Good Grief Guru

Archive for the ‘About Us’ Category

Every day for the past two weeks, I have been reading my daughter the story, “Oh, the places you’ll go!” by Dr. Seuss.  It didn’t take me long to realize that the story was likely inspiring myself, more than her.

I have often been inspired by Dr. Seuss’ personal story.  Theodor Seuss Geisel, a Pulitzer, Academy, Emmy, and Peabody award-winning author, was turned down dozens of times before someone took a chance on him and published his writing.  This particular story, Oh, the places you’ll go! encapsules the triumphs and slumps, recognizing there will be times of waiting, and anticipating, and that life is an adventure, a “Great Balancing Act,” and every juxtaposition revealed in this fabulous book show another one of life’s true facts.  The greatest message of all, however, is that life is what I make it, and I’m determined to make mine count.

So, get comfy on your couch, and snuggle up for story time.  If kids are around, invite them in.  This episode of Good Grief Guru is rated G.  Our mountain is waiting.  Let’s get on our way!  Click here to view.

To my surprise, Good Grief Guru received an unexpected blog award yesterday.  This award was received from an unsolicited reader, a fellow blogger I have never met.  Thank you to Dawn Storey from Alphabet Salad who honoured Good Grief Guru with this award.

Receiving awards can be a lot of fun, and for me, an individual who is motivated by feedback, The Irresistibly Sweet Blog Award was a welcomed surprise.  It was one way of letting me know this site is having a positive impact on someone other than myself.  Plus, it’s not only fun to be recognized, it’s also fun to recognize others, which is part of what I understand this award to be all about.

Here are the rules:

• First of all, I am to let you in on seven secrets, little-known facts, or random oddities about myself.
• Secondly, I am to pay it forward by presenting the award to some other deserving bloggers, so that you, too, can share in their sweetness.

So, I will delay no longer.  Here are seven quirky tidbits about me.

1. I love scars.  Every scar tells a story, and when someone’s been cut deep enough to create a scar, those stories tend to be memorable and significant.  I especially love my scars, not because I enjoyed what caused them, but because I’ve earned them, learned from them, and have come to see them as beauty.
2. I like the achy feeling my body gets after I’ve exercised.  It’s my body’s way of saying, “Finally!  You did something with me, after all these years!” and that makes me feel a little healthier.  As the saying goes, no pain, no gain.
3. I really like trains.  I like the sound of them, the look of them, and the fact that when I look down a set of train tracks I can pretend I am at any moment in time.  In a world of change, train tracks are timeless.  I look down a set of tracks and it could be the year 2012, or 1883.
4. I have yet to meet a cheesecake that can live up to the cheesecake my family makes.  We eat it frozen, and it’s melt in my mouth goodness.  Cherry cheesecake used to be my favourite until I was introduced to her blueberry version, which has now taken the lead.
5. I like hugable boys my height, which is pretty down to earth.  It’s even better if they’re a bit rugged, but clean, you know?
6. The #1 artist I’ve listened to over the past year has been Keith Green.  His music is high on my frequently played playlist.  It has pulled me through impossible moments.
7. I thoroughly enjoy well-used books.  I have a thing for books that have been underlined, highlighted, and are falling apart because they have been so well loved.

Now, on to the pay it forward part!

1. Pardon my poppet (Mom/life blog)
2. It’s in my head, eh? blog (a blog about mercury poisoning, written by someone living through the adverse affects of amalgam teeth filings that later poisoned his body.)
3. Adara’s natural health blog (Naturopathic medicine blog)
4. Every little wonder  (Photography/life)
5. Alphabet Salad (Rants and ramblings)
6. Keith Green (Songs & Writings)
7. Ted.com blog (Ideas worth spreading, public speaker blog)

Of course there are other blogs I LOVE, but these are private (and at the discretion of the writer to share.)  If you are a writer of one of these blogs, just know I’m rooting for you even though I can’t advertise you.

Here’s to the new winners of the Irresistibly Sweet Blog Award!  Way to go everyone!

