Today we celebrate our 46^th wedding anniversary. Sixteen thousand eight hundred and one days married. Our nineteenth anniversary, seven thousand seventy six days,  since the death of our son in a firefighter training accident.

We have shared a destiny of a lifetime love chosen by two, built by two, respected by two. Lived one day at a time, thru the best and the absolute worst, always looking forward, always wanting to be closer.

Many things can destroy a marriage; few are more capable of destruction than travelling the shared grief of losing a child. The loss of a child causes a massive destruction and eventual rebuilding of the souls of both parents. We become first unrecognizable to even ourselves, and slowly we become two completely different people, assembled painfully with the bits and pieces of our blown apart souls.

We become distrustful of life itself when we lose a child. The inherent promise of life, that we should not outlive our children, has been broken for both parents. We see and feel our own pain, but we also see and feel our lover’s pain. For many, it’s just too much to travel this painful road together and marriages fail.

In simplistic terms, over years, we each fell apart, we each reassembled ourselves into very changed people, and as we slowly fell in love with life again, we slowly fell in love with each other as two different people.

The scars on our souls have intertwined as we helped each other to heal, and as we have healed, those scars shrink and have pulled our two souls closer together.

To those couples who have recently lost a child, please be patient and kind to each other. Even if nothing about today reminds you of love shared, be patient, hang on to some small bits and pieces of each other. When one sinks, swim down and pull them back up.

It is a great challenge for a marriage to survive the loss of a child. Every anniversary like today will be a reminder of that loss, but also a reminder that love has conquered that loss and kept you living and loving together. If your marriage does eventually fail, at least be able to say that you both tried and you both failed.

Be well and peaceful, build love around loss towards loving life again, towards loving each other again and deeper.

See also:https://distillinggrief.com/2023/11/30/grieving-the-loss-of-a-child-as-a-couple/

Many, perhaps even most, deaths involve some measure of human error. These deaths appear, in perfect hindsight of grief, to have been absolutely avoidable. They weren’t caused by a bolt of lightning, flood, or an earthquake, they were caused in some part by the action or perhaps inaction of another human.

Grief becomes very focused and complicated in the most personal ways when we know, or believe that we know exactly who to blame for our loss and the resulting grief. Grief from day one is a cold dark place that has been emptied of the warmth of our lost loved one. In darkness, anger flames up easily and we are drawn to the light and heat of the fires of our anger.

I have written a lot about anger being a cancer of the human soul that consumes love. One of the first things I ask people who struggle with grief is “what’s making you angry about this loss?”. The simple reason for that is that I have come to understand that when we remain angry in grief, we fuel that fire with pieces of our own soul and we hollow our soul out until it is a thin empty shell.

In a way, anger in grief is like being lost at sea on a broken wooden ship in deep winter. We make the decision to build a fire, and start burning the deck chairs for light and warmth.  As time goes on, we have burnt all the loose pieces of wood, so we start taking wood from the structure of the ship to stay warm. All of our energy goes to maintaining the fire, little of our energy goes to finding a way back to safety. Months or even years later, we have eaten everything we had on board, we have burnt the entire ship except the hull, and we are still adrift in a cold dark place.

In grief, this same process happens because we took found comfort and took refuge huddled in the warmth of our anger.

There is probably no human error that is harder to forgive than the suicide of a loved one. I first came to understand anger as a cancer of the soul after my brother’s suicide twenty-four years ago. My parents both found unquenchable anger in the loss of their youngest child. I would speak to them on the annual days, birthdays, death days, and holidays. Over decades, I could sense that their souls were more and more fragile, and the anger would flare more easily. I would bring love and understanding hoping to extinguish the anger for them. They spent emotional energy stoking that fire; I eventually came to accept that they would die with that anger still burning and they never did let it go until their own death brought peace.

In the process of, my grief for my brother’s suicide, I taught myself to forgive him for the mistake of taking his own life, and to forgive him for the irreparable damage he left behind, and for the scars left on those of us who found ways to heal.

Forgiveness is in fact a selfish thing we do. We forgive others to better our own life. We forgive others to leave the responsibility for their wrongs to those who have wronged us. We forgive others to relieve ourselves from the self-destructive anger we host in the fires of anger eating our own soul from the inside. We forgive so that we don’t hate, so that we can love life again. We forgive to find life again after loss.

