Healing the Heart – Caring again

“Grief is not a disorder, a disease or a sign of weakness. It is an emotional, physical and spiritual necessity, the price you pay for love. The only cure for grief is to grieve.” ~Earl Grollman
(from Guideposts Through Grief, a Hospice of Dayton publication).

I am slowly clawing my way up out of the abyss that began on December 2 with the words form my brother-in-law, “Your sister called from the ER. She wanted me to tell you because she can’t tell you herself. The CT scan showed that your mother has cancer throughout her abdomen.”

Someday maybe I’ll share some of the details that haunt my mind and spring up unannounced of the the ER trips, hospital stays, Hospice stay, bedside death vigils. But for now, I am trying to heal my heart and reclaim my life.

And you, my dear blog readers and blogging friends are a good strong root I can grasp on my climb. I hope to be visiting all of your blogs soon and spend a little time with each of you to catch up.

Life nudges me forward—a visit with grandchildren, practical matters of our parents’ personal property to sort and a house to prepare for sale, a son’s marriage proposal, a daughter’s oral surgery, a trip to plan. Life goes on.

Never have I waited for Spring with more hope. The past few days the weather carries that first touch of warmth and the birdsong is of spring. I can sense it in the air. Crocus and daffodil bulbs are sprouting.

Thank you for all the kind words and support throughout. They have been a comfort to me.

2013-02-13-Daffodils

33 thoughts on “Healing the Heart – Caring again”

  1. You have been on my mind and in my prayers, Christine. It has been such a long and difficult journey for you and your family but spring is coming and as your grief journey continues there is much that will bring you joy . Know that prayers are being offered for you and yours . Hugs.

  2. I’ve been thinking of you, Christine, and I’m so happy to read this post. I’m looking forward to spring, too, so I can only imagine your longing. What a winter. I’m here to grab on to — let me be one of your good strong roots. xo

  3. Hi Christine .. that full schedule doesn’t go away does it … the grandchildren will take your mind off things … and the trip will be a big change … Life will be different – but just down to you and your own family and friends … and you won’t be anxious about your parents anymore … look after yourself … sounds like you’re in the right frame of mind and moving on slowly – that’s the main thing right now … with many thoughts – Hilary

    1. Thanks, Hilary. That is one big plus, I don’t have the anxiety about my parents anymore, but my mind hasn’t quite gotten used to it yet. I sometimes find myself thinking I should give my mom a call. It will take time, I know.

  4. {{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{Hugs to you}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}
    A parent’s death is so difficult. After my father passed, it took a full year before I noticed long strings of good days return to my life. (if that makes any sense, i’m not sure)
    Spring is such a rebirth and this year it will be especially so for you.
    I’m so sorry for your loss.

    1. Thanks for sharing your experience. Losing both of my parents at the same time has left a rather big hole in my heart and in my life, although we are pretty busy right now trying to distribute their personal property and clean out their house in the hope to sell it come spring. I’m expecting it to take at least a year. I know I will never go back to being who I was. The loss of parents is a life-altering event. I guess I never really thought about how it would affect me before now. Thanks for your concern.

    1. Thanks for your concern. I’m taking it one day at a time, and truthfully, am being kept pretty busy by the things that need to be done to try to get their house ready for sale come spring. I’m struggling along. I am crying less, and sleeping better some nights. I know it will take time and I am prepared for that. I’ll be by your blog soon, I hope. It will be like a little bit of normalcy I so desperately crave.

    1. You’re welcome. I don’t know if it is helping me or not. I seem to have trouble writing much about it right now. I guess I finally answered the question, “Is there nothing you’re not willing to write about?” Maybe with time.

  5. Just dropped by to see how you are doing and I see you are coming along. When my mother died five years ago now someone told me something that has stuck with me and actually made me feel better. Some people thing one should grieve and get over it but this young woman told me how she see grief. She said, “It doesn’t get easier or better. It just changes with time.” I still miss my mom and always will but with the passing of time it has changed. It is still there but different. Take care.

    1. Thanks for sharing that Renee. At this point, I look to get to that place where I will feel normal again, but am beginning to think I will never be able to return to who I was. There will be a new normal. I know it won’t always hurt like this. It hurts less now than it did in the early days of December when we were stunned by the news of Mom’s cancer. We never actually got out of those days as she began her rapid decline, and then Dad followed. I don’t have the intense fear I used to experience. Just sadness and loss.
      Thanks for your support.

      1. I cannot have your feelings as no one can have the same feelings over the loss of loved ones but I do understand. I wish for you all the best and do hope you have family for support as well. Take care.

  6. Thanks for checking in when you have the time. It’s always good to hear from you. We await spring together. The squirrels have started chasing each other, the male doves occasionally stalk the females, and there is music in the air.

    1. I saw the squirrels chasing each other as well. I thought I had smelled spring in the air the other day, but mother nature has sent us a blast of frigid air. I’m not sure what the groundhog was up to this year. I guess we may have to wait to mid-March after all, but that’s not so very far away.

  7. Hello, Christine. Through my travels, I’ve thought about you and how you are doing. I hope you are slowly finding the openings to move forward. Sending you warm hugs.

    1. Thank you. I am moving forward, just stopping to cry every now and then. I don’t fight the tears, but allow them to come at will. I measure my success by the fact that I cry less and less with each passing day. It was nice of you to think of me through your travels. I need to pay you a visit to see where you’ve been. Thanks for stopping by.

    1. Thanks, Robin. I know most people experience what I’m going through at some point or the other, and it actually helps to know that I am not alone.

  8. I’m reading this now after a difficult few days; my mother’s been diagnosed, but they might have caught the cancer early. They’re looking at surgery quickly having had found the source, and possibly chemo to take care of anything else.

    It’s not the sort of news you want to hear, and I’d thought of what you’ve been going through after finding out.

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