Saturday's Sayings - Our Love Never Dies

A child's Love never dies ~

and neither does her mother's . . .

Saturday's Sayings

Our Love Never Dies

Grief is not a disease,

It is not an illness.

It is not depression.

It is, in fact

an expression

of love.

Grief can only be a disease 

if Love is.

~Dr. Joanne Cacciatore~

~via Wings of Hope-Living Forward

~~~~~

The After Loss Credo
˙·٠•●♥ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ♥●•٠·

I need to talk about my loss.
I may often need to tell you what happened -
or to ask you why it happened.
Each time I discuss my loss, I am helping myself
face reality of the death of my loved one.
I need to know that you care about me.
I need to feel your touch, your hugs.
I need you just to be with me (and I need to be with you).
I need to know you believe in me and in my
ability to get through my grief in my own way
(and in my own time).

Please don't judge me now -
or think that I'm behaving strangely.
Remember I'm grieving.
I may even be in shock.
I may feel afraid. I may feel deep rage.
I may even feel guilty. But above all, I hurt.
I'm experiencing pain unlike any I've ever felt before.
Don't worry if you think I'm getting better
and then suddenly I seem to slip backward.
Grief makes me behave this way at times.
And please don't tell me you "know how I feel,"
or that it's time for me to get on with my life.
(I am probably already saying this to myself).

What I need now is time to grieve and to recover.
Most of all, thank you for being my friend.
Thank you for your patience.
Thank you for your caring.
Thank you for helping, and understanding.
Thank you for praying for me.
And remember, in the days or years ahead,
After your loss - when you need me
as I needed you - I will understand.
And then I will come and be with you.

~via Grieving Mothers

~~~~~

From all that was familiar, I broke away.

"Now I am lost, without a place, wandering."

With no music like a fool I dance and clap my hands.

How am I to live without you?

You are everywhere but

I cannot see You. 

~Rumi

~via Grieving Mothers

~~~~~

~via Grieving Mothers

~~~~~

You've just walked on ahead of me
And I've got to understand
You must release the ones you love
And let go of their hand.
I try and cope the best I can
But I'm missing you so much.
If I could only see you
And once more feel your touch.
You've just walked on ahead of me
Don't worry I'll be fine
But now and then I swear
I feel Your hand slip into mine.

~Grieving Mother, Jill Compton

~~~~~

~thanks to Grieving mother Jackie Wergin-Trudeau via Wings Lead

~~~~~

Light a Candle

Light a candle,

See it glow,

Watch it dance,

When you feel low.

Think of me,

Think of light,

I'll always be here,

Day or night.

A candle flickers

Out of sight,

But in your heart,

I still burn bright.

Think not of sadness

That I'm not near;

Think of gladness,

And joyous cheer.

I have not gone,

I'm here to stay,

My loved one.

So when you light a candle

And you see it glow,

And you watch it dance,

In your heart you'll know

That I would never leave you

Even when you feel so blue.

I'm sitting up here with the Lord

And now watching over you.

~~~~~~

Hush Little Angel

Hush little angel, close your eyes

Fold those wings in tight

Way up in heaven above the skies

Oh what a beautiful sight.

Hush little angel, nestle right in

Your bed so cosy and warm

Living in heaven where there's no sin

And you can suffer no harm.

Hush little angel, don't you cry

God is really close, you know

He hears every whimper and sigh

And will always cuddle you close.

Hush little angel, Muma's near

She's just a heartbeat away

Hush little angel, never fear

You're in her heart to stay.

~xxfaithxx

~via Angels on Loan

~~~~~

Friday's Faith - The Work of Love in Remembering One Dead - "The Most Faithful Love" ~Søren Kierkegaard - Part Four of Four

"If we are to love the men we see, then we are also to love those whom we have seen but see no more because death took them away.... 

"(O)ne must remember the dead; 

weep softly, but grieve long."

Friday's Faith

The Work of Love in Remembering One Dead

"The Most Faithful Love"

~Søren Kierkegaard

(1813 - 1855)

Part Four of Four

"Beloved, let us love one another.

1 John 4:7a (NASB)

The work of love in remembering one dead is a work of the most faithful love.

In order to properly test whether or not love is faithful, one eliminates everything whereby the object could in some way aid him in being faithful. But all this is absent in the relationship to one who is dead, one who is not an actual object. If love still abides, it is most faithful. 

Not infrequently there is talk about the lack of faithfulness in love among human beings. Then one blames the other and says, "It was not I who changed; it was he who changed." Good. And then what? Do you then remain unchanged? "No, as a consequence I naturally change too." We shall not here point out how meaningless this presumably necessary consequence is, whereby it follows of itself that I change because another changes. No, we are speaking of the relationship to one dead, and here it cannot be said that it was the one dead who changed. If an alteration enters into this relationship, I must be the one who changes. 

