Grief

#MondayBlog I Lost Everything but Hope

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For many writers, life took an extreme detour in 2020, and all the re-calibrating, refocusing, and reassessing to locate the path back to normalcy… and writing, were simple exercises in futility.

Some have made it back. Some still struggle.

While my journey was similar, it began nearly a year before the Pandemic with the deaths of my husband and mother.

Two amazing therapists, plus meditation, journaling and medication, helped me through my grief.

But not so much with writing. The words still eluded me. Plots wouldn’t come together. Characters were flat. Blank pages mocked me.

Without Den and Mom, my two biggest cheerleaders, rallied behind me, spurring me on, I couldn’t hold it together long enough to write a paragraph. I haven’t even been able to write a review for any of the 273 books I read up to mid-2023.

Back to Therapyville I went.

My stay there wasn’t as long this time. Fewer tears and no meds… just talking it through.

Did it help? Well, I am getting book reviews written.

As for my books? We’ll see.

 

ยฉ2025 Felicia Denise, All Rights Reserved

 

Acceptance of Time

Emerging from the darkness of grief…

Beach shoreline

Image by Michelle Raponi from Pixabay

September 17th.

A day Iโ€™ve loved, hated, dreaded, and once again, love.

Itโ€™s not marked or notated on any calendar. There are no alarms or reminders because my heart cannot forget.

Den and I were married September 17, 1983, and we spent the next thirty-five years navigating life and raising three children. There were lots of hits, quite a few misses, and tons of laughter.

There was no laughter on September 17, 2019, my first anniversary without him. There was a meltdown of epic proportions with tears, screaming, and swearing.

It was bad.

Except for Max, Denโ€™s beloved dog, I was alone, but even he seemed to be side-eying me while thinking up a plan of escape.

I had no more plastic smiles to give. No more politeness to share. No more false pretenses.

I needed help and sought therapy.

That alone was a nightmare, but worth it.

When September 17th rolled around again, there were tears, but no meltdown. There were tears in 2021, 2022, and 2023, but there were also smiles and laughter.

After a few โ€œtrial periods,โ€ I ended therapy a year ago. Despite a dark day here and there, life is pretty good and I spend a lot of time smiling and laughing. Some folks would say too much time, but womp, womp!

Still, I knew that the next September 16thโ€“the day before our anniversary, when the anxiety kicks in and freezes me in place for 36-48 hours, would decide my pass or fail.

It didnโ€™t happen. YAAY!

Am I cured? NOPE!

But time and I are friends again.

 

ยฉ2024 Felicia Denise, All Rights Reserved

Making Peace with Time

Emerging from the darkness of grief…

Beach shoreline

Time.

It either passes too slowly or in the blink of an eye.

But it does go on.

 

Sometimes we notice because it changes us.

Weโ€™re a few pounds lighterโ€ฆ or heavier.

We have new hairstylesโ€ฆ or less hair.

We have new beliefsโ€ฆ or have abandoned all beliefs.

 

The passage of time can make us restless and long for something new and exciting,

Or find us complacent and content with the routine and ordinary.

 

Time can find us safe and secure in the stability of family and long-time friends,

Or empty and grieving for those no longer with us.

 

Whether we realize it or not, whether we want it or not, time changes us.

 

Iโ€™m not the same person I was five years ago and Iโ€™m grateful for that.

 

But who am I?

 

Image by Michelle Raponi from Pixabay

 

ยฉ2024 Felicia Denise, All Rights Reserved

Celebrate

christmas candles

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We measure our lives in time.

Seconds, minutes, hours.

Days, weeks, months.

Years.

Milestones are celebrated.

A child walks, talks, starts school.

Graduates, marries, becomes a parent.

Life is a continuous celebration.

Until we experience loss.

Of a child or parent.

Or spouse.

Someone isnโ€™t here to celebrate a birthday or anniversary.

Or Christmas.

Times of celebration become bittersweet or sad.

Or unbearable.

Someone said grief is love with no place to go.

But love can always be shared with family and friends,

And most of all, with yourself.

Grief should never stop the celebration,

But instead, enhance it.

The pain of loss never ends,

But the celebration of love and memories

Makes it bearable.

And makes you smile.

Merry Christmas.

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Photo by Max Beck on Unsplash

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2 Years…

I’ve learned a lot since May 30, 2019.

I’ve learned that grief cannot be rushed, that you don’t wake up one day healed.

I’ve learned healing and closure are myths. Loss forces new adjustments to life.

I’ve learned it’s okay to put myself first and I’m not responsible for the feelingsโ€”or lack thereofโ€”of others about MY loss.

I’ve learned it’s okay to say no… to everyone.

I’ve learned doctors don’t know everything, or when it comes to grief, anything at all.

I’ve learned who my true friends are.

I’ve learned I don’t have to feel guilty about laughing and enjoying myself.

I’ve learned loss doesn’t change the person I am.

I’ve learned it’s okay to laugh and cry at the same time.

I’ve been reminded how amazing my three children are.

And I’ve learned my grief journey can only be taken one day at a time, one breath at a time… even when it hurts.

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Happy Heavenly Birthday!

Where would I be without my children? They make everything better! โค

Remembering their dad today on his birthday with another cake themed on his favorite show, “Archer” made by our always amazing friend and cake-boss, Elyse Martinez. (The red cake is from 2017 and he loved it! The flowers are from my sis, Melissa.)

Continue to rest in peace, babe. You are missed every day. โคโค

Behind Every Cloud

silver lining

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Without a plan, outline, and most days, a clue, I’ve completed my first AtoZ Challenge! *Trumpet fanfare*

Taking it one letter at a time, and many deep breaths, I shared some of the feelings I’ve experienced since losing my husband and my mom in 2019.

Participating in the challenge gave me a measure of clarity and freed me of more anxiety than I thought possible.

But it also did something else.

It had me in front of my laptop writing! *The crowd gasps*

With more than a few sequels and wips in progress, I’ve accomplished nothing in the last two years.

But grief didn’t suddenly strip me of the desire to write.

Den and Mom were my two biggest cheerleaders, and the last thing they would want is for me to stop writing.

However, slowly over time, the ability to write left me like a slow leak until I was empty.

I tried, with no success.

So I was little more than a house plant that read books.

Then, fellow blogger/author, Marquessa, hosted a March Writing Challenge and I joined AND completed it.

For very personal reasons, I was motivated to join and complete the AtoZ Challenge, which as of today, gives me SIXTY-TWO consecutive days of writing! *And the crowd goes wild!*

Not a biggie for some, but HUUUUGE for me at this point!

What will I write about tomorrow?

I have NO idea!

But there will be writing!

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atoz badge 2021

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PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay

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