Two days ago I attended my first bereavement support group. It was exactly what I expected and it was nothing like I expected. Is it impossible to be two entirely different things at the same time? Under normal circumstances I would answer yes but we all know that these are far from normal circumstances.
I have been seeing a social worker through Hospice for individual grief counseling for the past four months. She has been very good for me and I enjoy our sessions. I think she would report that I seem to be doing well and have made significant progress since first we met. I would agree with that assessment. I have also attended a Hospice sponsored seminar about grief and the holidays. Of course most of my grief healing so far has happened with my writing and under the influence of my friend Rebecca, her wisdom and reiki. I know those methods are not often employed by victims of loss, but I am not only an advocate for how effective they can be, I am also a success story.
Many of the writings I put here have references to Coleen. Most do, actually. And that is as it should be since I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for her and my loss. This story is no different. The support group was held in the offices of the Life Transition Center located at 1140 Delaware Avenue in Buffalo, which was once one of the many mansions along that street. I mention the address for two reasons. Previous to being the home of Life Transitions Center, this building was owned by Gilda’s Club, a non-profit organization that offered various supports and programs to people with cancer and their families. Coleen used the meeting rooms at Gilda’s Club many times to host the educational programs she held in her role of Patient Services Manager for an oncology organization. Yes, in a cruel irony, Coleen was an oncology social worker and spent many of her working hours helping cancer patients get through the stages of their diagnosis and disease.
I had never been inside this building before although I have driven past it many times. I thought of Coleen when I realized where the building was and what it used to be. And I thought of her as I arrived and walked in the front door. Here I was entering this beautiful building, a place where she had been so many times, for the first time. And I was there because of her and, in certain ways, for her. As I entered the meeting room, I took a seat and just looked around at the beauty of the room, the height of the ceilings. I closed my eyes, smiled, and let the presence and the moment take me over. It was only for a minute, but I let the thought of sharing the same space with Coleen again sink in. It was at a different time, but we both were in the same building, the same room, and I once again felt her presence with me. briefly, strongly.
I had been looking forward to being in a group environment since the early days of Coleen’s passing. I felt very strongly that losing a spouse was very a very different loss from any other and because of that, wanted to be in a group specific to widows and widowers. Not to diminish losing a parent or a sibling or even a child, I just wanted to share my time and experiences with others like me. This group contained three women, four men and we had all recently lost our spouse. The time since our losses varied from one month to 86 days to seven months, but in all our cases, we were all very wounded and needy. One of my lessons learned is that I feel better when talking about Coleen, our relationship and my loss. It is good therapy for me to bring her up and discuss those subjects. My trouble with that is in finding people to talk with, people who will let me speak my truths. I know that is why writing is therapeutic for me because it lets me get thoughts, memories and tears out without needing a listener. But there is nothing like talking to people who are interested in what you might have to say, people who are with similar pains to yours. I was excited about being in a room with my brothers and sisters in loss so that I could both hear and be heard. I wasn’t sure what I was more interested in, getting help from them or being helpful to them. Having never been in a group environment before, I guess I didn’t realize that’s pretty much how the whole thing works. You give, you get. You speak, you listen. You comfort, you get comforted.
I had so much to say. The group environment allows for everyone to talk and have an equal amount of time but selfishly, I wanted more than my share. All of the survivors in that room had stories of their husband or wife and their loss. Each of those stories was a sad one and by listening to the survivors tell them, I learned more. I wanted to tell more of what I have discovered in my journey, speak of some the lessons I have learned since Coleen’s death. I thought by sharing some of those lessons I could offer some help and comfort to others. I also knew that it would make me feel better by talking about my discoveries. By speaking my truths to people in my situation, I would be able to heal and be healed.
