You are currently browsing the Grieving Dads Project blog archives for May, 2011.
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Archive for May, 2011
“Give Yourself Permission” – Truisms About Grief
I have been posting a series of “Truisms About Grief” that I received from fellow grieving dad and friend, Charlie Schmidtke. I met Charlie as part of this grieving dads project. Please share your thoughts or stories regarding this subject.
Grieving is a time to give yourself permission to follow your heart and accept the reprioritizing of your life. My wife has been working very hard at getting me to reorient my attitude in life away from living by all the “shoulds” that seem to control what, when, and how I “ought to” behave. It’s okay to cry; it’s okay to relax: it’s okay to do that chore tomorrow; it’s okay to do nothing. It’s okay to have this attitude! It’s also okay to deeply feel that anxiety that attends to the unknown. We really do not have all the answers about who our children are now becoming and what their transformed life is all about. These issues will remain a mystery for us, even as we develop theories, beliefs and explanations to try and help assuage our anxieties. It is okay to have some level of anxiety; just prevent it from becoming an overpowering dread that consumes and destroys your capacity for continuing to live and have meaning in your life.
This is something I struggled with early in my grief. Giving myself permission or a “pass” to adjust things in my life didn’t seem acceptable. I had always been driven, and had always kept 2-3 separate to do lists; one for work, one for home and one for my personal life goals. I had things to do and enjoyed crossing things off my list. It gave me satisfaction to know that I was getting things accomplished.
Prior to my losses, I would put a lot of pressure on myself to perform to the highest level. I had gotten to the point where I would wake up in the middle of the night with anxiety attacks and even found myself in the hospital on one occasion because I thought I was having a heart attack. I was caught up in the rat race of life and my priorities were way out of line.
After the loss of my daughter Katie, my first loss, I thought I could go back to the person I was prior to her death. I tried suppressing the pain and was successful at it for about a year before anger and depression started to take over. A few months later, I lost my son Noah. These two losses forced me to reevaluate my life and how I approached it.
During my grief I met a lady which became a very dear friend. I was looking to hire her to do some real estate consulting for my small business. She had invited me to her home office for the meeting. During our meeting our conversation turned to my recent losses. She then shared with me that her hair was a wig and she was currently going through her third battle with breast cancer. We sat there for 3 hours crying and telling each other our stories. It was a gift that we had given each other. After our meeting she sent me an email saying that our meeting that day was not by accident and that she believed we were supposed to meet that day for a reason, to provide comfort to each other when we both needed it. She would continue to check in on me over the next several months, when I needed it most. On one occasion I told her that I was feeling depressed because I didn’t have the drive or desire to go back to the person I was before. Her response to me was “Kelly, there are no “should’s” in your life right now unless you put them there. Allow yourself to grieve and allow your wounds time to heal”. Her words really hit home with me. I started to reflect on my life up until this point. I realized I had been chasing things in life that really didn’t matter. What really mattered was the love I have for my wife and my children. At the end of the day and when you look back on your life, no one will remember all of the tasks that were checked off the “to do” list that was completed or the deadlines you were able to meet for work because you worked all weekend to get it done.
The message I took from this truism is: Give yourself permission to reevaluate your life and make the necessary adjustments in order to cope with what you have been through. You will never be the same person you were before the loss. To be honest with you, after I spent the much needed time reflecting, I realized that I didn’t want to be the same person I was before the loss. It was a hectic and empty life filled with deadlines and unrealistic expectations I placed on myself. I wasn’t living, I was surviving. Allow yourself to learn to live again.
My dear friend has since lost her battle with breast cancer but her words and wisdom will always stay with me. Thank you Lynda for being there for me and for being my dear friend.
“Me Rambling”
I am not sure if it’s the cloudy, rainy and cool spring here in the upper Midwest or something else that’s causing the rut I have been in for the last 2-3 weeks. Either way, I hate this feeling.
This time of year is also difficult for me for a couple different reasons other than desperate need for spring to arrive. It generally starts with April 23rd. This day is my daughter Katie’s birthday. She would have been 6 this year and just finishing up kindergarten. This year, April 23rd fell on Easter weekend. Easter always makes me think about my kids and how we would have spent this day. Maybe attending church service in their new Easter clothes and spending the afternoon looking for Easter eggs hidden around the yard after Easter brunch. I feel cheated that I never was able to enjoy these kinds of days with my beautiful babies.
This year on Katie’s’ birthday my wife’s aunt, uncle and cousin were visiting for Easter. I think they were a little surprised when we mentioned that we were celebrating Katie’s birthday with cake and a balloon release that we do every year. We all stood in our backyard and released 6 pink balloons and watched them until they disappeared. Our final release was a single blue balloon for my son Noah. We didn’t want him to feel left out of the party. However, when we released the blue balloon I started to weep. It usually hits me when we sing Happy Birthday, but this year I made it to the balloon release. I also noticed that everyone standing around me was also crying. Not that I want others to feel my pain, but it was nice to see others participate in this ritual and find it as powerful and moving as my wife and I do.
Of course Mother’s Day is a difficult day for me. Mainly because I know that my wife really struggles with it. I want to acknowledge her as the wonderful loving mommy that she is, but I also do not want to inflict pain on her by making too big of a deal over the day. I usually ask her how she wants me to approach it. It is always tough for me to go to the local card shop and try to find a Mother’s Day card that is vague in nature. I usually sign it from me, both of our angel babies (Katie and Noah) and our dog Buddy. Yesterday was that day and we survived it by hanging out together, making dinner, having a few glasses of wine and just talking. We even went and bought a Bose iPod docking system for the house. I think she tricked me into that Mother’s Day gift. She said it’s also part of my Father’s Day gift.
In addition to these difficult dates, I have been obsessing over and stressing out about not being able to find a publisher for the Grieving Dads book that I have been working on for the last year. I am tired of hearing from all of the publishers and literary agents that say “men don’t typically buy these types of books”. How do they know that? There isn’t anything on the market like this book. Not to mention, I think a lot of women will also buy this book. This book is a collection of candid face to face discussions between two men who have experienced life’s most profound events and survived it; somehow, someway.
The reality is publishers want to make money, the content of the book doesn’t matter to them, it’s all about the bottom line. I understand this, but with upwards of 1 million newly bereaved parents in the U.S. every year alone, I would think the numbers would be there for them.
Because of the publishers/agents responses, I have been second guessing whether or not this book is supposed to happen. Seems like every time I start to think along those lines I receive an email or phone call from a grieving dad (or mom) that thanks me and tells me how much this blog helps them. These messages reenergize me and give me the motivation to continue on and to not give up. In the last week I have made a commitment to rewrite a couple of chapters, change the title and do another round of query letters to the literary agents. For those of you that I have interviewed or those who have been waiting for this book, hang in there a little longer. I will make this happen one way or another. I may have to self-publish this book, but it will happen.
“Daddy is Broken”
The following poem was sent to me today by fellow grieving dad and friend Steven Stuart. Steven lost his son Colin to SIDS on March 2. Thank you to Steven for having the courage to write this poem to his son and for sharing it with other grieving dads.
“Daddy is Broken”
Where to start
What to say
My dearest Colin
Where are you today
My arms hold you not
My eyes no longer see
You are nowhere to be found
You are no longer with me
Dearest boy, I miss you so
Words escape me
Thoughts betray me
Daddy is broken
His soul torn apart
But you are forever in his heart
––
Colin Emanuel Stuart
January 2, 2011 – March 2, 2011
You are loved and missed my son!



