Tag: loss

  • It’s ALL Better En Masse

    Merry Christmas & Happy New Year

    So here we are it’s Christmas,
    The most wonderful time of year,
    When our minds turn to our loved ones,
    And those we hold most dear,
    May the memories and traditions,
    That have always played a part,
    Make this season special,
    Bringing joy into your heart.

    I had intended to post this on Facebook, in fact, I thought I had, but we were navigating lengthy internet outages on Sunday and Monday morning. I just now found the unpublished post, so it will launch today’s Merry Christmas and Happy New Year message.

    Yesterday a precious Jewish friend sent an email wishing me a Merry Christmas. When I asked Google to search, “What is Christmas to non-Christians?” this was the response: For many, it’s an opportunity to connect with family and friends, enjoy festive traditions, and embrace the warm atmosphere of the season. The appeal of decorations, music, and shared meals transcends religious boundaries, making Christmas a celebration of human connection.

    The days leading up to Christmas this year are filled with more raw emotion than any I recall. On Sunday Jane Foster surprised me with a telephone call after her major complications following a 12-hour ileostomy surgery in late September. She has been hospitalized for weeks now. When she was not able to talk on the phone we figured out I could send brief text messages recorded with Voice Memos.

    Our beloved Florida friends are still in Canada as they continue to navigate her having been diagnosed in June with glioblastoma, one of the deadliest forms of brain cancer.

    Yesterday, Stacey’s dear friends made one of life’s toughest decisions and removed life-support for their wife and mother following a severe stroke this past weekend. She passed 8 hours later.

    Also, yesterday, John’s cousin posted on Facebook that his beloved wife passed the previous evening.

    Tonight, on Christmas Eve 2025, John and I have tickets to attend the 7:45 pm showing of the film Wicked For Good. When I selected our seats online late last evening, we were the only seats purchased for this time and date. My only other “private” showing at a cinema was for Lion King in 1994. It is bittersweet because last year we were with our grand children when we saw Wicked in Smyrna, Tennessee, and then met the rest of the family (including our great-grandson Jackson) for Mexican food afterwards.

    Zan Henigan Lombardo is a beloved artist friend here on Pine Island I have mentioned many times over the years because she paints amazingly significant ginormous (30-foot!) water color paintings. She hosted a Flash Mob Art event for her current project “Swimming Towards the Light” this past Saturday. I would have loved to attend but we were going to the magical musical launch for Bonnie Makepeace with Rochelle Morris that day. This morning I saw a video of Zan’s group and this is what I replied: This looks like a visual-version of a group meditation or a concert by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir — the good stuff is all better en masse!

    As all are wished a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, my heart holds the pleasant and the unpleasant life events happening simultaneously. Perhaps the simplest truth may be the same for everyone: It’s ALL better en masse….

  • It All Matters

    While statistics are not people, and people are not statistics, it is staggering to hear numbers related to losses. A few days ago the updates on the California fires included: 40,300 acres burned; more than 12,000 structures destroyed; at least 24 people have died; over 100,000 people have had to evacuate.

    As the fires raged in California, the people behind the numbers became more real to me when learning that our great niece and her husband woke to blazes as the space they called home was destroyed by a fire in the second story of the home in which they rented a main floor apartment.

    I was awake at 4:00 am today. That is early, but actually I had been sleeping since 10 pm. While we were in the thick of remediation from a German cockroach infestation the past month I would go to sleep at 10 and be awake and inspecting the kitchen about 12, 2, and 4. Grateful to say “Howard” has helped us be sighting-free for almost 2 weeks with one exception (which likely was a juvenile Palmetto bug who just wandered in late Sunday evening). They say you are probably clear when you go 7 days without a sighting.

    Lying in this morning’s pre-dawn, praying for all who are navigating unfathomable difficulties right now, as I reach for my phone I see a post by our niece writing poignantly about the loss of home and possessions our great niece is going through.

      This not only relates to people in California right now, but to people like our daughter and son-in-law in-law, who just lost their home and most of their belongings in a fire last week in Opelika, Alabama.