So when will I stop learning about loss? When will I stop healing? I had a friend in high school named Paul who was a very accomplished pianist. Paul took lessons twice a week and one day I asked him how long he planned on taking piano lessons. Paul looked at me like I had two heads and replied, “I’ll always take piano lessons. There’s always more to learn. My teacher is 82 years old and he takes lessons.” All through my life I have remembered that conversation with my friend Paul. I have pulled it out a few times before when the lesson seemed appropriate, but it has never been more appropriate than right now. Just like Paul, I will never stop learning of loss and healing. And perhaps, just like Paul’s teacher, I can somehow teach and learn at the same time. All of us in the support group are there for help. But by just being there and telling the stories of our loss, we are helping everyone else in the room. We are helping to heal each other as we heal ourselves.
At the end of the session, I read a quote called “Letting Go” that I discovered last week at yoga class. Everyone there seemed to like it and I liked sharing it with them. I want to share more but I don’t want to become one of those overbearing people who act like they know so much. Since the beginning of my process and through all the messages I’ve been sent, I have always believed that I have been given an assignment. Coleen was a healer. She spent much of her time helping and comforting people and I believe she left me the gifts of her enthusiasm and passion. I want to use those gifts to bring comfort and peace to others. Without being a pain in their ass.
This week we are supposed to bring a photo of our spouse to support group and a memento of some sort. I haven’t decided which ones to bring yet, but they will come with stories to tell. This week I will also make sure that my fellow surviving spouses get one of my cards with the website listed on it. I didn’t want to hand them out right away last week because I thought that would be a little too pushy. I’m ready to do it this week, though. It’s a good way for me to communicate with others. A good way for me be healed so I can help heal.
One of these days I ‘m going to go back through all the writings on this website. I’m going to review all the notebooks I’ve written in and all the scraps of paper I’ve scribbled on and saved in a big pile. I am going to read all the writings in my journal. I’m going to do all these things to refresh my memory on all the ways Coleen has communicated with me since she died. She has been very creative in getting messages to me and in making her presence felt and I am thankful that I am aware enough to notice those contacts.
I believe she was reaching out to me again last night when I was sleeping. I know I dream a lot but I am not good at remembering dreams. There always seems to be some kind of blockage with me when it comes to them. I wake up with a sense of having traveled somewhere and experienced something, but I can rarely remember what or where. Once in a while I wake up in time to capture what I was dreaming and that happened to me last night. Months ago, I met with Coleen’s friend Jillian and she told me things to expect from Coleen, her spirit, her spirituality. Jillian told me not to be surprised if Coleen came to me during the night when I was in our bed sleeping. She said that when we sleep, our conscious state is very near to energies on the other side and we are very receptive to contact from those energies.
My experience is that Coleen comes to me in the night. I first noticed it a few days after she died. On previous nights, I went to bed exhausted and fell quickly asleep. I would wake in the morning and find my blankets and sheets virtually identical to the way they looked when I climbed into bed. I slept so soundly that I hardly disturbed anything. Then one night that all changed as I tossed and turned and was unsettled all night. I felt a presence there with me, almost like wrestling me under the sheets. When Coleen and I slept together during her last few months, I was very careful to be a still in bed as possible. She struggled with sleep and was sometimes in pain so I wanted her to be as comfortable as possible. That was hard for me when all I wanted to do was hold her and tell her I loved her. I had control over very little, but those were two signs I could send her telling her how I felt about her. I know she knew, but I really wanted to hold her more than I could. So I tried to sleep as quietly as I could and I think I made a new habit of that which carried through to today. That night when I was wrestling myself, I know I had company in my bed.
I was troubled for a while because I was not having dreams with Coleen in them. Even though I don’t remember dreams that well, I didn’t think she was in whatever dreams I was having. That had changed recently though. During the past couple months I have awoken with remnants of dreams that Coleen was in. They are bizarre, never making much sense. None of them have had any special revelations that I can recall although for all I know, she is telling me all the secrets of life and I don’t remember. It is interesting to me that when I see Coleen in my dreams, it is always the pre-cancer Coleen. It is her with dark hair, almost shoulder length. It is her younger, healthy, vital, sassy and beautiful.