Five years after my brother’s suicide, our twenty year old son died in a firefighter water rescue training accident in our small community of 5200 souls. Not one, but a long series of many human errors set the stage for the death of a firefighter. The chaotic random events of the Universe put our son on the boat that would kill him, in the seat of the only firefighter ejected from and killed by the boat during a pointless and unplanned demonstration of a high risk maneuver, at the sole choice of the young firefighter driving the boat.

It was a national news event in a small town. I was inexperienced with media, but the media needed a parent or loved one to comment. Home from the hospital the night before, a sleepless night crying as a couple, crying with friends of James in the driveway before dawn, a house filled with caring friends and family, and before noon a wall of media at the end of the driveway wanting a statement.

Honestly, grieving my brother’s suicide had taught me well. Had I not had that experience, my words would have been destructive, angry and would probably have ruined more lives than needed to be ruined that day. Media these days seeks anger; the media prefers a grieving parent in anguish to a calm forgiving rational understanding.

I spoke about love: James’ love of life, his many academic and social successes that included firefighting. I spoke about the love James had for his fellow firefighters. I spoke about the love of community that had James helping to raise funds for the boat that was needed to save life, the boat that ironically took the life most important to us. I spoke of finding the causes of the accident, but also sharing the blame for any human errors across our community and the obligation to learn for the mistakes to prevent future deaths.

I did that with a soul full of the immediate fires of anger, knowing that if I opened the gates of my anger it would catch like wildfire and spread to the souls of many others. Privately I asked the driver of the boat to remain as a firefighter, to become the best trained and safest firefighter in the community, to save lives where he could with knowledge and skill that he lacked in this accident. He did all that, and tears later, he married and had children and bought a house just up the street from ours. Some or all of that might not have happened without forgiveness.

There is a dangerous age for young men, between approximately ages 15-25, when the addictive powerful hormone of testosterone flows freely and the brain has not yet fully developed critical thinking skills. Irrational macho bravado and impulsive unreliable ego driven decision making can combine in any instant to cause more avoidable deaths by human error. The car full of kids driving too fast leaves the road and kills some or all occupants. The skier feeling peer pressure who tries to tackle a slope beyond his skills and is crippled or dead from that decision.

When the death of a child is caused by suicide or their own human error, or the human errors of a group of friends, the fires of anger are especially intense and doubly destructive. The longer they burn, the deeper the damage, and in many cases the anger effective ends much of the possibility for joy in your own life. In these cases I look at intent and try to respect the intent as a guide.

My brother’s suicide was intended only to end his own pain, not to cause the resulting pain among his family and friends. Our son’s death happened in his pursuit of giving back to his community, the best possible of human traits. I respected that by trying to do as little damage as possible the the community and friends that James loved.

So, as you grieve a loved one lost to human error, ask yourself if there was intent of damage to your life as a survivor or was this death an accident that unintentionally wasn’t prevented. Minimize the accidental collateral damage to your life by forgiving those who have been human in their errors.

 Be well, heal a broken soul by seeking the glue of love to reconnect the shattered pieces of your soul, enjoy the gift of today’s dawn by forgiving the darkest of days past.

After promising to be more attentive and prolific writing on this blog, I appeared to fall off the face of the Earth. I have a good excuse, as well as a fresh journey through grief where no one died and it all ended pretty well.

Achilles had his heel; apparently my tragic weakness might just be my eyes. In 2020, during Covid I was losing visual acuity in my right eye. I’m of that age, and we’d been watching cataracts develop slowly, so a referral for evaluation. Then we moved in the middle of Covid, and re-started the months long process of finding an ophthalmologist. It wasn’t a cataract, it was something called an epi-retinal membrane and needed a retinal surgeon’s skills. More month of following, evaluating and finally in Fall 2022 I had surgery. The results weren’t stellar. I have a full field of vision, but fluid build-up in the critical parts of the retina leave that eye very challenged for reading.  No disability, great vision in the left eye. In Fall of 2023 I had cataract surgery on both eyes, all went well and I had the best vision I had had in years, thanks to my “good” left eye. April 2024 and annual retinal follow-up disclosed no issues of concern.

