WHAT GRIEF WANTS by Vicky Edgerly

What does my grief want from me anyway?!

I recognized during my very first grief journey that my pain was something of an enigma. Even though I didn’t want it anymore, I also didn't want anyone to try and take it from me.

 I appreciated those close to me who could sit with me and my pain….those who didn’t turn away when I dropped my veil and exposed the true nature of it.  The ugliness that it was.  I appreciated those Souls who could do that…the ones who could do that silently without agendas of their own. The ones who didn’t try to take my pain away from me. Because it was MINE….it was mine alone and no one could take it.  I would learn to resent those who tried. So yes, I guarded my pain like a jealous lover.

 "I know what it wants and I surrender..."

Today, some 20 years later, I still sit alone with my pain but it looks a lot different now.  Like lovers in a longtime relationship, we both have changed a lot along the way.  It’s quieter...we know each other so well after all these years that we can sit with each other in silence.  We can just BE together in the same room without one spoken word…there is no longer a need to name it. I know what it wants of me when it shows up at my door…there is no longer a need to search for reasons….to demand answers.  I know what it wants and I surrender.  I yield to it’s needs…I walk willingly into the familiar embrace.  I allow the pain, dulled by years of experience, tamed by my own stubborn struggle to ‘not let it win’, I allow it to envelope my whole being.  I rest my head upon it’s shoulder as we embrace and I allow the full richness of the penetrating sorrow to enter my being. I ALLOW it…I understand it’s needs. 

Reality...A Matter of Perception

"These 7 little words actually hold all the answers to the mystery of life itself within them."

I want to talk about perception.  I think it's an underrated commodity.  As in, folks don't give it the value it deserves.  I mean really, think about this popular quote:
                                  "What we PERCEIVE is what we BELIEVE."

These 7 little words actually hold all the answers to the mystery of life itself within them.  How you say?  Well, because they are letting us in on the secret that our PERCEPTION of what is happening around us actually creates our reality!  Let's break it down...

What is Reality?

Some might think this a silly question with an obvious answer.  They might say something like, "Well that's obvious.  Reality is what we can see, hear, feel and touch.  It is the world around us and all that we experience within it."  Well I beg to differ with that opinion.  I believe 'reality' is a bit more complex than that, and yet in principal is really simple.  I believe that reality is based on how one PERCEIVES the various stimuli they are exposed to. 

Have you ever watched someone else face something especially challenging in their life with a steadfast determination that things will work out just fine and wondered to yourself, "how do they DO that?  Why aren't they falling apart?  I don't think I could handle that.....I'd surely crumble!"  

Or perhaps you are the person who watches someone in hysterics over a traumatic event and says silently to yourself, "Oh darlin, if you would only relax and surrender to what is happening things would be a lot less stressful for you as you go through this.  After all, things always have a way of working themselves out." 

What do you suppose makes these types of people so different from one another? I used to ponder this question quite often...until I figured out the answer.  PERCEPTION.  Perception is simply how we view what is happening around us.  And contrary to popular belief, we do actually have a CHOICE in all of this.  We, in each and every moment of our lives, can choose what to believe and what not to believe. There is great power in this realization. Let's go a bit deeper...

Facing the Waters of My Youth

Facing the waters of my youth…

     I am, in fact, sitting at a table which is in front of a window facing the waters of my youth.  I am 56 years old in this moment frozen in time but I am also timeless….

Walker Pond is laid out before me…the Walker Pond of my own youth, where I played as a child during frequent visits here to my Mother’s family home.  The Walker Pond that I brought my own family to when my children were small…and the same Walker Pond that my grand children still enjoy on the less than frequent occasions that I bring them here.

     Today, I embody all of those eras and beyond….today I simply AM

As I gaze out the window, memories start to dance behind my eyes.  I can see myself as a young child fresh from the bath and in my pajamas for the night.  It’s a summer evening so there is still plenty of daylight outside.  I am savoring the pure joy of being allowed to run outside in the waning light.  That feeling that this was somehow ‘special’.  Squeaky clean and smelling of Ivory soap…hair still damp and combed neatly.  Running barefoot on the cool grass in these last few minutes of the day… sleep not far off.

     I am slightly older now, maybe 7 or 8.  My grandfather, once again, offers me a choice.  The crisp dollar bill he is holding out  in front of me or all the change he has stored in the pocket of his green Dickey work trousers.  As always, I choose the dollar bill which to my child’s mind is worth way more than coins, only to discover that the change in his pocket added up to several dollars… I fell for it again!

     I’m 18 now watching my cousin, Ernie ride his beloved dirt bike up and down the road that leads from the house to the pond. My mind lingers over Ernie for a bit, remembering.  Remembering what it was like to have this boy as our cousin and childhood playmate.  Ernie was born with a debilitating heart condition.  As children, we always knew that his life would be a short one.  Being so close to death entitled him to special consideration….we were not to ‘excite’ Ernie lest it cause him to have a heart attack.  As you can imagine, Ernie could get away with pretty much whatever he wanted since the old-fashioned types of punishments the rest of us received for naughty behaviors would not be administered to Ernie for fear of causing his failing to heart give out.

     Ernie died at 17…not long after the visit I described above.  I was pregnant with my first child at the time and living in New Hampshire which would require a 4 hour car ride should I attend the funeral services.  My family members insisted that I did not make the trip.  I was close to my delivery date and they were afraid I’d encounter problems with the stress of the travel and the solemn occasion.  Interesting how my view has changed over the last 40 years.  Back then, I went along with what all the ‘adults’ were saying.  Sitting where I am now, with the perspective I have gained over the years, I would not have given a second thought to attending and letting the chips fall where they may.

October-A Time for Quiet Reflection

     Those of us fortunate enough to live in New England recognize the month of October as the most bright and colorful time of year with brilliant displays of fall foliage all around us.  But even though we are surrounded by such spectacular natural beauty, some of us may find ourselves experiencing "grey" moods.  I am one of those people.

     I've always experienced a dip in my moods during this time of year. I seem to miss my kids more.  I suppose the fact that my daughter died from cancer in October has something to do with it. But then again, I can recall having bouts of grief over my son's suicide during this time as well, long before his sister followed him to the other side.  It would often feel like I was grieving the loss of the whole package.....the family life with the apple picking, fall baking and of course the fun we'd all have coming up with creative Halloween costumes.  It seems inevitable that my grief would resurface every year as the temperatures start to dip and the leaves start to fall. 

     This photo kind of sums up how I might feel.  I can see the fiery colors but they are far away and separated by this barrier of mud and rocks I must pass through first. Even so, when I gaze out past the seemingly obtrusive rock pile toward the opposite bank I become acutely aware of the opportunity that has presented itself to me. Once I pay attention to this, I understand that the "barrier" that has been placed before me is merely an invitation to slow down and just take in the scene from where I stand.  When I do that, the reflection on the water becomes my focus and I understand that this is a good time to "go within"...or, spend some time in quiet self-reflection, something I don't always make time for, especially during the busy summer months. 

Death is All Around Us