      It’s a given that the most important thing is the survival of humans and pets – hands down. I think we tend to say things like, “Everybody got out, and that’s all that matters.” But, while that matters THE MOST, it’s not ALL that matters. It matters to lose the home you loved. It matters to lose all of your favorite clothes. It matters to lose things you held dear – stuffed animals you’ve had since you were a kid, little hand-written cards and letters and pieces of paper written by people you love. It matters to lose the guitar you’ve had and played for years. It matters to lose the collection of vinyls you’ve collected along the way, including ones that belonged to you late grandpa. It matters to lose the plants you nurtured for a long time. it matters to lose even the smallest things – the catch-all dish where you dropped your keys and your loose change when you got home from work, the dishes you bought for your dog, your favorite mug, the artwork you loved on the walls. And it matters that you’ve lost your happy place, your safe place, the place where you could be just the two (or however many) of you. It matters to lose neighbors because you can’t move back into the house you lived in next to them. It matters to lose the route where you walked your dog every evening, and the route you took from your door to work, or from your driveway to your closest friends’ house. It matters to lose the sights and the sounds that were unique to your little spot of the world. It all matters.💔

    This past Friday we visited our former community and saw people who are our friends, some former neighbors, out on Pine Island. Folks there continue to navigate the damage and losses not only from Hurricane Ian in 2022 which displaced us from our former winter home, but also Hurricane Helene exactly two years later and then Hurricane Milton mere days on the heels of Helene.

    Taoism holds that compassion is first among virtues.

    Jesus modeled compassion through actions and words, and taught others how to be compassionate as well. He instructed those about to stone to death a woman caught in adultery, “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.” This is just one of the powerful examples of compassion in the bible.

    Nietzsche’s criticism of the emotion of compassion included a distinction between “our compassion” and “your compassion” dovetailing with the caution to abandon what is called othering in Buddhism.

    This photo was posted by our great niece on Instagram after the fire last week. She is holding this brass horse statue, one of very few possessions that survived a catastrophic barn fire at her home when she was just 11 years old. Her dad had taken a trip to Ecuador and brought the statue back to her. She says she has kept it with her for twenty years “as a small token of hope — a reminder that life persists even in the face of death and tragedy.” She says it still holds hope, even after facing a similar catastrophic fire taking so much from them now.

    Friends who have family and friends in California have shared with me the odd feelings of relief as they learn of the safety of life and property for some and an overwhelming compassion learning of the loss of those precious aspects for so many others both those known personally and those not.

    Perhaps the wisdom of compassion resides simply in the words of our niece, “It all matters….”

  • I Love Her Still

    Anālayo, a Buddhist monk, writes, “As long as the constant change inherent in life is not recognized, death is easily perceived as an abrupt end of all that has thus far been experienced as stable and lasting… it is not possible to live properly and fully unless the inevitability of death is accepted as an integral part of life.”

    My previous post was on June 26. The days between then and now have been filled with my being present to what ended up being my friend’s death. Present with her. Present with those who love her and cared for her, including myself. She died Friday morning, just 24 hours after telling the doctor she wanted no more medical treatment but was choosing instead to be made comfortable and allowed to die in peace. We were preparing for her to come home with hospice care.

    When people ask how I am, I say I am very sad, and I am glad she is no longer suffering, but mostly I am in awe. She is the first person I have touched after death. We were not yet at the hospital when we got the call she had died. I had spoken with that same nurse a little over an hour earlier. When I got to the hospital and entered the room with the purple door card I could not not touch her. Some will understand….

    A dear friend who is no stranger to loss shared this from To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings by John O’Donohue:

      May you know that absence is alive with hidden presence,
      that nothing is ever lost or forgotten.
      May the absences in your life grow full of eternal echo.
      May you sense around you the secret Elsewhere,
      where the presences that have left you dwell.
      May you be generous in your embrace of loss.
      May the sore well of grief turn into a seamless flow of presence.
      May your compassion reach out to the ones we never hear from.
      May you have the courage to speak for the excluded ones.
      May you become the gracious and passionate subject of your own life.
      May you not disrespect your mystery through brittle words or false belonging.
      May you be embraced by God in whom dawn and twilight are one.
      May your longing inhabit it’s dreams within the Great Belonging.

