Falling off a mountain

Choosing your breath: secondary loss wheel

Losing my Angel led to so many other losses in my life, it was the stone in the water but there were endless ripples from the experience. I grieve for her and I grieve for all of the secondary losses that came with it. 

A photo that needs no description - oh my heart

Choosing your breath - a picture of grief

While I am not the best artist I decided to take a crack at illustrating my grief. I had to add the words in to articulate the peaks and valleys and the stages of grief. The sun represents hope to me, and the trees represent the trail, one of the places  I feel closest to my daughter and to nature and spirit. I would like to think I am getting closer and closer to the sun, and finding my peace in this life.

Choosing your breath: bottling it up

So many times over the years I have kept my grief secret and bottled it up. This exercise was about showing the feelings we often keep inside and what we project to the world more openly (or as self-protection). The visual representation and even the exercise of writing it out is powerful and healing. 

Happy Father's Day

For all the grieving fathers out there ❤️

Choosing your breath: mind control

In the beginning I had no control over my thoughts and emotions. I was a soul strickened and couldn't do anything other than lean into the grief and be totally engulfed in it.  It would take over in the most inappropriate places, in the airport when I saw a little girl and her parents, a few weeks after she died, at our cousins wedding 2 months in when we were asked how we were....on and on I had so many moments like this that were raw and genuine but often embarrassing and difficult.

Mind control came with time. Eventually I could act normal in difficult circumstances, although at first it was completely exhausting. I clearly remember a lunch with friends a few months after she died and after an hour or two being completely drained from listening to the discussions of their kids and daycare stories and everything else. I never thought it would be easier but just like working a muscle it slowly did. I could control triggers better and the flashbacks didn't cause uncontrollable sobbing, maybe just a well of tears that I could compose again.

I am stronger and smarter now and I do take care of myself first if I need to, and not put myself in situations that would be incredibly difficult.  I have opened up the dialogue with those close friends that want to see the full me and will be authentic with me.  

The truth is the grief doesn't get easier, you just gather the strength and endurance to manage it more effectively. 

You learn to manage grief in all its glory.