A weekend away with friends and I golfed worse than usual. Driving home I struggled to read small signs. Monday I woke up and struggled to read a computer screen. Emergency eye clinic disclosed seven issues with my “good” eye which had formed its own epi-retinal membrane. Friday a huge amount of laser work was done to reduce the chance of a full tear of the retina in preparation for surgery. Follow up three weeks later and I was nearly blind in my left eye, could read only large test with my bad eye, so quickly losing functions of daily life. My epi-retinal membrane had advanced at the fastest pace my doc had seen in ten years, so I jumped to the top of the list and was operated on August 29^th.

After this surgery, it takes a week or two before basic vision comes back. No pain, just inconvenience, physical limitations, some physical irritation and lots of emotional irritation.

It’s been a full blown grieving process on a roller coaster of fear and hope. Losing the ability to drive is minor, but I spend a bunch of time writing and blogging, so I felt isolated. There is an aura of positivity around you, but it’s sometimes hard to feel that from inside the problem.

I preach that anger is a cancer of the human soul that consumes your love of life. But anger is essential to defining grief, so on any great change in life I give myself ten minutes of anger to define what I must or might need to grieve. My initial comment when this second eye epi-retinal membrane was diagnosed was that this was my worst nightmare. Within minutes, I had slapped myself and realized that I had had and survived worse nightmares when I lost a brother to suicide and later our son to a firefighter training accident.

I believe that, in life, we should hope for the best but be prepared for the worst just in case. I know someone who lost most of his vision, and gained enough of it back to function pretty well after more than a dozen eye surgeries. He found inspiration that if I had survived the loss of our son, he could survive the loss of his vision.

Now twenty days post-op, the results so far have been pretty spectacular. I’m rolling back font sizes and screen magnification and writing this comfortably. When this hit, I was in the middle of building a deck, paradoxically I could work slowly with vastly diminished eyesight and mostly finished the deck before surgery. It will be weeks before I can get back to it, but having that project was exhausting and encouraging and it kept me busy doing something. I developed methods to measure and cut accurately without great vision, I adapted. Now that I can see it, it’s maybe some of my best work ever. It kept my mind off the possibility for worse outcomes.

I often say that once you’ve lost a child and figured out how to love life again, the rest of your life will be easier. Even facing near blindness and a lack of function was easier than I expected. I’ve answered all of the self-centered “why me?” questions before, and am comfortable that life is just chaotic and random and lacks evil intent.

I am now building a visual bucket list of road trips to visually spectacular places that I really want to see before I die, or perhaps before another eye crisis makes sight impossible. Because, much like losing a loved one, I know that I can visit memories that have been important parts of loving life even if I can’t touch or see them. It’s important to make those moments happen in your life, to populate your soul with positive emotions and experiences while you can. And, in grief it’s never too late to visit and activate the memories of our loved ones.

I will once again commit to trying to write more often, barring another Achilles issue.  Thanks for your patience.

Be well and peaceful, build love in your life, for your life and the lives of your loved ones.

A post of mine first on Quora over four years ago. I will never forget the struggle at times to live breath to breath in fresh grief.

Just Breathe

I lost a beautiful brother to suicide at age 43 in 2000. We had no advance hints. signs, cries for help. We were blindsided. He left behind a widow, two preteen children, two living parents, three siblings, and hundreds of family and friends. He was successful in the physical world, but somehow he felt enough pain to choose to kill himself. I imagine he felt buried in hopelessness at a moment in time that he lost sight of everything he had and everyone he loved. I healed my soul, my parents never managed to heal their souls.

I lost a perfect 20 year old son in 2005 to a firefighter training accident in our small hometown. Our souls were ripped apart and our lives drained of love. Breathing hurt, The next minute seemed impossible, The next day seemed unfathomable. We had our hopes and dreams shattered.

As the minutes became days, then weeks, then months and now years, we healed in ways we never imagined. It took a long time and a lot of work. We have each patched our torn and tattered souls, we have each filled ourselves with a love of life again and most important we love each other and carry the love for our son forward in our daily lives.

We healed because we have always had and taught the purpose to love life and love each other. My bother’s suicide awakened me to fundamental importance of love, my son’s death opened a deep spiritual well and beliefs that I would never have found without loss.

Do this please.