This morning I woke up early, around 5:00 AM. I was just lying in bed for a few minutes when it dawned on me that I had been dreaming. And my dream was about Coleen and me. She was talking to me, like she always did. She was giving me some advise, like she did to everybody. She had some knowledge to share and I was the one who needed to know what she knew. I’m still a little awed that I have recall of this dream, so it must be pretty important. Coleen was talking to me about a friend of ours and telling me that she and her husband, another friend of ours, were getting divorced. Coleen thought I might want to stay close to that situation because she thought that girl and I might be good together. Now, I know that scenario is crazy because that couple is not going to split up. But dreams happen for a reason so there must have been some message there for me to figure out. I’ll have to work on that. Leave it to Coleen though to try her hand at matchmaking from heaven. On her husband. When the two of us talked about me finding someone after her, I half expected her to tell me who I should get together with. Maybe last night she wasn’t telling me who, but perhaps who not.
There was another sign from Coleen last night that was not a dream. I was out most of the day and came home around 7:00 PM. It had snowed a lot all day and before going inside, I shoveled the snow from my front sidewalk and porch. As I finished, I glanced skyward and damn if I didn’t see the moon in its waxing crescent, smiling down on me. Now the weather has been winter for weeks and the sky has been perpetually cloudy, so to see the moon after so many nights of it hidden was a gift to me. But our sky was not really clear, and as I looked above, wisps of clouds crossed the moon’s path. As they did, it created a flickering effect with the moonlight and I imagined the moon winking at me. Smiling and winking. Alas, I welcomed that feeling, along with the accompanying chills up my spine, for only a minute or two before big clouds hid the moon from me once again. I don’t know how long the moon was visible before I noticed it, but I suspect it wasn’t long. I was in the right place to see, recognize, feel and enjoy the sign it sent. Now I just have to figure it all out.
I always knew that one of my discoveries on this journey would be of meeting a woman. In calendar days, it hasn’t been all that long since Coleen passed but in emotional time, it has been much longer. I have missed everything about Coleen including the things she did that sometimes annoyed me. There is nothing I wouldn’t give to see a pile of her worn clothes on a chair in my bedroom or to hear her tell me I’m drinking too much. I obviously miss the physical intimacy we shared but more than that, I miss the daily intimacy that a relationship brings. The everyday things like phone calls, planning, making dinner, and talking about family are some of the things that go into a relationship and I have done little if any of that.
Coleen told me to find someone. We talked about many things leading up to her death and one of those was her wish for me to find someone. “You’re going to need companionship. It won’t be good for you to be alone.” Those were pretty much her exact words on the subject. At the time I just kind of laughed at the thought of finding someone after her and the difficulty of that task. Coleen once said, “I’m not everyone’s cup of tea,” and that was very true. But she was my cup of tea and I knew it would be challenging, to say the least, to find someone after her.
I have met with a few women during the past month, mostly through an on-line dating service. I have not met anyone of interest but have learned some things about myself. Of course I would learn things about myself in those situations. My sense of awareness seems so heightened 100% of the time these days, I’m always on high alert for discovery, especially when it comes to me. I am much more relaxed in people situations than I have ever been. People always described me as extroverted when in reality, I considered myself more the opposite. Sure, I could comfortably talk to anyone and could fit into most social settings. But I wasn’t always comfortable inside when doing that. It often felt like there was an internal conflict going on with me trying to be outgoing at the same time my other part just wanted to roll up on the couch and watch a movie. My son Patrick has always had great confidence in me as an extrovert. He has seen me in many environments including at work, where I played the roles of boss and also head salesman and public relations guy. So he saw me in all my roles of life and was impressed with what he considered to be talents of mine.
