Reply
Tue 10 Apr, 2007 09:26 am
I'm putting this here. It is somewhat is a relationship issue, and a relationship issue is what brought me to truly digging into it.
Primarily, to keep it short, my rather ineffectual ways of communicating within very close relationships and the trouble that brings!
I've been very interested in the ways people grieve. Their rituals. The ways we all remember people who have been near and dear to us.
Keep them alive and find ways to move on in a healthy way.
I've also been putting together my own way to officially honour someone. It is long overdue. It's also something I feel deep within I absolutely need to do.
Concrete things.
I've thought about this a lot, because, frankly, the loss of a few people set a course for most of my life until now.
Without properly grieving, it determined a course for me.
I'm sure this will make sense to some of you.
My family grieves and honours in two ways only: drinking, and putting on an appearance of moving on and being strong.
When someone very dear to me mentioned that I do not cry - I thought about that - and what I found was somewhat shocking to me.
It's true. I can't remember myself crying in front of those close to me with very few exception.
Worse - how I have acted and dealt with those who cry in front of me, or to me.
I only mention this because - since I don't drink except to get trashed once or twice a year or to have a glass of wine - I'm finding that I'm pretty damn clueless in how to go about this.
And I also know I will be 'breaking new ground' and some will be resistance/antagonistic if I were to share or if they were to be part of any of this.
And for some of it, it will be out there for them to see, it needs to be.
I'm talking about speaking and dealing with those who were a part of the one I am rememberings life.
Getting information or sharing of feelings has been like trying to draw blood from a stone. I have encountered a lot of anger and dismissal.
I've probably said too much, but whatever. It's staying here. Maybe somebody will relate.
Care to share how you have remembered and honoured someone gone? The actual mechanics of it?
Some nice way you have 'brought it all together' for yourself and others?
How did it help you to move on, to celebrate life, or to remember the person in special way?
Thanks for reading and anything you may share.
There is a lady on my block, widowed, who had adored her husband. She wrote up an entire memoir about his life, with many pictures, and their life together. She had it self published, and made enough copies for the kids, grandkids, nieces and nephews.
She showed me the book, and I glanced through it. It was one of most touching things that I have seen.
My father had arranged to donate his body to science so when he died, after a long illness, it was whisked away. I was half a continent away.
Mr. B loaded me into the car and we drove to the ocean. We hiked straight up a mountain onto sheer cliffs overlooking the Pacific; the very site, it is said, where Meriweather Lewis noted in his journal that ""I beheld the grandest and most pleasing prospect which my eyes ever surveyed".
We dangled our legs off the cliff and toated my dad with a nice cognac, tossing him a shot into the wind.
We made a habit of toasting my dad every year on the anniversary of his death from this spot. Each year I would pluck a bit of fern and tuck it into the pocket of a little moleskin notebook I carried just for the occassion.
Then Mo moved in and the prospect of him running loose on unprotected cliffs high above the ocean put a stop to it. I knew my dad wouldn't mind. He would have so loved Mo.
We still drink a toast to my dad on that date and when Mo gets a little bigger we will resume our trek.
A tribute doesn't have to be meaningful to anyone but you.
Do something you know the person you are honoring would have loved to do with you. It will fill your heart with joy.
I've sometimes added a special plant to my garden for remembrance.
