Its About You

For a few years now, I have been writing in this blog each Friday.

I love doing it. 

But there are times when I feel almost selfish.

Times when I get bored with my own words and thoughts. 

I start thinking: 

"ENOUGH ALREADY about ME!!! Im tired of talking about me!!!" 

But that is how writing feels. 

When you are in the moment of writing,

it feels as if you could be connecting with lots of people,

OR,

you could just be talking to yourself,

yelling into a void of nothing. 

You have no way of knowing if anything you are saying 

will connect with someone. 

When you write it, 

you hope it will. 

But when you are done writing it,

you have to just let it go,

and not have any expectations,

and just know that what you wrote

was honest and truthful and from the heart. 

That is what I have tried to do here,

and will continue to do. 

However, 

there are times like today

where I am sick of hearing my own story.

I want to hear yours. 

August 30th, today, is National Grief Awareness Day. 

Apparently,

that is a thing.

The "old me" would not have known about this day,

or given much thought to it. 

The new "post-loss" me knows that grief changes you

and alters you at a cellular level.

So making people "aware" of what grief does

and how it all works

is very important to me. 

Something I have learned 

is that a large part of grieving in a healthy way

includes telling your story. 

Telling the story of the people we love

who have died,

and never being ashamed to keep loving them,

and to keep them as relevant, beautiful pieces of our lives. 

That is how we keep them alive,

in the world, in our hearts, 

and in our minds. 

When we remind others that our love story matters,

we also remind ourselves,

to never be ashamed to talk about it,

to smile and/or shed tears at the thought of it,

and to feel them come back to life for a minute or two,

everytime you share a memory. 

 

So today,

Id love to hear some pieces

of your story,

Dear Readers. 

 

Use the comments,

to share their names, 

the things you miss most about them,

their favorite holiday or movie or musician,

the way they loved you ,

or anything at all that you want the world to know

about what makes your love story special. 

 

Tell me who they were,

and who they are,

and how you have navigated life 

without them here on earth. 

How are you doing?

I would bet that if we could somehow 

ask your person,

who died,

how you are doing,

they would say with a smile: 

"She / he is absolutely amazing,

and I am so proud of them!" 

 

They love us,

and they want us to do well,

they cheer us on,

and our job 

here on Earth,

is to live the very best life 

we can,

and to carry them with us,

filled with Pride. 

 

Let's make them shine today. 

Id be honored to hear 

their story. 

And yours. 

Tell me your story. 


Showing 6 reactions

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  • Samantha Coleman
    commented 2019-09-11 23:02:11 -0700
    Friday will be 11 weeks….. 11 weeks without my love, my friend, my partner, my confidant, my encourager, my supporter, my husband, the father of my children, one biologically and the other proclaimed from the very beginning….. It was 11 yrs, 11months, and 29days from the day we said yes to forever….. He was 41 and healthy…. It wasn’t cancer, it wasn’t slow, it wasn’t expected…. It was sudden, his heart failed and no one knows why…. I’m a Nurse and I couldn’t save him…. I didn’t get to say goodbye he never heard my final I love you, he didn’t get to pass on any words of wisdom to our babies, they didn’t get to hear him say he loved them or that he wanted to stay, more than anything, he wanted to stay… I dedicate my life to helping others, doing for others and I don’t know why that isn’t enough to be allowed to keep the only man who ever truly loved me, the only man I never felt I deserved, the only man who made me feel whole…. I’m angry and I’m sad, I’m hurt and I’m frustrated, I’m tired and I’m broken…. we had so many years ahead of us, so many plans…. I’m only 35
  • Janice Hart
    commented 2019-09-10 17:47:16 -0700
    Hi Kelley, it was wonderful to meet you last Saturday. I always read your weekly posts and I get a lot of comfort from them. On to the task at hand: My husband, John, passed away 5 years ago this Friday. He was a hard working, honest, loving, well liked individual. He was the pied piper of all the elderly men who live in my neighborhood – whenever he worked in the yard or garage, he would be surrounded by men who came out to “help” him. Even though many times it slowed him down, he was patient and gave them the opportunity to feel useful. Together, we raised 2 fine sons, and they learned to treat their wives with respect and to be loving and kind, just as he was to me. Children learn what they live. I enjoyed every second of the 33 years I had with him, and miss him dearly, every second of every day. Now at the 5 year mark, I am trying to build a new life for myself. Baby steps every day, missing the one person I want beside me. I will be forever grateful for the life we shared.
  • Diane Taylor
    commented 2019-09-04 04:20:26 -0700
    I love all your writings Kelley – everyone at Soaring Spirits is amazing. I am not a widow but I am a mother who lost her only child 7 years ago. It is a road I never EVER thought I would be traveling down, but here I am.

    After 4 miscarriages, I was blessed to bring a sweet 10 pound baby boy into this world on 4/25/87 – we named him Jonathan. My life changed forever on that day. Jonathan grew into an amazing human, smart as can be, with a huge imagination and a deep love of preserving this earth for future generations. I watched him with awe and wonder – and just knew he was going to take on the world by storm. He got a job at the US Geological Survey, doing what he loved: working in the field, gathering water and soil samples, and writing reports of statistics and things I could never understand lol! In 2011, one of his papers was chosen to be published in the journal of Ecology, a well respected journal in his field. I watched with pride as he accomplished goal after goal. He found a cool apartment in West Virginia and loved to cook in his own kitchen. He took part in Iron Man competitions, and Tough Mudders…..there was nothing he couldn’t do!

    On the afternoon of March 1, 2012, Jonathan came home from work, and started cooking dinner for himself. The events that happened next will never make sense to me – but a fire broke out in the kitchen and my strong, smart son was overcome by smoke and never make it out. Paramedics found him on the floor, trying to crawl to the front door to get out.

