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Tuesday, May 22, 2012

"The Grief Club"

I was late to grief support last Friday, distracted by the constant unpacking. As I walked in my friend (the mother who lost three sons) said "better late than never" and handed me the book, The Grief Club. (by Melody Beattie)

There are seventeen chapters dealing with a crisis. Loss of child. Multiple deaths. Divorce. Alcoholism and drug addiction. Loss of home, health and career. For the most part there was a chapter for every bomb that went off in my life.

The chapter on losing a child, I learned a lot.

A bit (okay, a lot) of plagiarism follows.  For starters...
  • Statistics say before the end of the year one child you know will die. 
  • You don't eat an elephant all at once.  You eat it bite by bite. I don't want to eat an elephant.  I know, but there's one on your plate.
  • Don't complicate grief. It's not abnormal. There isn't a right way to grieve.  Becoming aware of a feeling neutralizes that emotion......Some losses don't have an ending.  We still miss the person, but we go on with life. 
  • There's more. Stop working for the prize. Stop dating to get married. Stop dressing to control what people think.  It's all about control.  Control doesn't keep us safe, even though we think it does.....So each thing for itself. Be there while you're doing it. Stop being someplace else. Let life be what it is.
  • Stop looking for Big.
"Stop looking for Big" confused me at first because at first I thought she was referring to Big in Sex and the City.  I love my Chris Noth but not my MS-addled brain.

I don't think most of us look for Big after the loss of a child. Everything becomes immaterial. 

Case in point:  Going from lots of income to no income is easy because I've learned what is real and what is not. I don't care if I never upgrade my Photoshop 3 to Photoshop 6 but I care if Nicole's art is never framed. 

Priorities.

10 comments:

Big Mark 243 said...

The other day my deaf friend asked me if I knew what you were saying in one of your videos. I did not have a clue, but I watch them as if I knew exactly what you were saying, because one day I will. She said it was deep and emotional.

I did not mean to digress, but I wanted to let you know that you are dear in my heart. Take care and be well!

jenny_o said...

That sounds like a very good book for those who are grieving. And none of us know when we might be doing that next - or again.

The Elephant's Child said...

That sounds like a truly wonderful book. And the excerpts you quoted hit home for me anyway.
Thank you.

SoberMomRocks said...

Stupid toes.

The Other Sherry

bugerlugs63 said...

I've eaten the elephants ears . . there's quite a lot left of him.
Sounds like a good book Sherry, for all sorts of issues.
Take good care and thanks

Have Myelin? said...

Hey Santa Mark - did she tell you I did a lot of "hang-wringing" too? I noticed when I played it back - I also say "anyway" often.

Hi Other Sherry, "stupid toes, stupid ankle". I banged my left ankle on the rocking chair. I am beginning to think my foot is under a violent, unplanned attack.

Elephant ears are hard to eat, digest and it sure leaves a lot of poop along the way does it Bugerlugs?

Elephant, I think I have a lot I could post from her book... she lost her son after the publication of her book - she's the author of "Codependent No More". I have never read it but I've certainly heard about it.

Jenny, I think some of us get walloped all at once and others get it slowly...over time. All at once is too much, I think.

Annette said...

Ohhhh that last sentence. I hear you mama.

Diane J Standiford said...

Wait, you have made videos??? Must look into that. I sign a bit, enough to help people on buses or customers. OK, I am living "forget about big, small is your new 'big,' enjoy THAT.

Diane J Standiford said...

Oh, and I have not personally known of many children or even young adults who have died, BUT the one (my uncle) who did at age 13 has affected generations of people over 100 years onward. And I think often of my cousin who hung herself in her early 20s.--it weighs on me and I feel, will always feel, that I might have been able to help her. I don't want to ever stop bearing that weight---I don't ever WANT to forget what happened and why because it forms my current choices and I hope I help others. In that way, I hope I honor her short life. I hope I am a better person.

Syd said...

I haven't read that book. I think that it might be one that I would like to read.