Take a deep breath and hold it for as long as you can without breathing out.

When you want to breathe again, keep holding it. Hold it until it hurts, until your body craves air. Keep holding it as long as you can. Be tougher than you thought you could be.

When you finally give up holding that breath in, you’ll will need to breathe out before you can breathe the air you need back in. Gulp it out, gasp it in.

Gasp for air, take some deep breaths and relax and understand:

Your body and soul want to survive. They will let you suppress hope for a time, but eventually our need to live and our purpose to love will come to our rescue and override almost any unconscious action that we might put in the way of our life.

As you gasp for air, resolve to do your part in finding a purpose in your life. Find your soul’s passions and build love for yourself and for life.

There is just never a lack of hope for us in this world as long as we know and seek love as our purpose. Your body and soul fought you when you held your breath. Your body and soul want you to breathe, to live and to love the gift of today.

Let your soul speak, it speaks quietly with the wisdom of generations if you can find the quiet to hear it.

When you can listen to and understand your soul, you will always have purpose and gratitude which are the fundamental keys to loving your life and building love in our world.

Now please go hold your breath past the point of pain and start listening when your soul steps in to save you.

Some mornings I still hold my breath to help remind me that I am alive with this gift of a new dawn

Apologies, I have not posted in several months. I have changed my routine to allow a much needed serious focus on physical fitness, yet another of a life long series of rebirths of my too often ignored aerobic capacity. That rebirth has been wonderful and welcome; the human body’s capacity to rebuild physically is quite unbelievable. But, my call to writing got pushed to the side. It was emotionally a much needed break; writing about grief can be intense and consuming. I have missed writing, and so will seek a better balance of my time and energy.

Metaphysical Therapy

We come to grief frightened and expecting to suffer. We’ve been taught that by generations before us, and by our own observations of those grieving.  

Grief is a highly evolved and automatic emotional human response, a process that we seem to have little control over. That which humans can’t control usually triggers a response of anger or fear. Anger over the pain and inconvenience of the changes we can’t deny or avoid, and fear that grief will somehow change us for the worse. In early grief, these are intended and rational responses that we should not fear. When we have little experience with grief, or the specifics of the grief we must process, fear is a natural and necessary trigger to the actions that incorporate loss of a loved one into our ingoing lives.

I watch people’s social media posts on grief and see many who openly struggle with apparent pain and anger for a very long time. Naturally, we will each resent the changes that the death of a loved one brings to our life, but I believe that while the fiery anger of early grief is a natural as an evolved and purposeful call to action for our souls, that resulting anger and pain is not meant to be a lasting of our life after loss.

Today, I would you to consider grief as Metaphysical Therapy. To make that more relatable, I will draw some simplistic parallels to Physical Therapy that we use to heal our body after injury or surgery. I have done some significant physical therapy in my life for injuries sustained in the passionate and sometimes immature seeking of physical fun. Physical therapy usually requires the intentional acceptance of inflicted pain with the end objective to heal and reduce future pain or to minimize ongoing disability. Physical Therapy also requires work, exercises and stretches that we do on our own that may cause discomfort and pain, always with the objective of healing. If we don’t force ourselves do the work of physical therapy, the consequences to our life will be less function and more pain for the rest of our lives.

And so it is with grief, if we don’t grieve with the purpose of minimizing the disability that it causes, we will emotionally limp through the rest of our lives.

I believe that our soul is a metaphysical part of humans that processes the energy of love. We can’t see it, we can’t image it. Our soul is a library of experiences, emotions, and responses to life. When injured our soul calls out to us with that great emotional pain of grief as well as a sense of panic. The loss of a loved one is a traumatic metaphysical injury to our soul, and grief is logically a traumatic and painful metaphysical injury.

Our bodies, within limits know how to heal themselves back to function, often well enough to forget the pain of the original injury. If the injury is severe enough we may be limited for life with reduced function, a limp, loss of range of motion, or ongoing daily pain.

The same way, your soul knows how to heal itself fairly well. In fact grief is a regular part of normal daily life, often we heal small losses so easily that we don’t notice or connect is as the grief of, for example, an accident or loss of a job.