Therefore, if you will test whether or not you love faithfully, note some time how you relate yourself to one who is dead.

But the situation is this: it is certainly a difficult task to maintain oneself unchanged throughout time; the situation is also this: that human beings love to deceive themselves by all sorts of imaginings more than they love both the living and the dead. O, how many do not live in the conviction so firm that they would die for it---that if the other person had not changed, he, too, would have remained unchanged. 

But if this is so, is every living person in fact completely unchanged in relationship to one who is dead? O, perhaps in no relationship is the change so remarkable, so great, as that between one living and one dead---although the one dead is nevertheless not the one who changes. 

When two living persons are joined in love, each holds onto the other and the relationship holds on to both of them. But no holding together is possible with one who is dead. Immediately after death it perhaps can be said that he holds on to one, a consequence of the relationship together, and therefore it is also the most frequent occurrence, the customary thing, that he is remembered during this time. However, in the course of time he does not hold on to the one living, and the relationship is broken if the one living does not hold on to him. 

But what is faithfulness? Is it faithfulness that the other holds on to me? 

When death interposes separation between the two, the survivor---faithful during the first period---says, "I shall never forget him who is dead." O, how uncircumspect, because the one who is dead is a canny one to talk with, only that his cunning is not like that of the person of whom it is said, "You never find him where you left him," for the canniness of the one dead consists precisely in this, that one does not get him back again from where one left him. We are often tempted to think that men believe they can say to the dead just about what they wish, in view of the fact that he is dead, hears nothing, and answers nothing. But---but---take the greatest care of all for what you say to one who is dead. Perhaps you can say quite calmly to one living, "You I will never forget." And after a few years have passed, both of you probably will have good and well forgotten the whole thing---at least it would be unusual if you were unfortunate enough to meet up with a less forgetful person. But watch out for the dead! For one who is dead is a resolute and determined man; he is not like the rest of us who are able in fairytale fashion to go through many droll experiences and seventeen times forget what we have said. 

When you say to one dead, "You I will never forget," it is as if he answered you, "Good, rest assured that I shall never forget that you have said this." 

And even though all your contemporaries would assure you that he had forgotten it: from the lips of the dead you shall never hear this. No, he goes his own way---but he is unchanged. You will not be able to say to one dead that he was the one who grew older and that this explains your altered relationship to him---for one who is dead does not get older. You shall not be able to say to one who is dead that he was the one who in the course of time grew cold---for he has not become colder than he was when you were so warm, or that he was the one who became less attractive for which reason you could love him no more for he has become essentially no less attractive than when he was a beautiful corpse, something which does not, however, lend itself as the object of love, or that he was the one who has made new associations with others---for one dead does not make associations with others. 

No, whether or not you will begin again where you two left off, one who is dead begins again with the most scrupulous accuracy where the two of you left off. For one who is dead is a strong man, although one does not see this in him: he has the strength of unchangeableness. And one who is dead is a proud man. Have you noticed that a proud person, particularly in relationship to one he scorns most deeply, tries very hard to give no hint, to appear completely unchanged, to let the matter be as nothing, thereby to permit the despised one to sink deeper and deeper---only the one cherished by the proud person is benevolently made aware of the injustices, of errors, in order thereby to be assisted towards improvement. But one who is dead---who is proudly able as he to give no hint at all, even if he despises the one living who forgets him and his goodbye promise---one who is dead still does everything to make himself forgotten! One dead does not come to you and remind you; he does not look at you in passing; you never meet him; and if you were to meet him and see him, there would be nothing involuntary in his countenance which against his will could betray what he thought and judged of you, for one dead has his countenance under control. We should be truly careful about poetically drawing forth the dead for the sake of remembrance; the most frightful of all is that one dead gives no hint at all. 

Beware, therefore, of the dead! Beware of his kindness; beware of his definiteness, beware of his strength; beware of his pride! 

But if you love him, then remember him lovingly, and learn from him, precisely as one who is dead, learn the kindness in thought, the definiteness in expression, the strength in unchangeableness, the pride in life which you would not be able to learn as well from any human being, even the most highly gifted.

One who is dead does not change; there is not the slightest possibility of excuse by putting the blame on him; he is faithful. Yes, it is true. But he is nothing actual, and therefore he does nothing, nothing at all, to hold on to you, except that he is unchanged. If, then, a change takes place between one living and one dead, it is very clear that it must be the one living who has changed. On the other hand, if no change takes place, it is, then, the one living who in truth has been faithful, faithful in lovingly remembering him---alas, although he could do nothing at all to hold on to you, alas, although he did everything to show that he had forgotten you and what you had said to him. For no person who has really forgotten what one had said to him can express more definitely than one who is dead that it is forgotten, that the whole relationship to him, the whole affair with him, is forgotten. 