In the past I would question that. But sitting here today, I very much agree with Patrick’s contention. I am now not only much more extroverted, but very comfortable with it. I was at a musical venue Saturday watching a band and during one of their breaks, I introduced myself to the singer. I talked with her for a few minutes and told her how much I enjoyed her voice and her music. In the past I would not have done that. I would have thought about doing it but I would have talked myself out of it. Later that day I also introduced my self to the band’s namesake and keyboard player and we also had a nice chat. Those are just two examples of me “putting myself out there,” as my friend Rebecca puts it. There are many other instances of that behavior from me, things that happen almost daily it seems. It might just be the way I talk to the check-out clerk in the grocery store or someone at my gym, but it is now a regular and noticeable practice. I am just more comfortable with people and that is all a result of being more comfortable with myself.
That new confidence and belief in myself led to a success story of mine that happened yesterday. I met a woman from Hospice several weeks ago with a very impressive message. I thought her message should be heard by others and contacted another woman who facilitates the metastatic breast cancer support group Coleen attended. I put the two of them in touch with each other and then got out of the way and yesterday, that support group heard the message I thought would be important to them. And they all loved hearing it. That is one small event but I am proud that it happened and that it happened because of me and my newness. I want to contribute to more things like that and I’m certain that is part of my new destiny.
So why wouldn’t that new self-assuredness surface in everything I do and everyone I talk to? It does. I don’t know if people who have known me notice it. And the people I meet now have nothing to compare it to, so they think I have always been the way I am. Which I probably always have been, it’s just that I never knew how to let go enough of my self-doubts to let my true self surface. How easy do you think it is for a guy like me to talk to a woman I have never met? In the past I would have spoken intelligently enough but inside I would have been distressed. In the present, I am comfortable and confident. I think I am interesting and funny and have enough of an edge to keep people just a little bit off balance. I like that. Someone recently told me to look at these meetings as if I was interviewing someone. That I had a job opening to offer the right applicant. I’m not sure I can be quite that egotistical but I do like the concept.
I have rambled a lot on this post, going from dating to being extroverted and back again. They are seemingly unrelated subjects that have become related for me. The point of this is how my character has evolved and I have used the dating thing as an example. Or perhaps the real point is announcing that I have put myself in play and I am quite comfortable with myself in that role. Either way, it’s a sign of progress like when you see that sign on the highway that says your exit is 494 miles away when it started at 750. It’s just all part of the journey for me which keeps changing course and taking new direction. More interesting, more confusing all the time.
I have been influenced by the “Letting Go” reflection that was read during yoga class last week. Apparently it has had some impact on people I have shared it with and I am encouraged to share it with others. It has had significant impact on me as I have taken some steps toward dealing with Coleen’s death that I have been putting off. They haven’t been huge steps but anything I do these days that feels like closure seems like a sign of progress. I believe that by reinforcing my truths, that passage has also allowed me to develop a little further in becoming my new self.
Coleen’s nightstand was a constant collection of random thoughts. It was usually littered with books she was reading and notes she was making and various medications. Since her passing, I cleaned that up along with the top of her dresser and removed all signs of sickness. I kept some special items on her nightstand and it had a kind of shrine quality to it that reminded me of her. In a way I wanted to preserve things as she had them so I could prolong her life instead of letting go. That was obviously not a reality but it became my way of holding on to her. Four days ago, I put all of those things away.
On the third floor of my house there is a family room that used to be an attic. It has had many different uses over the years, most recently a bedroom for Patrick during the months before and after Coleen’s death. When he left for New York City in November, the room was a mess and I had transferred some of the more unpleasant reminders of Coleen’s final days up there to get them out of sight. When I decided last week to recreate that room into something usable, it forced me to deal with those unpleasantries. There were two wicker baskets with items she had used when she was sleeping downstairs during her last weeks. There was also a shopping bag from the funeral home which I had placed all the sympathy cards in along with the sign-in book and mementos from her wake. And of course the three poster boards with all those photos on them. I emptied the wicker baskets, put the funeral home bag in a box in a closet for safekeeping and disassembled the photo boards. The room on the third level of my house will now be used for yoga, learning to play piano, and hosting my granddaughters as a playroom when they come over to visit.