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The Stork Family YMCA opened its doors to the public this year, just a four minute drive away from where I live.  I had an idea.  What if I were to ask them if they would be willing to sponsor my daughter and I with memberships?  In exchange, I could write about how exercise has helped my personal grief journey.

Being healthy, and promoting a healthy lifestyle to my daughter, has been a goal that pounds on the door of my heart, begging me to pay attention.  The pounding grew more persistent when my husband took his own life, making me the sole care provider for our daughter.  How he died also drove me to confront the harsh realities of an unhealthy life-style.

Tragedies can either side track the best laid plans, or motivate us to aim for better outcomes.  After living in intensity for five years, doing my best to push through despite the tension in my chest, all I needed to do was look at my daughter, then at me, her only parent, and I answered the call of my pounding heart.  I faced the reality that I need to, and I want to, look after myself in order to look after us both.  I also want to look after myself so my daughter learns to look after her own special being.

Visions of avoidable illness befalling either of us instilled in me a deep desire to get my runners to the gym; to do everything in my power to lead a healthy life so that, at least as far as I am concerned, I can say I have done all I can do to be around as long as possible for the two of us.

My husband was up against many complex obstacles.  I can’t help but wonder, with better eating habits, an earlier, more accurate diagnosis of his mental illness, with an adolescence where he was affirmed, better sleep patterns and exercise, would he be alive today?  Would he have been better equipped to cope with his mental and emotional life challenges?  Would he have been able to weather the storms of life if he had the umbrella of a healthier self-image?

I will never know the answers to those questions, but I look at my daughter and I think, I can not keep her from all the challenges she will face, but I can equip her to be more resilient.  I can teach her about food and ingredients, exercise and health, Spirit and taking a deep breath.  I can not save her from the pot holes and detours, and construction zones she’ll face driving down the road of life.  But I can give her driving lessons.  I can show her by my example how to drive a bodily and mental vehicle, and then one day, let her take the wheel while I become a little quieter, say a little less, supporting her from the passenger seat.  Then eventually, I will need to let go, and allow her to drive on her own, to travel down roads of her own choosing.  She will head towards unknown adventures that will inevitably take her in varying directions.  And although she might not always end up down the path I’d want her to go, I will at least know her vehicle is packed with all the gear she needs to survive the journey, wherever her destination.

Am I only doing this for her?  No.  I want to do it for myself as well.  I need to do it for me.  Five years of intense stress, followed by an emotional grief journey, has taken its toll on my body, mind and spirit.  So, I wrote to the Y, and I sought out a partnership, and my request was met with enthusiasm, encouragement, and a sense that I was about to embark on an adventure supported by a strong community.

Please join me in following our story of partnership with the YMCA, as my daughter and I exercise our way through our grief journey, into recovery, towards a healthier future.

Want to check out the YMCA?  Now’s the time.  On family day weekend admission is FREE for everyone!  CLICK HERE for more information.  If you visit the Y this weekend be sure to tell me your story.  I’d love to hear from you.

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I turn on Bobs & Lolo’s “On your feet” song, and my daughter and I dance in the kitchen like nobody’s watching.  She observes my goofy moves and I giggle as she tries to imitate my actions.  Indian bangles are lined up her arm, and hooped over her ears like earrings.  One by one they fly off as we throw our arms in the air.  We twirl in a circle shaking jazz hands as we go, and then fall down in a pile of laughter.  It’s liberating, and laughable, to dance like nobody’s watching.

Check out the video below to see the adult version of a random  Laundromat dance.

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My husband committed suicide almost a year ago.  This past weekend I met a new friend whose nephew did the same.  At the beginning of the week I had dinner with a neighbour who told me of her two friends who had taken their lives in the past two months.  Yesterday, I received an email from another friend who had just learned of a colleague’s attempted suicide.  Suicide, and attempted suicide seems to be happening all around me.  I am reminded how important it is to continue to break the silence of suicide, expel stigmas, and raise awareness.

