Writing, Grieving, and the New Normal
I think I was about 6 years old when I first realized the power of writing. My mom had said no to something I felt strongly about doing, so I set out on a little protest. Since I was too young to hold any true bargaining power, I decided to wield the power of the pen.
This is how my first production, “Oh, My Mother Muriel” came into being: a short poem complete with poor imagery and rhyme which, I was certain, had proven that my mom was being unreasonable. After some feverish composing, I left my revenge poem on Mom and Dad’s dresser, fully believing it would convince her she had been wrong. When she found it a few minutes later, I didn’t get the reaction I had hoped for. Instead, what I heard was raucous laughter, followed by her calling Grandma and reading my poem to her. Although slightly deflated, I do remember being tickled that at least my poem had entertained.
Being a child, I didn’t save a copy of this “masterpiece,” but my mom did for many years, in her top dresser drawer. She laughingly spoke of it often throughout my childhood and even my teen years, but I never saw my poem again during my adult years. Nor do I know what became of it. All I remember is I compared my mother to things like hurricanes and World War III. And yes, I was aware WWIII had not yet occurred. I predicted she would start it.
This same mother who was often strict with her youngest child probably never knew how much I would one day look back appreciatively at a few of the times she refused to give in. “Adult me” recognizes her wisdom. Mom continued to practice tough love on all of her family until the last couple years of her life, when pancreatic cancer stole every bit of energy and fight she had, and then finally her life on December 27, 2006.
I hadn’t thought of my childhood poem in many years until I heard from a friend the other day. This friend is one of many people I know who are grieving and struggling to move forward from a tremendous loss. My sweet friend had read the blog I wrote last week and asked if I would consider writing about dealing with loss and moving on.
Anything but an expert in grief, but one who has experienced it in losing my parents, grandparents, and many other family members and friends, I believe there are things we can do to help fill the emptiness after a loved one passes. What we don’t want to believe is that the gap will always be there. But how could it not? These people comprised a vital part of our lives, and no one, no matter how special, could ever take their place.
This is where the New Normal comes in. I had never heard of the term until right after Mom died. A school colleague, who had recently lost his father, informed me that the New Normal is a previously unfamiliar situation that is now the standard. And what we do with the New Normal will dictate how and to what extent we are able to move on and lead a productive life after our loss.
I found that a healthy New Normal comes down largely to a two-part approach:
1. How do I take care of myself during this difficult time?
2. How do I carry on my loved one’s legacy?
Aside from the obvious suggestions of eating right, getting exercise, etc., #1 is a personal approach. Do the things that you enjoy, that make you feel happy to be alive. The last thing our loved ones would have wanted is for us to be unhappy and stuck in our grief. Whenever I’ve suffered a loss, major or minor, I’ve always found journaling to be an effective form of healing, along with music and reading. Whatever your favorite hobbies and pastimes, do those things! Grief will take up all our thoughts and energy if we let it. Don’t let it.
One of the best ways to honor those we’ve lost is to take up their favorite cause. My mom loved children, not just her own children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, but ALL children. She could be entertained for hours looking at photos and hearing stories of others’ little ones. Nothing broke her heart more than hearing of a child suffering or of a tragic loss of a child. For that reason, I try to carry on her mission of helping children however I can, whether with a helping hand or a giving hand. Whatever your loved one’s legacy, keep it alive by devoting time to whatever their passion had been. The love and gratification you will feel will keep their memory alive every single day. And the world will be a better place because of you and their legacy.
Finally, trust in the saying, “Time heals all wounds.” In time, memories and reminiscing will bring fewer tears, and more smiles and laughter. Cherish those memories, and share them often.