The work of love in remembering one who is dead is thus a work of the most disinterested, the freest, the most faithful love. Therefore, go out and practise it; remember one dead and learn in just this way to love the living disinterestedly, freely, faithfully. 

In the relationship to one dead you have the criterion whereby you can test yourself. One who uses this criterion will with ease abbreviate the prolixity of the most complicated relationship, and he will learn to loathe the mass of excuses which actual life usually has right at hand to explain that it is the other person that is selfish, the other person who is guilty of being forgotten because he does not bring himself into remembrance, the other person who is faithless. 

Remember one who is dead, and in addition to the blessing which is inseparable from this work of love, you will also have the best guidance to rightly understanding life: that it is one's duty to love the men we do not see, but also those we do see.  

Our duty to love the men we see cannot be set aside because death separates them from us, for the duty is eternal; but consequently our duty toward the dead cannot separate our contemporaries from us so that they do not remain objects of our love.

Thursday's Therapy - Our Children Don't Deserve This!

Thursday's Therapy

Our Children Don't Deserve This!

Katie Granju, the writer of this article, is a Grieving Mother friend of mind who lives a few miles from me here in Knoxville, yet whom I met online along with many of the other precious grieving mothers I now know. Today, Huffington Post featured Katie's article about the devastating war with drugs that many of our own children, including hers, have gotten caught up in and have had to battle. Many of us are losing our beautiful young children, barely adults to these underground movements of which most of us parents were fairly oblivious before it became too late for our child. 

Just this week, I met through my blog a beautiful soul who commented on my blog that despite a healthy normal home in which she raised her darling child, she lost her beautiful daughter to a heroine overdose soon after going together to purchase her daughter's wedding gown. Another precious mother and father in a town not far from here just lost their beautiful daughter in a similar way, yet now the developing story, like Henry's, is involving much deeper, darker crimes than we even know are going on, perpetrated on these precious young people. Thank you for your love and support for all these grieving families.

Katie Allison Granju

Blogger, MamaPundit

Death By Prescription Drugs: How Dare You Say My Son "Deserved" It

Posted: 09/03/2012 2:44 pm

Shadow Conventions 2012 , Henry Granju , Henry Granju Death , Henry Granju Drugs ,Henry's Fund , Katie Allison Granju , Prescription Drug Addiction , Shadow Conventions 2012 , Teen And Prescription Drugs , Teen Drug Use , Parents News

Our nation is in the midst of a public health emergency the likes of which we have not seen since the first decade of AIDS' spread across America. And much like the early years of the AIDS epidemic, the victims of the current crisis are both vilified and ignored, the families of the victims are shamed into silence, and the public at large doesn't know enough to protect itself.

I am speaking of drug overdose, which is now killing tens of thousands of Americans annually, while leaving many thousands more mentally and physically disabled for the rest of their lives. The vast majority of drug overdose deaths are the result of two types of highly addictive, and highly profitable, prescription drugs: opiates and benzodiazapenes. In 2010, one of the more than 25, 000 Americans who died as the result of drug overdose was someone I adored with all my heart: my 18-year-old firstborn, my son Henry.

Before I learned that Henry was addicted to pills, I simply had no clue that the problem of pill addiction and overdose was quietly yet savagely ripping apart the East Tennessee community in which we make our home. Yes, I'd seen the media coverage of "hillbilly heroin," but the threat of such a thing seemed remote and disconnected from my own family's "normal" life. And really, there was no way I could have known what a very serious threat pills posed to my teenage boy. That's because even though an astounding 150 to 200 people a year die of drug overdose every year in our small, southern city, it's as if these people have simply disappeared.

Individual overdose deaths are not reported in the newspaper. Obituaries do not list overdose as a cause of death. Local law enforcement never arrests the dealers behind the overdoses. The local medical examiner routinely seems to rubberstamp the cause of virtually all overdose deaths as "accidental," thus making it easy for the criminal justice system to pretend that no crime occurred. And in my adopted hometown, which I've come to love over the years, the shame and stigma that still exists around losing a child or spouse to drug overdose leads most families to keep their loved one's actual cause of death a big secret.

Given this perfect storm of invisibility that exists around overdose deaths, how could I have known that a teenager living in our county is more likely to die of a pill overdose than from a car accident or a gunshot wound. Shockingly, on the day my son suffered his deadly overdose, another teenager - a beautiful girl named Amber Blizard - also fell victim to illegally diverted prescription pills. That's right; TWO teenagers suffered fatal drug overdoses on the same day in the same small city, and yet no one seemed to consider this remarkable. Not the law enforcement officials who didn't treat the sites of either teen's overdose as a crime scenes. Not the local media that never noticed the fact that two kids were killed in the same way on the same day.

What if two teens had been shot or stabbed to death on the same day? Or two 18-year-olds from two different local high schools or college freshman classes had died in car wrecks on the same day? Even if both teenagers bore some responsibility for the accidents that took their lives - perhaps by speeding or driving under the influence - their deaths would have been noted by our community. But drug overdose victims are treated like they never existed, or deserved to exist.