Here are some global facts from the Canadian Mental Health Awareness website.  Their website reads, “According to the World Health Organization (WHO), someone around the globe commits suicide every 40 seconds. In the year 2000, 815,000 people lost their lives to suicide — more than double the number of people who die as a direct result of armed conflict every year (306,600). For people between the ages of 15 and 44, suicide is the fourth leading cause of death and the sixth leading cause of disability and infirmity worldwide.^“

Did you know that women are up to four times more likely to attempt suicide than men, but men are four times more likely to actually commit suicide? (CMHA Statistics)

When I showed my family doctor my husband’s coroner’s report, he had no doubt my husband’s death was intentional.

For lack of finding better words, my doctor said, “Women tend to attempt suicide as a cry for help.  Unfortunately, men tend to be successful.  Once they reach that point, they have made up their minds.”

That is in no way to minimize the seriousness of attempted suicide by men or women.  My doctor’s words did make me wonder, why does one gender seem determined to end their lives, while the other seems almost like they’re rolling the dice?

A 1998 article written by George E. Murphy, MD, in the journal of Comprehensive Psychiatry, says it is the variation in the way men compared to women, typically think.   Dr. Murphy, and Dr. Eli Robins, had “conducted the first comprehensive study of suicide 40 years ago, studying every suicide that occurred in St. Louis and St. Louis County during a one-year period.”   What Dr. Murphy noted was that women were more likely to comprehend, and consider, how their actions would impact their families, and others around them.  They were also more likely to pursue a diagnosis, seek treatment, listen to advice and talk as an outlet.

One need only watch the first 5 minutes of Mark Gungor‘s “A tale of two brains” to understand some of the clear differences between the way men and women think.  The relate-able laughter of the audience echos his findings.  As he points out, women seem to be hardwired to see all, and they give, give, give.  Men compartmentalize, and don’t always see the bigger picture.

Taking into account Dr. Murphy’s serious article, and Gungor’s humourous talk, I wonder how many women are brought to the edge of desperation by giving til it hurts.  How many women give so much they reach the point where they feel there is nothing left?  I also wonder if men are brought to the depths of their despair for lack of vision, and pain from isolation.

I have openly written about the place of sheer desperation I found myself in, in my post titled, “An impossible choice that only one of us survived.”  I gave until there was nothing left and that was no laughing matter.  Then I made a choice to take space for myself, to gain capacity so I could literally survive.

Dr. Murphy points out, “…before they ever get to the point of considering suicide…women are much more likely to seek help with their problems. The classic example is asking for directions when driving. Many men refuse to do that, perhaps seeing it as an admission of weakness. They believe they are supposed to be competent in all areas. Because they are not, they are at risk. Women, on the other hand, are much more likely to seek advice and take it.”

Women are not the only ones whose reserves can run low.  Men can became isolated, bottle their emotions within themselves, and are more likely to not seek medical help.  As I watch some of my friends’ boys, their loving, laughing, emotionally clingy boys, I wonder how much of their true nature gets pushed down in our culture that encourages a stiff upper lip, and to soldier on.  Even soldiers can fall in a war from fear, and there is a very real war being waged against the minds and hearts of our men.

Awareness is the first step to fighting this war.

ADVICE FOR THOSE WHO CARE ABOUT WOMEN:

Love, and appreciate the women in your life.  Hug them, love them, help them do the laundry.  Write them a card.  Say thank you.  Offer to give back for all that the woman in your life has given you.  It doesn’t matter if you feel like it.  If you love her, help her.

Women, keep talking.  Keep seeking help when you need it, and accept help when it’s offered.

ADVICE FOR THOSE WHO CARE ABOUT MEN:

Men, build community with men.  After speaking to a few widowers, I have come to learn that their relational wives were the community builders.  If a man has lost his wife through death, divorce, or separation, he is likely in isolation, and that can be a lonely, fearful, sad place to be.  Families, build up your men.  Encourage them.  Respect them.  As Shannon Ethridge points out in her book, Every Woman’s Battle, she came to learn that men desired respect more than love.  Respect to a man is what love is for a woman.

