This phrase -- from grief to gifts -- is from a card I wrote to Rev. Ginger Gaines-Cirelli as I reflected about 2011, a year of healing from grief after my mother's death in September 2010. Ginger is the minister at St. Matthews United Methodist Church in Bowie, Maryland -- the church where my parents were members. After my mother died, Ginger's steady support, practical and spiritual guidance helped my daughter Lauren and me through that difficult, sad time.
I chose this lotus flower image because the lotus flower grows out of mud -- a fitting symbol for my experience of the grief process -- being stuck in the mud and muck of sorrow and then slowly, gradually rising into new life. For me, this felt like a a slow emergence from grief to gifts of new life. As I emerged, a bud of new life came first -- a budding time before the full flower of new life opened for me.
My mother's death opened sadness and grief in me that felt like a neverending story of loss. Her death came so close to other deaths in the family. My father died in February, 2008, my brother Glenn and only sibling died in December 2008 and my son-in-law Michael died in August 2009. Lauren and Michael were soulmates and his death plunged her into deep grief. For me, I lost a dear young man and sat with a mother's helplessness, unable to heal my daughter's pain.
By the time my mother died, grief compounded on grief. Four years of family caregiving and so many losses in a short period of time had depleted my body, sapped my energy, emotional health and my spirit. Accustomed to high energy, a positive outlook, creative energy flowing -- often overflowing, caregiving and helping others all the time, this time I had to care for myself. There would be no quick fixes. Through sometimes painful trial and error, I learned how to nurture myself. For the first time in my life, I put myself first. I learned how to do what the flight attendants tell us -- put your oxygen mask on first before helping others. I had taught others this principle for years. For myself, I always thought that was selfish. I learned that is selfhood. That I deserve a life, too.
I was fortunate to be supported on what became a year-long path to restore my health -- wise health care providers and other precious people who provided gentle support and care, who could stay attuned to me and my needs without expecting me to take care of them. Gifts in grief.
In a miracle of grace and much hard work on my part too, grief has finally shifted to gifts -- and I bring gifts to my life and work and relationships. As Lauren and I have said many times in the past few years -- it's a good thing there are gifts in dark times. Otherwise they would be unbearable. A special gift in 2011 was Lauren's marriage to Joe Travers. It's wonderful to see her happy again and to have Joe in our family.
As for me, I celebrated my 65th birthday in November, 2011 by becoming a Kripalu yoga teacher. A few weeks later, I completed training as a Let Your Yoga Dance teacher. Yoga's restorative power helped me to heal my body, mind, spirit and my heart and it sustains my wellbeing now. I love this beautiful practice and look forward to teaching. Over this past year, I've also reconnected with lost parts of myself -- with fluteplaying, singing and spiritual dance. I experienced glassmaking and I've taken up drumming and after many attempts, have found my beat -- in many ways. I'm finding a new voice in my writing and in my journal. Now I'm also preparing for new work to create personal and community wellbeing in the new year. Most important, I have new gifts to give to myself and to others. And that makes all the difference. From grief to gifts.
Image by Panpote, freedigitalphotos.net