    The empty space in my life will never be filled – there is no other child for me to “focus” on. Just me and my husband (Jonathan’s stepdad). There will be no grad school, no wedding day, no grandkids for me to spoil (selfish I know). My goal now is to try and start/end each day with a heart of gratitude. Whatever happens during the day….all bets are off on what can happen or where my heart feels shattered and helpless. I miss him with every breath I take.

    Jonathan Paul Daily – age 24….his obituary……

    https://www.piedmontsub.com/Jonathan.shtml
  • Teresa W
    commented 2019-09-01 22:29:37 -0700
    I’m coming up to 5 years.
    We were 6 weeks shy of our 30th anniversary.
    He was 55.
    Cancer.
    Things are ok. I have wonderful supportive kids who are now 28, 29, and 32. Expecting the first grandchild in January. I remember when my husband was sick, I said to my brother-in-law that everything from now on was going to have sadness attached to it. So, while I’m absolutely over the moon about the baby, I’m sad John won’t be here to be a grandpa (someone asked me what he would have been called, and it was like a kick in the stomach). Christmases are fine again, birthdays, etc, but the sadness is always there.

    Other observations:
    *I’d be a much happier widow if I was just a little more comfortable financially.
    *Every Friday when I have to take out the garbage I still get pissed off that it’s now my job. Same with cutting the lawn.
    *Couple oriented social obligations are still hard. Like weddings. And one time I had to get someone to zip up my dress when I got to the event, because I couldn’t do it myself at home (all the tears in the world won’t make a zipper zip itself up.
    *Not having to cook dinner is still a nice novelty.
    *Now that it’s been 5 years people seem very comfortable asking me about dating again and they just don’t get that I can’t be bothered.
    *No, I don’t want a dog.
    *The friends and family that stayed, are still here for me and those that didn’t are still not part of my life and frankly I don’t miss them.
    *People still don’t mind helping out (like my brothers, with guy things), but I have to come right out and ask because they aren’t mind readers and they have their own lives.
    *I’m happy we are in a time of text, and instant messages and social media, because it all just makes me feel more connected with people.
    *I find I care less about what people think now. I appreciate the little things, and nature.
    *My attention span isn’t what it used to be. Is that age or grief?
    *Every morning when I wake up, it takes me a second to clue into my reality.
    *i sleep with the TV on. John hated that.
    *I’m not sure what to do with my rings yet, but I stopped wearing them a year and a half ago.
    *I’ve had a couple of vivid and timely dreams about him that I never want to forget.
    *no, I don’t want to spend his birthday with my in-laws, but I do. Nor my anniversary, which I don’t.
    *i still wouldn’t change my life for anyone’s I know.

    It’s getting easier, but it’s always going to suck. Thanks for asking.
  • Cathy
    commented 2019-08-31 11:33:45 -0700
    My story: met my husband Doug when I was 20 in college, he, 25, teaching We lived together 10 years before marrying, married 28 years, ups and downs like in any relationship, but he was my person. He’s been gone almost 10 years now, misdiagnosed by his doc. He was a math teacher, then a carpenter, we built our home, and he continued that occupation for the rest of his life. Along the way we had a music store for a few years, and rental cabins with family, which I just reluctantly sold after my folks bought them almost 60 years ago. I also let go of a sailboat we were going to spend time on when retiring, which would be about now. He loved to sail, learned at camp Hayo Went Ha on Torch Lake, MI, where he was also a counselor. I still have his lake boat, it’s been in storage ever since his brother also died; hard to let go of so much at one time.

    How am I doing? From the outside, you’d think I’m ok, but I miss the life I had, the life we were planning. My Mom died a year to the day that Doug did, then a friend died when we were sailing out of the country (fun times with police interrogations and coroner), then my Dad died, then my bro in law who was my main support, then a close friend….it goes on with more deaths. They don’t compare with the first tho, losing your spouse/partner is definitely at the top of the grief list.

    My therapy is a granddaughter who just turned 3. Without her and my adult kids I don’t think I’d still be here. I still go to a Loss of Spouse group through Hospice, another lifeline. When friends ask me why, I tell them “he’s still dead”. Not sure my husband would say “she’s amazing”… I certainly don’t feel it. I know he’d want me to be happy and enjoy these years, but it’s a struggle. As Bonnie posted “I breathe in. I breath out”. And Yes, thanks for asking about our stories. Wish we didn’t have to share them.
  • Bonnie Rozean
    commented 2019-08-30 19:49:11 -0700
    Thank you for your post. I always get something out of what you share.
    Tomorrow is my 63rd birthday and my first one since I was 15 years old without Jeff here to share it with.
    I’d just as soon skip the whole thing.
    I fell in love with Jeff in highschool and we would’ve been married 44 years in June had he not died suddenly on March 28th from a brain aneurysm.
    Jeff died like he lived – quietly, peacefully, no fuss, no muss. I am eternally grateful that he didn’t suffer. He experienced a great deal of emotional pain in his life from growing up in an alcoholic family.
    Jeff was a good provider, a hard worker, kind, and considerate. He was well liked and well loved. He was a wonderful father to our 2 children.
    How am I doing? Today, not very well. Today I don’t think I can do this widow thing anymore. I’m not suicidal, just tired of trying to process and endure the deepest pain I’ve ever experienced
    I thought I was pretty well acquainted with loss and pain. This loss is so different, so life changing, so shocking, so unbearable. And yet I am bearing it somehow.
    I’m grateful for the love and support of my family, friends, clients, and community.
    I’m a member of a widow’s group – my new tribe. I’m seeing a grief counselor individually.
    So I breathe in. I breathe out. I put one foot in front of the other, one day, or hour or minute at a time. And I read this blog daily and pray for all of you.
    Thanks for asking. Blessings to you.