Men, a good soldier knows when to retreat, and when to call for back up.  If you are fighting this war, remember, there is always hope.  Let me repeat that.  There is always hope.  When you’re in the trenches, you feel the enemy near, and you can’t see for the life of you how this war will be won, it’s time to call for back up.

FIND A CRISIS CENTER by CLICKING HERE.

We must be aware to help others.  We must listen well, and also have the courage to help ourselves.

In memory of my husband, and all the other men and women who struggle in silence, feeling at the end of themselves, I leave you with a song by Jonny Lang, called Only a man.

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Since I am 33 years old I thought it appropriate to use Happy Thought #33 to write about something I love, that is a little more evident at 33 than they were at age 32.  Laugh lines.  I love laugh lines.  I think they are beautiful, and I happen to really like mine.  If you have laugh lines too I can guarantee I will also like yours.

I know these lines are often referred to as “crow’s feet”, and I may be an anomaly, but the truth is this year when I really started to notice them, their sight made me smile a little bigger.

As my face begins to tell the tale of my personality, as these lines of mine map out the legend of my life, I hope these lines will continue to chart my timeline with a positive imprint throughout my days.

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“Guess where we’re going today?” I asked my daughter Alexis.

She takes an excited breath in.  “Where?” she asks in complete anticipation.  Watching her exuberance about the unknown is like eating chocolate for me.  Her anticipation fills a craving I have to see my kid happy.

“Kids Zone!” I squeal with excitement.

“KidsZone!” she echos.

KidsZone is what we call Indigokids, the children’s section of the Chapters bookstores.  Chapters, which is also attached to Starbucks, has become a retreat for us both.  Often on a Saturday afternoon, I will drive Alexis and I to Chapters where I partake in a relaxing cup-of-joe, while she experiments with crafts, re-arranges trains, or pushes a kid-sized shopping cart.  She often pushes this shopping cart to a particular bookshelf where she picks up the same princess book almost every visit.  Once in cart, she wheels it to me, who am either sitting in the adult sized bean bag chair, or the magnified orange and blue tea cup.  She presents her find like a cat proudly showing its owner the dead mouse it killed and brought home as though it were treasure.  Of course, it is treasure to her, so I give her praise.

Today was the first time we visited Indigokids with my sister, brother-in-law, and niece, Poppet.  Good things for me tend to be better enjoyed with a close friend, or family member.

Alexis and Poppet played with the train-set…

…and then headed over to the craft table to decorate pre-cut hearts with red glitter and stamps.  All of which were accompanied by a certain Princess book.

This visit to Indigokids was particularly enjoyable because we got to enjoy it with my sister and her family, and that makes this a happy thought times two.

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(I highly recommend you listen to this post, but clicking the audio file below.)

Is Zee Avi the best kept secret, or am I the last to know?

I stumbled upon her music the other day, and have been in love with it ever since.  Her music is liken to fairy twinkle dust.  Light, airy, and gave me the feeling of drifting off to Never Neverland.

I found her music on her website at http://zeeavi.com/music and tracked down her YouTube playlist page.

She definitely made my Happy Thought list.  Perfect for background music, or getting carried away with on a whimsical Saturday afternoon.

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“I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I’m awake, you know?”  Ernest Hemingway

“If you can’t sleep, then get up and do something instead of lying there worrying. It’s the worry that gets you, not the lack of sleep.”  Dale Carnegie

“It is a common experience that a problem difficult at night is resolved in the morning after the committee of sleep has worked on it.”  John Steinbeck

“The lion and the calf shall lie down together but the calf won’t get much sleep.”  Woody Allen

“The best cure for insomnia is to get a lot of sleep.”  W. C. Fields

According to an article on sleep by Dr. Mercola, it suggests that our bodies recharge between 11pm and 1am every night.  Without this, our adrenal glands become strained, and stress is put on our entire system.  I am reaching desperate levels of needing rest.  I want the cure for insomnia, and I want it, I need it, now.