I learned after my son died that our state's criminal statutes, as well as federal criminal laws both unequivocally define drug distribution resulting in the death of someone else as homicide. In fact, under federal law, there are more severe penalties for adults over 21 whose drug dealing causes the death of someone under the age of 21, as was the case for my son, and in many other adolescent OD fatalities.

There is a disconnect, though, between what the law says, and how it is applied. The law doesn't care whether the person who died of the overdose was struggling with addiction him or herself. But in practice, victims who are addicts get a lesser form of justice. After my son died, a local assistant DA told me that I needed to understand that my teenager was "an unattractive victim" due to his addiction to pills, as if that were a reasonable excuse for ignoring the fact that the dealers behind the drugs that killed Henry would remain free in our community to provide drugs to some other at-risk kid.

Similarly, the law doesn't have a category for victims who somehow "asked for it." If a teenage boy asked an adult to shoot him in the head, for instance, even offered the adult money to do it, would that absolve the adult who fired the fatal shot from criminal responsibility? Of course not. Yet just as in the early days of the spread of AIDS, the victims of overdose are far too often treated as disposable and invisible, because so many believe that they have only themselves to blame for their own deaths.

As long as we continue acting as if overdose victims are not real people who are worthy of equal interest by the criminal justice system, public health authorities, and the media, the numbers of the dead will continue to rise. It was only after Americans' attitudes toward AIDS victims began to shift from blame to compassion that we were finally able to come together in a unified national effort to fight the monster that had already been allowed to devour an entire generation of young gay men. Similarly, until we stop acting as if the tens of thousands of Americans currently dying each year of overdose are unworthy, invisible and disposable, this new monster - the one that took my beloved child from me before he had even had the chance to cast his first vote as an American citizen - will continue to roam our neighborhoods and snatch our children.

My son did not want to be addicted to pills, and he did not want to die before starting his freshman year of college. He certainly did not want to see any other kids hurt and suffer as he did from opiate addiction. In his memory, I now speak out often and loudly to let other parents know what I did not until it was too late, which is that kids are dying all around us, every single day. Until we stop acting as if it isn't happening, or telling ourselves that it could never happen in our own families, the band will continue to play on.

PLEASE LEARN MORE ABOUT HENRY LOUIS GRANJU'S LEGACY OF LOVE AND HOPE FOR YOUNG ADDICTS BY BECOMING A FRIEND OF HENRY'S FUND ON FACEBOOK:www.facebook.com/henrysfund

Tuesday's Trust - Grief's Perpetual Storm

Tuesday's Trust

Grief's Perpetual Storm

Grief surrounds me

Like storm waters over my soul;

Love compounds it,

Ever reminding my heart has a hole...

Tear waters flood this holy domain

Of love for my child,

Overflowing like rain,

Buffeting life's walls, while ruins are piled.

Grief astounds me;

Its invasive forces

Trounce down upon me;

Like death's wildest horses

Crushing life as I once knew it,

Barraging sacred boundaries;

It decimates life and violently spews it.

The tears still pour down

As shoulders, they quake,

Releasing anguished sounds

Of a mother's heart as it breaks.

When will the sun ever come out

Lightening grief's heavy burden?

Oh, but the tears water Death's drought;

Love's roots, only sent deeper, undergird me.

Poem - Grief's Perpetual Storm - Angie Bennett Prince - 08/29/2012

Monday's Mourning Ministry - Safe And Sound ~Taylor Swift

Monday's Mourning Ministry

Safe And Sound

~Taylor Swift

I remember tears streaming down your face
When I said, I'll never let you go
When all those shadows almost killed your light
I remember you said, Don't leave me here alone
But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight

Just close your eyes
The sun is going down
You'll be alright
No one can hurt you now
Come morning light
You and I'll be safe and sound

Don't you dare look out your window darling
Everything's on fire
The war outside our door keeps raging on
Hold onto this lullaby
Even when the music's gone

Just close your eyes
The sun is going down
You'll be alright
No one can hurt you now
Come morning light
You and I'll be safe and sound

Just close your eyes
You'll be alright
Come morning light,
You and I'll be safe and sound.

http://youtu.be/nhdNG_ebbTg

Saturday's Sayings - In the End, Life is Stronger than Death

Saturday's Sayings

In the End, Life is Stronger than Death

I heard your voice in the wind today and I turned to see your face;

The warmth of the wind caressed me as I stood silently in place.

I felt your touch in the sun today as its warmth filled the sky;

I closed my eyes for your embrace and my spirit soared high.

I saw your eyes in the window pane as I watched the falling rain;

It seemed as each raindrop fell it quietly said your name.

I held you close in my heart today; it made me feel complete;

You may have died...but you are not gone - you will always be a part of me.

