I sobbed myself to sleep the night after my brother Jim’s memorial service. The huge gathering went smoothly, including my reading, but something gnawed inside.
Caring for Yourself When Your Grief is Real
Take care of yourself first before helping others
Listen to your body, take time to rest
Give yourself the gift of healing tears
Doing less will help your more
“Your task is not to seek for love,
but merely to seek and find all the barriers within
yourself that have been built against it.” ~Rumi
On June 3, the ninth anniversary of my husband Vic’s death, I created a ritual of remembrance. It’s something I do every year.
Albert J. Lewis was born to Elvina Broussard and Paul ‘Ben’ Lewis in Lake Charles, Louisiana on June 26, 1936. The family moved from Louisiana to California in 1947. As a child, Al’s gift for music was already evident, playing accordion for family functions as early as age 12.
Go outside and plant, a wise voice in me said. You need flowers.
She lived a colorful life. And we will miss her.
Our dear friend Jane liked to keep it simple in life, and she made it clear to all of us that she intended to go out the same way. No fuss, no funeral, no casket, no traditional burial.
I arrive at the Unitarian Fellowship in Big Flats, NY a little early on Sunday morning. I need spaciousness and inner quiet to set up and lead a Ritual of Remembrance for this community. This is my second visit as their guest service leader.
My mother-in-law Virginia was present during every conversation the last few weeks. She was alert when the public health nurse evaluated her condition and approved the application for skilled nursing care.
Today is Rare Disease Day. Our sweet Magglio lives with Pompe Disease, a rare and brutal genetic disease that affects his ability to move, breathe, eat and talk. Despite this disease, and maybe because of it too, Magglio is full of courage, strength and heart.
THE DEATHCARE INDUSTRY IS CHANGING, AND WITH IT ARE THE WAYS WE DISPOSE OF OUR BODIES.