At the beginning of this week I tried to re-set my body.  I used to get sleepy around 10pm, and would drift off peacefully as my head floated onto my pillow.  Then, I started writing.  Writing was therapeutic, but, as Maya Angelou says, “You can’t use up creativity.  The more you use, the more you have.”  With every post I have proved this is true.  Writing emptied my mind of the thoughts I had, but that only made room for new ideas, material, or thoughts I needed to work out, and work out I did.  I wrestled with my thoughts, I ran them around in my head, I carried them out of my mind and onto lined paper, but still more remained. The more thoughts I had, the less I slept.  The less I slept, the smaller my capacity was to hold them.

Sunday night I fell asleep after 2am, and woke up early for a 9am appointment.

Monday I went to bed close to 3am, only to be woken up by my 8am alarm I had forgotten to turn off from the day before.  I prayed my little miss down the hall didn’t hear it, but as I plopped my weary body on my bed, there was her well rested voice.  “Morning Mom.  Are you ready to go downstairs?”

I was exhausted throughout the day.  By 6:30pm I put my daughter, and myself, to bed.  That was wonderful, for the two hours it lasted!  I was mortified to wake up and see the clock had only moved to 8:30pm.  What am I going to do for the rest of the night?  Full of energy, I wrote, talked to friends, watched a show, until after 2am when I was finally tired enough for bed.

By Wednesday morning, I could barely move.  In fact, I literally kept one eye open to watch my daughter, because the other eyelid was frankly too weak to do the work.  My sister came for a visit (thank goodness for her!) and then a friend invited my daughter for a sleepover.  Great timing!  Yes, yes, and yes.  Have fun.

I got so much writing done, and it was done early.  I cleaned the house, turned off the computer, and read from a good book.  I got all my do-er compulsions out early, and by 11pm I was asleep, until the glorious time of 8:30am!

Like a good daughter, I listened to my mother the night before, went to bed early, didn’t eat after 7:30pm, and downloaded the Sleep Cycle app so I could better understand my sleep patterns.

I’d like to say the next night went just as well, but it seems I did a good job at convincing my body I am now nocturnal, like a cat, a bat, or an owl.  If only I slept 18 hours during the day like a cat, that life would work out just fine.  Since such is not the case, re-setting to the human diurnal standard of being awake, rising with the sun and setting with it too, are highly favourable at this point in time.

Since I don’t like insomnia very much, I’d better find a way to take a good dose of W.C. Field’s cure…sleep.

If you have any suggestions for what has helped you re-set, and fall asleep at a decent hour, please leave me a comment.

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Click here to watch a video of Alexis and I taking a field trip to Neil’s tree.

Once upon a time lived the Knights.  These particular Knights lived just up the hill from me, their backyard diagonally adjacent to mine.

One day, a couple months after my husband died, the Knights invited Alexis and I to their home for dinner.  They made a scrumptious spread, shared their delicious home made wine, and then came dessert.  It wasn’t just any dessert.  It was a well-thought-out dessert that made me want to cry.

In my eulogy for my husband I talked about how, near the end of his life, he had started taking our daughter on dates.  He would buy himself coffee, and our daughter would get her favourite treat; yoghurt, berries and granola.  What did the Knights bring out for dessert?  You guessed it.  Yoghurt, berries and granola.

The second thing they did, which was even more heart warming, was they told me they had contacted the city about planting a tree in Neil’s honour.  The Knights live right next to a public pathway, so their idea was that if they planted a tree there, then anyone from the neighbourhood could visit the tree, and Alexis and I would have a memorial for Neil where we could enjoy picnics under its shade, in the years to come.  They had a plaque made up, organized a neighbourhood tree dedication, and prepared a BBQ feast on the week of Neil’s birthday in June.

The kids brought rocks to lay at the base…

…and drew pictures of our family and the tree.

I chose cremation and scattering, so there is no existing monument for my husband.  The birch tree up the hill, and the special plaque that lies above the soil at its base, are my husband’s memorials.  Every time we walk past it Alexis chimes, “Daddy’s tree!”  She talks to the plaque and tells it things she would want to tell her living daddy.  Every time I see the tree I recognize my husband was a man who meant something to our community, and our neighbours are the type of thoughtful, loving, considerate individuals who mean the world to me.

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