As long as the sun shines ... the wind blows ... the rain falls ...

You will live on inside of me forever ….

for that is all my heart knows.

In moments of silence, I find you. 

In this quiet, I speak to you. 

It is only then that I feel once again, 

the greatest love that I ever knew. 

-Author Unknown

~Narelle♥

~Angels of the Heart, via Grieving Mother Jill C.

~~~~~~

Parents who have lost children wish others wouldn’t think if they have a good day they are “over it” .... or if they have a bad day they are being unreasonable because they SHOULD be over it. The truth is there is NO “normal” way for them to act. Each person handles grief in their own unique way, and THAT is 'normal' for them.

~Narelle ♥

~Angels of the Heart

~~~~~~

It doesn't matter how long you cry, a mother’s love will never die....Nothing can take this bond away.

~Angels of the Heart

~~~~~~

If you've been putting on a brave face for quite a while now, perhaps you need to give yourself permission to have 'a day off' ... Allow yourself to let your guard down today so your suppressed emotions can come up from the depths of your heart.

~Narelle ♥

~Angels of the Heart

~~~~~~

A Gift From Heaven

I am with you always

I live in your heart

I speak to your soul

We are not far apart

When you feel a light breeze

Hear the songs the birds sing

Know that I see every smile

Your kindness can bring

I see you building your dreams

With wisdom and grace

And asking His guidance

With each challenge you face

I am more than a memory

You will feel our love grow

I am forever your angel

Some things you just know

Please tell me your thoughts

Your hopes and your fears

And know that through faith

He will heal all your tears

For today, I can sahre

That in Heaven above

God has taken my hand

I am complete, I am love

~Kristan Dean

2009 copyright Mooney, TunCo, Inc.

~~~~~~

~~~~~~

~~~~~~ 

I'm Still Here

I may be gone but please don't cry

Death is not the last goodbye

Death releases me of my pain

There will come a day we will meet again

Don't be blue and don't be sad

Think back to the fun we had

I am always here I hear you speak

In time of trouble it's me you seek

You don't see me but I see you

I will do my best to pull you through

Speak to me and I will hear

Never far I am always near

Be brave my love do not cry

See you again it's not goodbye

~John F. Connor

Pictures, thanks to ~Angels of the Hearts as labeled, all others, thanks to ~Missing Loved Ones

Friday's Faith - The Work of Love in Remembering One Dead - "A Work of the Freest Love" ~Søren Kierkegaard - Part Three

"If we are to love the men we see, then we are also to love those whom we have seen but see no more because death took them away.... 

"(O)ne must remember the dead; 

weep softly, but grieve long."

Friday's Faith

The Work of Love in Remembering One Dead

"A Work of the Freest Love"

~Søren Kierkegaard (1813 - 1855)

Part Three

"Beloved, let us love one another.

1 John 4:7a (NASB)

From Works of Love

~by Søren Kierkegaard

(translated by Howard and Edna Hong)

The work of love in remembering one who is dead is a work of the freest love. 

In order properly to test whether the love is entirely free, one eliminates everything which in some way could constrain a person to an act of love. But precisely this is absent in the relationship to the one who is dead. If love nevertheless remains, this is the freest love. 

That which can constrain an act of love from a person is extremely varied and can hardly be catalogued. The child cries, the poor man begs, the widow importunes, considerations squeeze, wretchedness forces, and so on. But all love in action which is extracted in this way is not entirely free. 

The stronger the compulsion, the less free is the love. Usually we consider this with reference to parents' love for their children. If one wants to make an adequate description of helplessness and to sketch it in its most compelling form, one usually recalls an infant lying there in all its helplessness, forcing, so to speak, love from its parents---it forces, so to speak, because it really forces love only from the parents who are not what they ought to be. Therefore the infant in all its helplessness! 

And yet, when a person first lies in his grave with six feet of earth over him, he is more helpless than the child!

But the child cries! If the child could not cry---yes, there have been many a father and mother who have nevertheless cared for the child in the fullness of love; but, O, there have also been many a father and mother who at least many times would not forget the child. Our thought is not therefore to call such a mother and father outright unloving; but nevertheless love in them was so weak, so self-seeking, that they needed this reminder, this constraint. 

On the other hand, one dead does not cry like a child; he does not call himself into memory as the importunate do; he does not beg as does the pan-handler; he does not squeeze with consideration; he does not force you by visible wretchedness; he does not besiege you as the widow did the judge: one dead is silent and says not a word; he remains completely still and does not move from the spot---and perhaps he does not suffer evil either! There is no one who inconveniences the living less than the one who is dead and no one who is easier for the living to avoid than one dead. You can leave your child with a babysitter in order not to hear its cry; you can say you are not at home in order to avoid the solicitation of beggars; you can go about disguised so that no one will know you; in short, in relationship with the living you can use many precautions which perhaps still do not give you complete security, but in relationship to one who is dead you do not need the least precaution, and yet you are entirely secure. If anyone is of such a mind, if it best suits his scheme of life to be rid of the dead the sooner the better, without being challenged at all or becoming the object of any sort of prosecution, he can turn cold in approximately the same moment the dead one becomes cold. If only out of shame (certainly not for the sake of the dead) he remembers to weep a little in the newspapers on the burial day, if he merely takes care to show the dead this last honour, out of shame: then he can for all that, spit right in the dead man's---no not right in his eyes, for they are now closed. Naturally one who is dead has no rights in life; there is no public authority whose job concerns whether you remember the dead or not, no authority who mixes into such a relationship as sometimes in the relationship between parents and children---and one dead certainly takes no step to inconvenience or compel in any way.