I have a closet full of Coleen’s clothes. Before Christmas I washed her winter coats and donated them to my friend’s clothing drive for needy children but I have done nothing with her clothes. That closet is still an uncomfortable place for me. Whenever I walk in I try not to look at her clothes hanging there for fear that I will see a dress or top that will rain memories upon me. Coleen had eclectic tastes in clothes and she owned some pretty funky things which she wore very well. Lots of scarves and lots of colors and prints. My daughter and Coleen’s sister have both told me they would help me go through her things and decide what they wanted to keep. The rest I want to let go of. Hopefully I can get everyone here this week and we can sort that out.
The bedroom Coleen and I shared for so many years is getting a little bit of a makeover. Besides the removal of some of Coleen’s items, I have traded the comforter and pillows from our guest bed for the ones on my bed. It is a more masculine appearance but more than that, it is a different appearance and I like that. I have also decided to start sleeping on her side of the bed and did that last night. That side was mine for a long time until Coleen decided we should occasionally rotate sides. We did that once. Today I will be moving some of the furniture around in there, too. At a Hospice grief seminar I attended in December, the speaker told of how he rearranged his father’s bedroom after his mother passed away. He removed her clothes and belongings and changed the layout of the room for which his father was very appreciative. Apparently, it helped his father in his healing process. I have been delaying that action for quite some time but now feel it’s another way of letting go.
I had another grief counseling session with my Hospice counselor three days ago. Before I went, I printed a copy of the “Letting Go” reading I got from yoga. I thought she might already be aware of it, but I wanted to show her just in case she wasn’t. I ended up reading it to her because I thought it was the best way to present that message. It took me a little longer to get through than I thought it would and I had to pause a few times for composure, but I read it out loud to her and she just loved it. She asked for a copy and I gave her the one I brought. I was so happy to share that message with her because I know she will pass it on to others, just as I have been doing. It will be heard tomorrow for the first time by a group of Coleen’s fellow metastatic survivors. I sent it to my friend Barb who in turn passed it on to several people. Tomorrow she will read it at the metastatic breast cancer support group she attends which is the same one Coleen attended, too. It will have very special meaning there because although the words will come from Barb’s mouth, they will come from Coleen. Just as I first heard Coleen deliver them to me through the voice of my yoga instructor, I know Barb will let those women in on the secret of “Letting Go.”
Sometimes I wonder why I do some of the things I do. And then I do them and something happens as a result and I say, “Oh, that’s why I did that.” It doesn’t always have to be a big thing like retiring or buying a new car. Sometimes it’s just deciding to go out for some music or to meet someone. Or today when I went to a yoga class at the last minute.
It wasn’t quite the last minute. I have actually been planning to go since Christmas when my daughter gave me a gift certificate to Healing Waters, the studio where Coleen attended so many classes. I also attended two separate six-week Intro to Yoga classes there and I was anxious to continue with yoga. Yesterday I had an epiphany telling me that I needed a lot more yoga in my life so I decided to attend the 9:30 AM class this morning. It was “Gentle and Restorative Yoga” and was one of Coleen’s favorite classes there. She attended it often. I will admit to procrastinating about yoga since Christmas and I was pleased with myself when I left the house a few minutes early this morning even though the temperature was below zero. I could have easily used the “it’s too cold to go anywhere” excuse, but I didn’t.
As I drove this morning, the sky was clear and the sun was shining brightly in my driver-side front window. There was a song playing in my car that I was hearing for the first time called “Until the Colours Run.” I didn’t know what it meant but I liked it. I drove past a patch of tall trees and the sunlight flickered through them and pulsed through my window onto my face, winking at me. The song hit the chorus, the sunlight perfect, open road ahead and a sudden surge of goosebumps made its way up and down my spine and through my crown. I was very peaceful just then, content, on my way to one of Coleen’s favorite places. Knowing I wasn’t alone.
