do it. You are so much less alone than you feel.

Don't feel sorry for making me part of your life only to have drawn me into this terrible suffering. If your child had lived we would have celebrated together. But because your child died, whether you let me in or not, we are mourning together. That's what love does. You are loved that much. I only wish you would let yourself feel it.

Praying with all my heart that you will open up to love soon...not just because I miss you, but because I think you are precious and should be loved grandly every minute of the day. That's how God feels toward you--only bigger and better--so why wouldn't I feel just the same?

I love you. I miss you. You're beautiful.

Your compassionate friend.

~contributed by Grieving Mothers

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Can I see another's woe, and not be in sorrow too? Can I see another's grief, and not seek for kind relief?

~William Blake

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Ḻife Їs Ḻike Å Ʀainbow ه ` ه ` ه `ه ` ه` ه

You Ñeed Ṱhe Sun , Ṱhe Ʀain ~ Ṱo Ḿake Їts Ĉolors Åppear

~grieving mother, Jill Compton

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Grief is a normal and natural response to loss. It is originally an unlearned feeling process. Keeping grief inside increases your pain.

~Ann Grant

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When it seems that our sorrow is too great

to be borne, let us think of the great family

of the heavy-hearted into which our grief

has given us entrance, and inevitably, we

will feel about us their arms, their

sympathy, their understanding.

~Helen Keller

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To the living, I am gone.

To the sorrowful, I will never return.

To the angry, I was cheated.

But to the happy, I am at peace, and

to the faithful I have never left.

I cannot be seen, but I can be heard.

So as you stand upon a shore, gazing at a beautiful sea

remember me.

As you look in awe at a mighty forest and its grand majesty remember me.

As you look upon a flower and admire its simplicity

remember me.

Remember me in your heart, your thoughts and your memories of the times we loved, the times we cried, the times we fought, the times we laughed.

For if you always think of me, I will never be gone.

~Donna Hale-Goforth

~Contributed Via Jill Compton

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Pictures, thanks to Grieving Mothers, Jill Compton, and The Compassionate Friends

Thursday's Therapy Writing About Grief? Closure, Schmozure!

Thursday's Therapy

Writing About Grief? Closure, Schmozure!

~Tommy and Angie Prince

Many therapists today often have it wrong about this notion of "saying 'Goodbye'" to a loved one, portraying that such an exercise could be helpful in that it would bring "closure" to the bereaved. Closure can't be packaged and wrapped up for the bereaved! Closure is something you do to a closet door (or to a therapist's mouth)! It is not something that can be attained, grabbed, or fulfilled by a bereaved parent! How can you wrap up the tiniest of memories that pop up in one's head at any given time of the day, the week, the month, or the year?

Some therapists would even argue that continuing to struggle with grief is because the griever hasn't adequately "said 'Goodbye'" to their loved one. Some suggest writing a letter to one's bereaved as a therapeutic intervention to provide such "closure."

But current research does not back up such a theory...

"Research so far has shown little evidence that written disclosure facilitates recovery from bereavement."

~(2009) Researchers* (highlights mine)

So, why is there even so much concern for "resolving" one's grief over a loved one?

Why is there so much concern that we "recover" from bereavement anyway?

In medicine, the dictionary says "resolve" means "to cause a symptom to disperse, subside, or heal."

Why does a therapist want to "resolve" someone's grief...like grief is a toxic symptom whose extinction would result in a "healthy" person?

I probably made that mistake (in my pre-Child-Loss days) when clients talked about their loved ones years after their loss and teared up while talking about them. I think I concluded,

"Oh, they didn't effectively grieve this years ago, so perhaps I can help them to get this grief out."

For me today, now that I am a grieving mother, I see that someone who might try to "bring closure" to my grief over my baby, essentially trying to "stop" my grief, is cruel!

Expecting "closure" for my grief would definitely be doing more harm than good to my aching soul. I do not think my grief will ever completely resolve this side of heaven; there will always be a longing for my baby until I see her again, until I can once again hold her in my arms.

All my intentions as a therapist (pre-Child-loss) for helping clients to "get their grief out" were not bad. I do think getting the grief out, meaning to get their grief expressed, was very good for them. But thankfully, I did not push the expectations on them that NOW, this grief should be done, over, caput.

However I probably did naively think that now they would be "much further along in their grief process." Maybe. Maybe not. But the expressing of the grief was still good. And I am so very glad that I did not push for a "successful conclusion" to the grief.

Though writing will not bring "closure" to our life-time grief process, I do think writing can be a comfort for us grievers. Our job as grievers is unfortunately that we must learn to "accept the unacceptable," or as Dr. Therese Rando, grief expert, says,

"We must continually bump up against the reality of their absence to begin to learn that they are not coming back."

We are put in the awful position of having to adapt to a harsh reality. But instead of "recovering" from grief, we are continually in a process of "integrating that harsh reality" into the fiber of our life today or else we couldn't cope with day-to-day life at all. The big key is we are having to "adapt" - we are NOT forcing ourselves to "recover" by "expecting our grief 'symptoms' to disperse, subside, or heal." So if our writing about our grief is helping us to express our grief, get in touch with our grief, and adapt our "new normal" lives to our unwanted loss, then the writing can be helpful. However, if we are seeking "closure" to our child-loss grief through writing, it's not going to happen.

The researchers' results did show some positive results to grievers writing out their grief as the results "showed that writing decreased feelings of emotional loneliness and increased positive mood, in part through its effect on rumination."

But in analyzing the results of their research, the researchers also readily concluded that regarding "written disclosure" of one's grief, such "writing DID NOT affect grief or depressive symptoms."

Longing for our child will continue, and that is normal. Don't let a therapist tell you that such grief or longing is unhealthy! Grief over our precious child will continue at varying levels for the rest of our lives.

Writing about our grief? Yes.

Expecting "closure"? No.

Picture thanks to photobucket.com

Current Research (2009) in Grief Therapy: http://bit.ly/bKTuHt ~

The efficacy of a brief internet-based self-help intervention for the bereaved,

* 2009 Researchers: Karolijne van der Houwen, Henk Schut, Jan van den Bout, Margaret Stroebe and Wolfgang Stroebe