What impressed me about both books was how different they were -- yet universal to the human experience. Who isn't different in some way? In my view, anyone who says they are the same as everyone else is either lying, extremely boring or both.
Next time, try out these new tools when you find yourself in a situation where someone tells you what is going on under the "I'm fine." The thing is, most of us want to say and do the right things for the people in our lives, but we didn't how. Here's a start!
When the word "death" shows up in our conversations as readily as "love" or "Twitter" or "Facebook" and when you hear discussions about death around the water cooler at work, then you will know that we have made progress. This is what the world needs from us as we struggle to salvage this beautiful planet, which thrives on the cycle of life and death: honest, real and natural talk about death and dying.
Grief is the experience you are going through, and it doesn't define who you are. Choose love and love will choose you.
What I learned was, when we experience loss, there is a necessity for us to recognize the pain of that loss and reflect on how that loss is impacting our lives. There's a quote, by Anne Roiphe that I've become very fond of, "Grief is in two parts. The first is the loss. The second is the remaking of life."
Do Not Resuscitate? Allow Natural Death? Do everything to keep me alive? Whatever happens, I don't want tubes down my throat! Keep me out of Intensive Care Units!
What matters is that the parents are hurting. They loved their son. They thought he was wonderful! They loved every bit of him! They had dreams! They loved hearing him play music and laugh! Oh, how they loved his laugh!
This week has been full of the stories that reverberate through social media. First David Bowie succumbed to cancer, then just a few days later, Alan ...
In Part 1 I explained why Baby Boomers, now in our 60s and caring for parents in their 80s and 90s, are going to change the way we think about end of ...
However in my conversations with grief survivors I have found that all of them feel they have grown emotionally and spiritually because of the challenges they have experienced; and their current life's work has been shaped and inspired by their grief, as well.
Over a year has passed, and I am still grappling with the finality of my mother's death. Questions bounce around in my head: How did the life of such an amazing person burn out like that? Why did she want to fade away?
I lost my uncle Jeff to AIDS when I was 12-years-old. He was my best friend. Uncle Jeff was a minister and he believed in my singing and creativity so much, that he let me lead sermons and sing to the congregation as a child.
Life around us doesn't stop. We are doing all the things others do, but we are doing them with an added weight of sorrow and pain that makes each step feel like wading through quicksand. We want you to know we are doing the best we can.
"There are no online reviews for hospices," I said to my 79-year-old brother shortly after he announced he was stopping dialysis. Though we knew his decision made this the first day of the rest of his life, we both laughed.
Here are some "death-aware" gifts that you might consider for various individuals grappling with death and loss this holiday season:
This is much more than a memoir. It is an unexpected view inside a terminal disease. Bruce's is a path all of us will have to take.
One day, and whether I like it or not, I won't have a choice. Neither will you, your best friend or worst enemy. If we could invest in the inevitability, we'd all be rich. The problem is; dying isn't sexy and it doesn't sell, while fear, denial and escapism is the defining hustle of our time.
For a writer, these details (or the lack thereof) can make or break a good piece. And, for someone still grieving, the missing pieces are just another reminder of how real a loss is.
Illustration by Peter Newell, in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, Charles E. Tuttle Company, Inc., 1968 When was the...
I've watched you continue on. You teach other peoples children. I watch you treat them with a unique kindness, only known to moms who have lost a child. Someone once said that being a mom is loving your children more than you've ever loved yourself. You are a true testament to that love.