Oh my goodness, Madeleine. The deeper I got into your letter, the more the hair on the back of my neck stood up. The unfolding of self-awareness, particularly around self-care really resonated with my journey. So many great insights. "Right now, you believe strength means holding everything together." Oh, yes. Coping through putting on armor to shield me from what was happening. "Lingering between what was and what could have been." I lingered alright, but mainly in anger at the universe. And there were days when that anger ate at my insides.
And then, "you'll realise you are moving toward taking better care of yourself, honoring your needs, toward meeting people where they are instead of where you wish they would be." A profound change in point of view, in my case trading anger for compassion.
"You'll finally see that all these years you have been tending to the land of the soul."
Thank you so much Anna for really taking the time to read this and be with the meaning. Really resonate with the anger eating away, it leaves me full of grief for the days I was lost in that place. Deeply appreciate your reflections ❤️
Gosh this was powerfully wise, thank you for sharing. Your comments about losing identities, and no-one around you noticing, really resonated with me. My changing identity, from doctor to caregiver for my husband, and the loss of certainty about the future, it took me years, and finally having therapy, to realise that I was grieving. I didn’t feel entitled to grieve, as nobody died. But as you describe so well, a part of me had died for a while, and our lives had changed so much. All that adjustment was easier once I recognised it as grief.
Sending you a virtual hug, and letting you know I see your grief and you’re not alone.
Ahhh deeply understand that experience of feeling not entitled to grieve. It’s in all this silent loss that we can become stuck for so long. Finally feeling permission to accept these types of dying has been so important in my path, to be able to adjust to the life that’s still here. Thank you Rachel, sending you a virtual hug right back and wishing you an easeful weekend
I have never felt so isolated and alone as when I was caring for my dying husband in 2020. It felt like our family and friends almost couldn't fully believe what was happening. And neither could my husband. He didn't even look ill, until a couple of months before he passed. He acted like he had a bad case of the flu, spending his last months revising a will and securing money for the kids. I followed this lead and worked 16 hours days for the government managing the COVID response in Seattle.
We had a one good cry together when the doctor finally said, there's nothing more we can do. That was it. He stopped talking the last couple of weeks before he died. I didn't have closure, no service, no peace. I noticed the calls and inquires dying as well, just a month after.
People are not comfortable with death so they avoided me and my pain. I carried resentment for a couple of years but knew this wasn't good for my body or soul.
Grief doesn’t disappear when you bypass it. It waits. It settles into the body like an echo, and it stays there until you’re ready to feel it. I feel like I'm letting mine guide me, when to release, when to sit with it. We need more people to share their stories of loss and illness like you did so beautifully. Thank you.
Thank you K for bringing your heart so fully to the comments. Deeply witnessing your brutal experiences and how isolating and lonely it has been. Sending you fierce care as you continue to walk this path guided by the wisdom of grief. I’m so glad you shared part of your story here. Thank you.
Oh my goodness, Madeleine. The deeper I got into your letter, the more the hair on the back of my neck stood up. The unfolding of self-awareness, particularly around self-care really resonated with my journey. So many great insights. "Right now, you believe strength means holding everything together." Oh, yes. Coping through putting on armor to shield me from what was happening. "Lingering between what was and what could have been." I lingered alright, but mainly in anger at the universe. And there were days when that anger ate at my insides.
And then, "you'll realise you are moving toward taking better care of yourself, honoring your needs, toward meeting people where they are instead of where you wish they would be." A profound change in point of view, in my case trading anger for compassion.
"You'll finally see that all these years you have been tending to the land of the soul."
Wow. Mic drop.
Thank you so much for sharing this.
Thank you so much Anna for really taking the time to read this and be with the meaning. Really resonate with the anger eating away, it leaves me full of grief for the days I was lost in that place. Deeply appreciate your reflections ❤️
Gosh this was powerfully wise, thank you for sharing. Your comments about losing identities, and no-one around you noticing, really resonated with me. My changing identity, from doctor to caregiver for my husband, and the loss of certainty about the future, it took me years, and finally having therapy, to realise that I was grieving. I didn’t feel entitled to grieve, as nobody died. But as you describe so well, a part of me had died for a while, and our lives had changed so much. All that adjustment was easier once I recognised it as grief.
Sending you a virtual hug, and letting you know I see your grief and you’re not alone.
Ahhh deeply understand that experience of feeling not entitled to grieve. It’s in all this silent loss that we can become stuck for so long. Finally feeling permission to accept these types of dying has been so important in my path, to be able to adjust to the life that’s still here. Thank you Rachel, sending you a virtual hug right back and wishing you an easeful weekend
Victoria & Madeleine, this post has touched my heart deeply. It is filled with nourishing wisdom and love. Thank you for this series!
Thank you for taking the time to read this Cathy and I’m so glad to have you in EverGrief
Thank you, Cathy! I recommend exploring Madeleine's publication. I think you'll resonate with her 'Evergiref: A Beginning' post.
I just subscribed. 😊
I have never felt so isolated and alone as when I was caring for my dying husband in 2020. It felt like our family and friends almost couldn't fully believe what was happening. And neither could my husband. He didn't even look ill, until a couple of months before he passed. He acted like he had a bad case of the flu, spending his last months revising a will and securing money for the kids. I followed this lead and worked 16 hours days for the government managing the COVID response in Seattle.
We had a one good cry together when the doctor finally said, there's nothing more we can do. That was it. He stopped talking the last couple of weeks before he died. I didn't have closure, no service, no peace. I noticed the calls and inquires dying as well, just a month after.
People are not comfortable with death so they avoided me and my pain. I carried resentment for a couple of years but knew this wasn't good for my body or soul.
Grief doesn’t disappear when you bypass it. It waits. It settles into the body like an echo, and it stays there until you’re ready to feel it. I feel like I'm letting mine guide me, when to release, when to sit with it. We need more people to share their stories of loss and illness like you did so beautifully. Thank you.
Thank you K for bringing your heart so fully to the comments. Deeply witnessing your brutal experiences and how isolating and lonely it has been. Sending you fierce care as you continue to walk this path guided by the wisdom of grief. I’m so glad you shared part of your story here. Thank you.
Thank you for this warm and supportive message. I can feel your beautiful energy in every word!
I hear you K. My heartfelt condolences and hugs for what you went through and what you carry.