    It is mysterious why her death has affected me differently than any other. Yes, ours was a relationship which spanned over 27 years. I was present for her joys and sorrows over almost three decades. And, yes, we were both winter (Florida) and summer (Michigan) friends. Perhaps it is because I was so present with her that her absence is so alive with hidden presence.

    I saw this on Facebook a couple of days before she died, and shared it with our Grief Journey Group.

      I can’t say I loved you. I just can’t

      Because it makes it sound as if my love is past tense. Gone, finished, ended.

      And that is so far from the truth.

      My love is not in the past. It will never be gone.

      I love you now. Still.

      You didn’t take all this love away with you. It stays. It lingers.

      Some days it jumps up and hits me in the face just to remind me that it is still here. Still persevering.

      Some days it nudges me. Challenges me to keep going. Daring me to find the strength to get through the day.

      But mostly, it just resonates inside of me with everything I do. With every step forward and every glance back. Every close of my eyes. Every breath.

      My love is not dependent on you being here.

      There is nowhere far enough,
      and nothing permanent enough
      to stop me from loving you.

      So I will not say I loved you.

      Because I love you.

      Still.

      ~ Becky Hemsley Poetry

    I will not say I loved her. I love her still.

  • Your Memory is Ecstasy

    The winter season for this snowbird has included swimming in the river of emotions. We spent tender time with friends and neighbors who have lost their homes, had their homes severely damaged, are still working to repair or adjust six months after Hurricane Ian hit. And beyond all of that, losses of many friends and family members.

    We are not alone in loss. Daily deliveries of loss remind us of the truth of impermanence.

    When my sister and brother-in-law performed the final act of love and had their beloved cat euthanized, EVERYONE at the office, including the veterinarian, cried. Here is Janis and a sleeping Twizzle.

    Twizzle was not an ordinary cat. The way he observed, learned, and participated in his surroundings demonstrated clearly he was more human than cat. Larry said he knows Twizzle could have helped him with projects if he had had opposable thumbs!

    Life does not leave us bereft after loss, however, and vivid evidences of the continuity of love continue. Barbara Brodsky asked me when I was grieving the loss of an aged tree on our lot, “Does the tree still live in your heart?”

    Oh, yes…. it lives on.

    Our beloved Pine Island community lives on in our hearts.

    My dharma brother, Allen, lives on in my heart.

    Our cousin, Cheryl Basham, lives on in our hearts.

    I miss Miss Molly, my doggy friend I made in Port Charlotte riding my bicycle.

    My sister, Janis, heard this song on The Voice. She said it speaks truth of her beloved Twizzle. It probably speaks truth of all loss and love.

      Ghost

      Youngblood thinks there’s always tomorrow
      I miss your touch on nights when I’m hollow
      I know you crossed a bridge that I can’t follow
      Since the love that you left is all that I get
      I want you to know
      That if I can’t be close to you
      I’ll settle for the ghost of you
      I miss you more than life (more than life)
      And if you can’t be next to me
      Your memory is ecstasy
      I miss you more than life
      I miss you more than life
      Youngblood thinks there’s always tomorrow
      I need more time but time can’t be borrowed
      I’d leave it all behind if I could follow
      Since the love that you left is all that I get
      I want you to know
      That if I can’t be close to you
      I’ll settle for the ghost of you
      I miss you more than life (yeah)
      And if you can’t be next to me
      Your memory is ecstasy (oh)
      I miss you more than life
      I miss you more than life
      Whoa
      Na, na-na
      More than life
      (Oh)
      So if I can’t get close to you
      I’ll settle for the ghost of you
      But I miss you more than life
      And if you can’t be next to me
      Your memory is ecstasy
      I miss you more than life
      I miss you more than life

      Source: LyricFind
      Songwriters: Jonathan David Bellion / Jordan Kendall Johnson / Justin Bieber / Michael Ross Pollack / Stefan Adam Johnson
      Ghost lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc

    Yesterday I was able to see a close friend who developed dementia and was moved to live near his family. Our daughter had to drive to another city to pick something up from a client. The facility my friend lives is was only 2.7 miles from where our daughter needed to be. John and I went along and we were so thankful to be recognized and to have the opportunity to visit with our precious friend. I took him one of his favorite vegan bran muffins.