---If, therefore, you want to test whether you love freely, observe some time how over a period of time you relate yourself to the one who is dead....

O, there is a lot of talk in the world about how love must be free, that one cannot love if there is the slightest constraint, that in matters of love absolutely nothing must be obligated. Well, let's see how things stand with this free love when one gets right down to this---how the dead are remembered in love, for the one who is dead does not compel one at all. Yes, in the moment of separation, when one cannot get along without him who is dead, there is a shriek. Is this the free love so much talked about, is this love for one who is dead? And thereupon, little by little, as the dead crumbles away, the memory crumbles away between the fingers and one does not know what becomes of it; little by little one becomes free of this---burdensome memory. But to become free in this way---is this free love, is this love for one who is dead? The saying puts it well: out of sight, out of mind. And one can always be sure that a proverb speaks accurately of how things go in the world; it is quite another matter that every proverb, Christianly understood, is untrue. 

If everything said about loving freely were true, that is, if it happened, if it were carried out, if men were accustomed to love in this way, men would also love the dead quite differently than they do. But the actual situation is that as far as other human love is concerned there is usually something coercive, daily sight and habit if nothing else, and therefore one cannot definitely see to what extent it is love which freely holds its object fast or it is the object which in one way or another coercively lends a hand. 

But with respect to one dead everything is made clear. Here there is nothing, nothing coercive at all. 

On the other hand, the loving memory of one dead has to protect itself against the actuality around about least by ever new impressions it gets full power to expel the memory, and it has to protect itself against time: in short, it has to protect its freedom in remembering against that which would compel it to forget. 

The power of time is great. One perhaps does not notice it in time, because time slyly steals a little bit away at a time. Perhaps one will get to know this clearly for the first time in eternity when one is required to look back again and around to see what he has managed to get together with the help of time and forty years. Yes, time has a dangerous power; in time it is so easy to make a beginning again and thereby to forget where one left off. Even when one begins to read a very big book and does not completely trust his memory, he puts in a bookmark. But, O, with respect to his whole life, how often one forgets to put in a marker in order to be able to find his place! And now through the years to have to remember one dead while he, alas, does nothing to help one, or whether he does anything or simply does nothing, everything goes to show how completely indifferent he is. 

In the meantime the multiplicity of life's demands beckons to one, the living beckon to one and say: come to us, we will take care of you. One who is dead, however, cannot beckon. Even if he wanted to, he could not beckon. He cannot do a single thing to make us captive to him; he cannot move a finger; he lies and crumbles away---how easy for the powers of life and of the moment to overcome such a weakling! 

O, there is no one as helpless as one who is dead, and in his helplessness he exercises absolutely not the slightest compulsion! Therefore no love is as free as the work of love which remembers one who is dead---for to remember him is something quite different from not being able to forget him at first. 

The work of love in remembering one dead is a work of the most faithful love.

To be continued...

Thursday's Therapy - How Meditation Can Help Our Bereaved Brain

Thursday's Therapy

How Meditation Can Help Our Bereaved Brain

In a Trauma seminar that Tommy and I attended in Atlanta, the point was emphasized over and over that severe trauma can alter the brain. It can even shrink parts of the brain such as the amygdala and the hippocampus! The hippocampus is where learning and memory take place. When the hippocampus is affected, we can forget directions to places we habitually drove to before. We can leave a mall, and forget where we parked our car. We can take a shower, and forget the habitual steps we normally performed every day before our child's death!

Did you notice some time in your Child Loss Grief that your memory was impacted? I did. My children could tell me something, and days later I wouldn't remember that they had even told me this information. They began worrying about me at some point, but I reassured them that it was connected to my grief and would therefore dissipate over time. I explained that grief was taking up about 90% of my brain, and only 10% was left over to attend to information coming in apart from grief so that I may or may not forget that information. I think they have been relieved over time as they see me back to my old self, at least in terms of memory! 

So, of course, any of us should feel concerned if we think our severe trauma could alter the brain to the point of shrinking a part of it. But in this Trauma conference, fortunately, we were also reassured that since our ability to perform brain scans in recent years, they discovered that brain cells can indeed regenerate in the process called neurogenesis! There are things we can do to facilitate that process taking place so that we can help our traumatized brains to heal, and be restored. Meditation is one of those things. 

Many people question, "What is Meditation anyway?" A simplified answer is that it is practicing to focus the brain in on the "here and now" so that you are very aware of the present rather than your mind being adrift, unfocused, or even too focused on the past or future so that you are not experiencing the things that are present in and around you. Simple methods of focusing in on your own breathing can be meditation, and you can even feel yourself beginning to relax and just "be" in the moment. Over time, this creates positive changes in the brain, even giving us much more resilience amidst our stress and trauma. It is part of the challenge we each face of refining the balancing art of living even while we're ever dealing with the death of our beloved child. And for those of us who are attuned spiritually, the meditating on the love God has for us in all of its many aspects can be incredibly healing.

The following is an article from The New York Times' blog that shows how meditation can positively affect our brain.