My husband (my lover, my best friend, my soulmate, my business partner) died a few years ago. I cannot imagine trying to share my grief in the manner that I think you mean -- just isn't done within my family or his, nor is it within me to do it with them -- so I don't know if I can help you or not. But, just in case, I will say that small, personal rituals, usually surrounded by music or nature, have helped greatly. And since you ask for "mechanics", I'll add this example:
We enjoyed travel. Last year, I went to Panama and stayed at a spa resort at the confluence of the the Chagres River and the Canal. I took a small something of his with me. At sunset one day, I went down to the river and, among the water birds and waterlilies, set it on a leaf and sent it down the river pouring a bottle of the local beer in its wake. When it met the canal, the current would take it to either the Pacific or the Atlantic (depending on which way the Canal water was flowing at that time of day, I never found out and it really didn't matter). Sotto voce, I sang:
We turn away to face the cold, enduring chill
As the day begs the night for mercy love
The sun so bright it leaves no shadows
Only scars carved into stone
On the face of earth
The moon is up and over One Tree Hill
We see the sun go down in your eyes
You run like a river, on like a sea
You run like a river runs to the sea
And in the world a heart of darkness
A fire zone
Where poets speak their heart
Then bleed for it
Jara sang, his song a weapon
In the hands of love
You know his blood still cries
From the ground
It runs like a river runs to the sea
It runs like a river to the sea
I don't believe in painted roses
Or bleeding hearts
While bullets rape the night of the merciful
I'll see you again
When the stars fall from the sky
And the moon has turned red
Over One Tree Hill
We run like a river
Run to the sea
We run like a river to the sea
And when it's raining
Raining hard
That's when the rain will
Break my heart
Raining...raining in the heart
Raining in your heart
Raining...raining to your heart
Raining, raining...raining
Raining to your heart
Raining...raining in your heart
Raining in your heart..
To the sea
Oh great ocean
Oh great sea
Run to the ocean
Run to the sea
-- U2 "One Tree Hill"
<well that made me cry, Tico>
flushd, if you're reading these...and I'm sure you are...you'll see that there is no right way, no proper mechanics for how to grieve. Grieving is not a thing that machines do. It is a human thing. So make it human. It is a private thing that nobody has to know about but you, and perhaps in your imagination, that past person for whom you show love.
I don't think there is a RIGHT way to grieve.
I am not a big crier, especially with people around, but when my grandmal died, it took me a long time to get over it, and I spent lots of time in secluded spots just remembering her and things she/we did, and crying.
Recently somebody died, and apart from sadness I was left with a sense of guilt that I did not manage to show my baby son to him before he died.
But things like that can not be changed afterwards so I sometimes in a quiet minute take one of the wine glasses he bought for me, fill it, and drink to the hope that he is in a better world without pain and reunited with his wife.
eoe wrote:My father and I used to go to the movies on Sunday afternoon. It was like a date. He'd come pick me up and we'd either go out to brunch and then to the show or hit the show first and then go the dinner. We saw "The Untouchables", "Witness", "The Color Purple", "Lethal Weapon" (he loved Danny Glover) and many others I don't recall now. But sometimes while watching a movie, usually an detective movie or a Western, I'll remember seeing it at on the big screen and it'll dawn on me that I saw it with him.
My point, which I never made, was that now when I see that these movies are coming on, I'll watch them in honour of my mother, father or brother who I watched them with in the past.
I'm of a generation where my contemporaries are starting to die. I've learned to accept the inevitable while treasuring the memories of my dead friends.
Harder to comprehend are the deaths of a young cousin, a niece and my son in their 20's and 30's. When I'm in doubt about making a donation of money or time I frequently choose to commit myself because of my beloved family members who were not given the time to contribute what they could.
My tribute, My grief
I have various photos on my computer that I wanted to somehow put together along with various poems (not by me) that I've found particularly relevant to my life with this person. I feel a deep need to express my feelings about it. I found an excellent program that I downloaded free and can attach and size photos, apply backgrounds and add text in any style. It's rather like the scrapbooking people are into now. This has been wonderful therapy for me.
It's really just desktop publishing. It can be printed and shared or not shared, bound into a book etc. It can include bits of journal, narrative or anything you like.
I appreciate all the replies. A lot.
I've been digesting. You gave me an idea. Collectively.
I can see him laughing happily at my idea, when it comes to fruition. I can see it so clearly. It is a good idea.
I'll see yall a little later. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to bawl my little heart out.
What you've shared means a lot to me. That you would share. Thank you.
Some people might think it's silly, but when shopping for raspberries, yesterday, I picked some that carry my aunt's name who died earlier this year.
Even though so far I had no reason to connect her with strawberries, now I will always think of her, when I look at them!
Stumble It!
Tweet This
Bookmark on Delicious
Share on Facebook
Share on MySpace