    Oh, yes, your memory is ecstasy….

  • Sea of Life Not Stay Same

    Opening email this morning and reading Neale Donald Walsch’s words: “… in moments when things look bleak — especially in those moments — see only perfection, express only gratefulness, and then imagine only what manifestation of perfection you choose next.”

    Cellular memory of our daughter Stacey’s move to Tennessee shortly after the birth of our first grandchild flooded in while sharing recently with a person who had made a cross-country move soon after her mother’s transition in the Midwest. While she was sure she was where she was to be, she was navigating intense feelings of “missing” her family and the fear of additional loss felt overwhelming.

    Speaking about loss, grief, and the necessity of regaining our emotional equilibrium in the midst of a sea of changing conditions was a reminder my current feelings are woven together with the collateral losses resulting from Hurricane Ian.

    My deep listening to Adyashanti shed some light on the universal journey with all of this. The talk was called “Self-Realization: I Got It!, I Lost It!” but it was excerpted from “The Timeless Nature of Being” given October 6, 2019, in Palo Alto, California.

    Something about it is still with you. Not by grasping at it but just almost like that intuitive sense, “What haven’t I lost?” – just sensing that, making space for it…. ~ Adyashanti

    I was at Walgreens waiting at the check-out counter for someone to come help with a rain-check for Ultra Soft Kleenex tissues. A young girl, maybe 10 or 11 years old, was next in line. As my wait time became longer and longer, I told her she was welcome to go ahead of me rather than wait. She said, “Its okay, I have my whole life ahead of me.”

    Unable to stop myself, I responded, “I have my whole life ahead of me, too, but I suspect you have more time than I.”

    A very wise expression came over her face….

    The sea of conditions is ever changing, that is for certain. But notice how much our expectation creates our experience of what is, what was, and what is yet to be. That young girl might have transitioned before I got up this morning. No, the odds are not in that direction, but the life that we experience is not always what the odds might indicate.

    We played a crazy-fun game this week while Linda’s sister, Brenda, was visiting. Poetry For Neanderthals is a word-guessing game like Password, but with a couple of quirky twists. First, you can only use one syllable words as clues. Second, if you use a larger word you get bopped in the head with a 2-foot long inflatable club.

    For example, if you are trying to get your team to guess the word broccoli, you might say “Green thing you eat for live long and have good health.” The game forces you to explain complex ideas using simple words. I like that. I am good at that. That is why this post is SEA OF LIFE NOT STAY SAME.

    One might go on to add SEA OF LIFE CAN STILL BE GOOD.

    It takes a bit to be good at it but you can even say SEA OF LIFE CAN BE GREAT.

    WHAT WILL IT TAKE FOR YOU TO BE GLAD FOR WHAT IS WHILE YOU STILL FEEL SAD FOR WHAT WAS?

    I THINK YOU GET THE POINT NOW. RIGHT?

  • Jingles’ Promise: Asking for a Sign

    Source: Jingles’ Promise: A Father’s Quest for Truth on the Appalachian Trail shared as a Sacred Story with permission from Norm “Jingles” Morris and Rochelle “SherpaShell” Morris. (p. 86-87)



    (ALL PROCEEDS FROM THE SALE OF THIS BOOK WILL BE DONATED TO HELP PEOPLE RECOVERING FROM TRAUMA AND LOSS.)

    Adam was a poet. The last poem he wrote was titled “DragonFly”. The day we picked up his ashes, I asked for a sign, anything to let me know that he was still with me. Something I could believe in and get comfort from… something that Jingles could also recognize.