~~~

How Meditation May Change the Brain

By Sindya N. Bhanoo

Over the December holidays, my husband went on a 10-day silent meditation retreat. Not my idea of fun, but he came back rejuvenated and energetic.

He said the experience was so transformational that he has committed to meditating for two hours daily, one hour in the morning and one in the evening, until the end of March. He’s running an experiment to determine whether and how meditation actually improves the quality of his life.

I’ll admit I’m a skeptic.

But now, scientists say that meditators like my husband may be benefiting from changes in their brains. The researchers report that those who meditated for about 30 minutes a day for eight weeks had measurable changes in gray-matter density in parts of the brain associated with memory, sense of self, empathy and stress. The findings will appear in the Jan. 30 issue of Psychiatry Research: Neuroimaging.

M.R.I. brain scans taken before and after the participants’ meditation regimen found increased gray matter in the hippocampus, an area important for learning and memory. The images also showed a reduction of gray matter in the amygdala, a region connected to anxiety and stress. A control group that did not practice meditation showed no such changes.

But how exactly did these study volunteers, all seeking stress reduction in their lives but new to the practice, meditate? So many people talk about meditating these days. Within four miles of our Bay Area home, there are at least six centers that offer some type of meditation class, and I often hear phrases like, “So how was your sit today?”

Britta Hölzel, a psychologist at Massachusetts General Hospital and Harvard Medical School and the study’s lead author, said the participants practiced mindfulness meditation, a form of meditation that was introduced in the United States in the late 1970s....

“The main idea is to use different objects to focus one’s attention, and it could be a focus on sensations of breathing, or emotions or thoughts, or observing any type of body sensations,” she said. “But it’s about bringing the mind back to the here and now, as opposed to letting the mind drift.” Generally the meditators are seated upright on a chair or the floor and in silence, although sometimes there might be a guide leading a session, Dr. Hölzel said.

Of course, it’s important to remember that the human brain is complicated. Understanding what the increased density of gray matter really means is still, well, a gray area.

“The field is very, very young, and we don’t really know enough about it yet,” Dr. Hölzel said. “I would say these are still quite preliminary findings. We see that there is something there, but we have to replicate these findings and find out what they really mean.”

It has been hard to pinpoint the benefits of meditation, but a 2009 study suggests that meditation may reduce blood pressure in patients with coronary heart disease. And a 2007 study found that meditators have longer attention spans.

Previous studies have also shown that there are structural differences between the brains of meditators and those who don’t meditate, although this new study is the first to document changes in gray matter over time through meditation.

Ultimately, Dr. Hölzel said she and her colleagues would like to demonstrate how meditation results in definitive improvements in people’s lives.

“A lot of studies find that it increases well-being, improves quality of life, but it’s always hard to determine how you can objectively test that,” she said. “Relatively little is known about the brain and the psychological mechanisms about how this is being done.”

In a 2008 study published in the journal PloS One, researchers found that when meditators heard the sounds of people suffering, they had stronger activation levels in their temporal parietal junctures, a part of the brain tied to empathy, than people who did not meditate.

“They may be more willing to help when someone suffers, and act more compassionately,” Dr. Hölzel said.

Further study is needed, but that bodes well for me. For now, I’m more than happy to support my husband’s little experiment, despite the fact that he now rises at 5 a.m. and is exhausted by 10 at night. An empathetic husband who takes out the trash and puts gas in the car because he knows I don’t like to — I’ll take that.

Picture: thanks to FotoSearch.com
Article: How Meditation May Change the Brain: http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/01/28/how-meditation-may-change-the-brain/ 

Wednesday's Woe - Denial After 6 Years?! ~Tommy and Angie Prince

Every day since you've been gone, there's such an isolating loneliness and an aching so deep inside; it's a feeling that fills my head, my heart, my eyes and my ears, a feeling that steals away the joy, leaving only the torment of my tears. And every day when this feeling comes, the power and intensity is like a thousand drums pounding in my heart tearing me apart.