Today was the first time I attended an official, open yoga class. Today I wasn’t just another beginner trying to learn yoga without pulling a muscle or making loud noises. I was in a class with people (women) who were experienced and I was expected to have a working knowledge of yoga. I was very comfortable with that and kind of proud actually when the instructor said “table position” or “downward-facing dog” and I knew what to do. I am still very much a beginner, but I didn’t feel out of place today. The Gentle and Restorative class is just that. It has a lot of stretching and restoration of the body using assorted yoga postures. What I especially liked about it was that it also stretches and restores the mind and the spirit through those same yoga postures. I was very receptive today and able to cleanse my mind of thoughts that didn’t belong in that room. I was very able to be present. I heard things differently today than before.
At one point our instructor Sue, had us in mountain posture which is basically just standing straight, still and strong. She was encouraging us in that posture and said “… like a mountain. Tremendous strength, incredible beauty.” Tremendous strength, incredible beauty. What a beautiful thing to hear. I have heard all those words before although never strung together in that sequence. And in hearing them spoken so confidently that way, I took confidence and comfort from them . I can be that. Everything can be that. Coleen epitomized that. I heard those words like it was the first time I had heard the English language. They sounded so inspiring to me.
I heard other things clearly today too. I heard my body talk to me, telling me it was okay to challenge it more. That it could absorb a little more stretching, it could go little further. And I heard my mind tell me the same things. It was ready to be cleansed of some emotional debris to make room for new creations and thoughts. And of course, I heard Coleen very clearly. It made sense that she was there. That was when I realized why I decided yesterday, after postponing for over a month, to attend yoga class today. It was when we were relaxing in meditative postures toward the end of the class. Sue was reading a beautiful reflection about letting go and behind my closed eyes, I was seeing the most brilliant shades of fuchsia I have seen. They were swimming in and out of clouds, playfully, changing shades from light to dark, tempting me to give chase. It was the same vision I have had during reikis and massages. The same vision I always get when Coleen visits. The colors were fitting of the message Sue was reading about letting go:
“…The energy will be a part of you forever. It has made you what you are today. What will be, will be what you create. If you move forward hopefully, happily, expectantly and joyfully, then that will be your new experience. We can drag the past with us as heavy baggage, or we can carry the blessings and memories of the past as a beautiful memento. We can face the future with apprehension or with faith. One thing is certain, there will always be a past we must make peace with. There will always be a future we must live. The way we let go can make all the difference.”
With the vision of fuchsias floating around those wonderful words spoken about letting go, I couldn’t help a few tears leaking from my eyes. I guess that was probably the point where the “Oh, that’s why I did that,” realization kicked in. That’s when I knew for certain why I did what I did today and why I was at Healing Waters. I had a date to be there. A date to learn about having Tremendous Strength and Incredible Beauty from the strongest, most beautiful person I’ll ever know.
This is the entire reflection that Sue read today. I think it’s beautiful and am so happy she shared it with me. You know, if I had waited until tomorrow or next week to attend a yoga class, I wouldn’t have heard this.
“Letting it go – it is a rite of passage. We all face those moments throughout our lives. Time and circumstance repeatedly require that we let go of what we know – the old, the familiar, the comfortable – and embrace the “next”. There are people who spend their whole lives resisting those moments. They hold on, physically or energetically to the past, and they never really find peace in the present. Whether we must move beyond a person, a property, an employment, a location, an activity or something else, we have only two choices. We can go gently and easily – or not. We can go confidently – or fearfully. We can go looking forward – or looking back. We can hold on, or we can let go. What has been, whether you judge it good or bad, has been filled with lessons, and blessings, and experiences. Honor them all. Take the time to remember with gratitude and appreciation. Understand that nothing you have ever done will ever be lost. The energy will be a part of you forever. It has made you what you are today. What will be, will be what you create. If you move forward hopefully, happily, expectantly and joyfully, then that will be your new experience. We can drag the past with us as heavy baggage, or we can carry the blessings and memories of the past as a beautiful momento. We can face the future with apprehension or with faith. One thing is certain. there will always be a past we must make peace with. There will always be a future we must live. The way we let go can make all the difference.”