    That day, when I got home, there on the back door knob what was the biggest dragonfly I’ve ever seen. It’s translucent purple wings had a five-inch spread. I felt Adam’s smile envelop me with warm, love and kindness. I let go of my fear and longing and out. I was at peace. I asked the dragonfly to stay where it was until Jingles got home to see it. It did! Adam was always a good boy like that.

    Spiritual teachings describe dragonflies, butterflies, birds, electrical events and other phenomenon of nature as signs that our loved ones from across the veil may be present.

    When you get a sign, instead of brushing it off, lift your gaze and open your heart. What’s the worst thing that can happen… someone standing next to you in line thinks you’re crazy? It just may be the beginning of a beautiful conversation.

    About Jingles’ Promise: A Father’s Quest for Truth on the Appalachian Trail : This is a true story from authors who are soulmates and mental health therapists. It is a tale of love, sorrow, forgiveness, mystery, and perseverance that celebrates life and the human spirit. Jingles tells the story of his Appalachian Trail hike from Georgia to Maine while SherpaShell provides support from the backroads in her camper van. Together, they reflect on their experiences and insights with the hope of helping others recover from loss and trauma.

  • Retha’s Visit

    Sacred Stories

    It had been an intense retreat. She was grieving so many recent losses…

    Her best friend had passed with ALS. Her brother passed suddenly of a heart attack while climbing the stairs to visit their mother. Then her mother passed from the coronavirus — a virus that prevented her from being able to attend her mother’s funeral.

    And now, she was navigating this estrangement from her siblings.

    She had been sitting all week, doing Vipassana, being with the pain while wanting freedom from the suffering.

    She saw a small plastic picture frame, face-down on the chair. Picking it up, turning it over, she saw it was a drawing of a fish. A hand-made thank you card from a friend. The words read: Gratitude for all your compassionate support.



    The card was signed, “Vipassana love, Retha.”

    Carefully lettered up the right side of the card, “Emerald Isle 2019.” They had both attended the Emerald Isle retreat last year. Seeing Retha’s card was such a powerful gift!

    Retha’s visit was especially welcome as Retha had also passed….

    “Whatever has the nature to arise, has the nature to cease, and is not me nor mine.”

  • Bear and Heart – BIG LOVE!

    Sacred Stories

    She and her husband found this bear at a rock shop in Canada and they both fell in love with it.


    His passing was such a shock…. and loss.

    They had divorced, remaining devoted.

    Making arrangements with the funeral home, she stopped at a shop. The first thing she saw was this heart.



    She had not seen this type of stone since that day in Canada!

    “It felt like he was sending BIG LOVE today….”


  • Ambiguous Loss

    Last week was a week with loss. Good Friday, the husband of a client/friend/colleague passed. Holy Saturday, the father of a business acquaintance passed. Easter Sunday, a loyal member of Saint Joseph Buddhist Sangha passed. A Buddhist teacher invited me to use the 49 day ceremony.

    49 Day Ceremony

    When someone passes away, in addition to a funeral service that usually occurs three or seven days after the death, we have a ceremony on the 49th day. Traditionally, the period of 49 days after someone dies is seen as a time for that person to check their consciousness and digest their karma. According to Buddhist teaching the bodhisattva Ji Jang Bosal helps the deceased during these 49 days to perceive their karma so when they return they are reborn to help this world, rather than continue in the cycle of birth and death. Buddhism teaches that there is a life in this body, then a time of investigation or consideration, and then a new life …

    Loss is such a raw part of human life.

    Listening to a TED talk by Nora McInerny, I was moved to laughter and to tears. McInerny is the author of The Hot Young Widows Club: Lessons on Survival from the Front Lines of Grief.

    McInerny said something members of our Grief Journey Group have said to one another over and over for over twenty years: We don’t move on from grief, we move forward with it.