My heart and I will never get used to your being gone.

Wednesday's Woe

Denial After 6 Years?!

~Tommy and Angie Prince

To deal with the reality of what happened to our child, we could not function with such reality "in our face" all the time. As psychoanalyst Otto Rank describes, it is neurotic to not face our live's truths, but it is also neurotic to face our harsh truths at all times. We do need to process the death of our child into our brains, our psyches, our bodies, our souls, etc. But we also need to take some breaks from such harsh reality at times to give our poor systems a breather. We have to face death and yet live at the same time, so it becomes a living nightmare.

We talk about life's rhythms. One thing that can stop our life's rhythm in its tracks is to momentarily "set aside" your child's death by becoming busy with life, then happen to glance at a picture of her you haven't seen in a long time ~ a flash of normalcy at some other time in your life comes face to face with the harsh reality of her death. What???! NOOO!!!! That couldn't have happened to my baby, not that!!! Not in her young life!!! The very striking picture of her screams out "Beautiful Life in All its Normalcy." But, No!!! You're "Chutes and Laddered" back down to 'Start" in a second's time. Square One. Day One of your grief. And the pain comes tumbling down over your heart like a freight train to where you wonder if you will survive...

Tuesday's Trust - God Enters and Companions Our Suffering… and A Poem About Her Suffering...

Tuesday's Trust

God Enters and Companions Our Suffering…

and 

A Poem About Her Suffering...

Suffering is a huge, unavoidable element in the human condition. To be human is to suffer. No one gets an exemption. It comes as no surprise then to find that our Holy Scriptures, immersed as they are in the human condition, provide extensive witness to suffering…

Lamentations, written out of the exile experience, provides the community of faith with a form and vocabulary for dealing with loss and pain…

Neither explaining nor offering a program for the elimination of suffering, Lamentations keeps company with the extensive biblical witness that gives dignity to suffering by insisting that God enters our suffering and is companion to our suffering.

"She cries herself to sleep at night,

tears soaking her pillow.

No one's left among her lovers to sit and hold her hand.

Her friends have all dumped her."

~from Lamentations 1

~Introduction to Lamentations, found in one version of The Message by Eugene Peterson, page 1474,

Verse from Lamentations 1, page 1475.

~~~

And later that night, rather in the wee hours of this morning, I wrote a poem, along with many, many tears to lament her suffering…

Poem: On Grappling with her Suffering that Night…

Her fall was astounding;

there was none to comfort her.

~Lamentations 1:9b

What?! On the night that you fell,

That fatal night (once Satan was through),

But before he sounded Death's knell,

There was none there to comfort you?!

Years spent with us, wiping your tears,

Feeling your pain, crying with you,

But in that bleak night's terrorizing fears,

No mommy or daddy there to comfort you?

How can this be? It's just not right:

We were not there to comfort your fright.

And then our God enters my plight…

But I trust God was there,

Holding you close, caressing your hair;

My baby girl, your Father was there!

He took you Home; He rescued you;

He held you close that whole night through;

He wiped your tears, poured out His love…

Ev'n as He does now for us… since you went Above.

Where would we go? What would we do?

If we did not know our God did rescue you?

Held in God's arms, sleep well now my child;

Since He holds us too, we'll join you in a while

When all tears shall cease underneath God's sweet smile…

Poem - On Grappling With Her Suffering that Night - Angie Bennett Prince - 08/27/2012, 2:00 a.m.

“Christ was in agony in prayer, Luke 22:44. Many when they pray are rather in lethargy, than in an agony. When they are about the world they are all fire; when they are at prayer, they are all ice.”

~Thomas Watson

Picture, thanks to Daily Scripture e-cards
Quote, from Heartlight's Quotemeal

Monday's Mourning Ministry - Jesus Whispers Peace ~George Beverly Shea and Cliff Barrows / Portrait: 'Prince of Peace' ~Akiane

Akiane's view of the "Prince of Peace" ~

painted when she was only 9 years old

Monday's Mourning Ministry

Jesus Whispers Peace

~George Beverly Shea and Cliff Barrows

at a Billy Graham Crusade

There is a name to me so dear,

Like sweetest music to my ear,

For when my heart is troubled, filled with fear,

Jesus whispers peace.

When grief seems more than I can bear

My soul weighed down with heavy care

And I am sorely tempted to despair

Jesus whispers peace.

O that the world might hear Him speak

The word of comfort that men seek

To all the lowly and to the meek,

Jesus whispers peace.

The most important thing in this world is faith, because without faith, you cannot communicate with God.

~Akiane

Portrait: "Prince of Peace," painted by 9-year-old Akiane (pronounced Ah-key-ah-nuh)

http://youtu.be/bzcjg1hxNsM