    The next day, opening the May 2019 Guideposts, I see, ‘A Different Kind of Grief’ by B’ette Schalk. Schalk felt she lost her husband to anxiety and depression, writing, “Gone was the vibrant man I’d fallen in love with 24 years earlier, the man who liked going to parties and playing cards.” The article closes with a single page with 5 headings of great wisdom for caregivers: How to Cope With Ambiguous Loss.

      How to Cope With Ambiguous Loss

      Put a name to it.
      Use “both…and” thinking.
      Accept that good enough is enough.
      Manage your mixed emotions.
      Imagine new hopes and dreams.

    Ambiguous loss is what my friend is living as her husband is in a facility for those with Alzheimer’s disease.

    Ambiguous loss is felt by students afraid to be at school for fear of a mass shooting.

    Ambiguous loss is felt in the aging and staging of life.

    On the light side of 40, she recently shared with me she had read on a website about cancer that having cancer was like living with a loaded gun pointed at your head. You did not know when it would go off, but you knew it would.

    Ah, ambiguous loss….

    Whether it is our youth, our goals, our jobs, our homes, our health, our strength, our courage, or our loved ones, or our memories, we all navigate the waters of ambigious loss.

    The best way I can think to close this post is with this Deep Spring Center Thought for Today:

    “Your loved one is not dead, only he has left his human form. He is now expressing himself through you, through your growing open heart that can allow itself the experience of grief and allow that grief to become a catalyst for compassion. He is expressing himself through you in all the ways he spoke to you in your life, the joys and the sorrows. He is expressing himself through every human that he touched in this lifetime. And he is in the soil and the stars and the rain and the sun. You cannot lose him.” ~ Aaron

    Whatever has the nature to arise has the nature to cease and is not me nor mine.

  • Holy Notre-Dame

    WORD FOR THE DAY

    I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly,
    acutely miserable…but through it all
    I still know quite certainly that
    just to be alive is a grand thing.

    Agatha Christie
    Visit Gratefulness.org/

    This week’s news out of Paris was shocking, and of all times to have it be Holy Week for humanity to experience such a devastating loss of such history and magnificence and relevance and beauty. The Cathedral of Notre-Dame destroyed by fire.

    Reminding ourselves of impermanence at times like this, we could/should read all of my blog posts rolled into one message. The message essentially is Agatha Christie’s: Just to be alive is a grand thing.

    We might start with Does the tree still live in your heart? and Tree of Hope.

    Then move back to Hey, Ma Durga. The following quotation is from that:

    “My consciousness has never associated itself with this temporary body. Before I came in this earth, I was the same. As a little girl, I was the same. I grew into womanhood, but I was still the same. When the family In which I had been born made arrangements to have this body married, I was the same… And, in front of you now, I am the same. Ever afterward, though the dance of creation change around me in the hall of eternity, I shall be the same.”

    Nothing—NO THING—lasts forever. We know that, and yet we deal with loss as though it is some sort of personal punishment.

    Yes, it is loss. Yes, it is sad. Yes, it is difficult. Yes, it is painful.

    But we do not have to suffer.

    We suffer because of our subtle judgment, the way we tell the story in our own heart and mind. Today’s Thought for Today from Deep Spring Meditation Center explains that well.

    Deep Spring Center
    Thought for Today

    Subtle judgment is caught up in the story that contracts and says,
    ‘I’m not good at this’ or,
    ‘I should be able to do it better.’

    I might look at it and say,
    ‘I can do it better.’

    That’s not a judgment.

    I know I CAN do it better.

    Can you feel the difference?

    ‘I should be able to do it better.’ Tightness, tension.

    ‘I can do it better,’ is a relaxed and spacious perception.

    ~ Aaron

    I have been dealing with Comcast this week, updating router, cable box, and DVR. It took me five trips to the store, and many hours on the phone to finally get everything working. Right in the middle of all of that frustration (and I was feeling frustrated!), I knew nothing that was happening was eternal.

    Whatever is happening, watch the stories you tell yourself about what is happening.

    Make this a truly HOLY WEEK. Give up suffering….