A common point I make when discussing grief is that choosing to allow ourselves to heal it important. It confirms a healthy desire to return to a more normal, pain free life that has comfortably incorporated the loss of a loved one. However, the path through grief is confusing and there is no singular map or solution, because each person who grieves a loss will grieve differently, because each has loved differently.

A common fear of healing is forgetting. Some feel that if we eliminate the pain of the memory, we will eliminate the memory. The reality is that if we don’t eliminate the pain, we can only see and remember the painful part of the death, effectively blocking our view of the life and love we shared. We remain focused on the end of the life, not the totality of the love.

Pain causes anger to linger. Anger is a cancer of the human soul that consumes the love collected there, hollowing out life out and returning us to an empty existence. It’s natural to lose love in early grief, sometimes we empty our soul completely. If we allow pain and anger to linger, we might lose all of the love we gather in daily life and remain empty of love and in angry pain for a long time.

Grief can become a habit as it redefines us. As our soul consumes love from anger and pain, we feel empty of love and crave the sympathy and attention that others compassionately grant to those who are grieving. People circulating in their daily lives grant that attention and compassion in hope of helping those who have lost to begin healing.

Grief is meant to force us to redefine ourselves incorporating the love we shared and the lessons from that love into the rest of our lives. To redefine ourselves we need a goal, or a statement of purpose that gives us a direction and purpose. Failing that direction and purpose, we wander aimlessly within the loss, rather than exploring purposely within the love we have valued. Here’s a link to my grief, a process that took me many years of wandering to define: https://distillinggrief.com/2023/06/22/gardens-for-grief/

If grief becomes a habit, you may have become defined by your grief, defined by your loss, and then perhaps you have accepted to become your loss and to emotionally limp through life. People around you, people who love you will see the pain and have a sense of missing of emotional parts of you, perhaps with pity as some might see an amputee in a wheelchair.

If your grief has become a circular painful habitual way of life that you wish to change, you must work to make those changes. Perhaps you might need some professional help, perhaps you need to begin to eliminate the anger around the loss in hopes of reducing the loss of love from your soul. If all of the love you acquire in daily life is consumed by the anger of loss, you will remain hollowed out by this loss and be less able to love your life.

To heal from loss, you must look grief in the eye and confront it until you no longer fear it. If you run from grief, know that grief is a skilled stalker, a hunter waiting to pounce at your weakest point emotionally. It’s much better to seek ways to learn from grief, to walk alongside of the inevitable griefs that love and a good life will make necessary.

Find your destination, make a goal, and plot a path in that direction, then start taking small steps away from the pain and damage of the loss towards a metaphysical garden filled soul with memories of love you have shared.

Love is life, loss is the inevitable loss of a physical life we have loved, not of the love we have shared in life.

Be well and peaceful, extinguish anger, grow around loss.

Grief is a lonely place. For a time after the loss of a loved one, we have lost our own sense of self and to varying degrees our trust in the fundamental natural order of the Universe. We change in our ability to interact socially; our more casual friendships are hard to relate to because they may struggle to understand the changes we are undergoing.

In many ways, we feel more comfortable with those people who have experienced significant loss that bears similarities to our loss. We may write about our loss on social media, both to offer the support of our experience and healing, but also to find others who have lost as we have. We need to develop the comfort of being able to speak of our loss to both friends and to people we meet through life.

There is a process we go through to learn to talk about our loss socially, because we won’t deny our loss in conversation, but in the early days of face to face conversation we just can’t complete a sentence about our loss without breaking down. Social media is a seemingly ideal place to explore and become comfortable with what we say, and how we present our loss to both friends and new acquaintances. We can take our time and craft and edit our message, and then post it.

The most common misconception when posting about loss is that we post about our loss to gather sympathy or condolences. In my case, it’s about sharing the experience I have with incorporating multiple losses into my life. Tips and thoughts that have worked for me, gathered over more than two decades of experience with multiple losses. Those thoughts fill my blog and writings with positive outlooks on understanding and managing grief. My blog is non-commercial and self managed. With my blog, I can post a reply with a link to one or several of my posts on specific topics. Because the answer is complex and can never fit in a small post of a few characters.

And so, my timeline is filled with people who post about their loss, about their journey, about what they want people to be aware of. It ranges from childhood cancer to neurodegenerative diseases like ALS. I am inspired by how strong people become through ALS and I mourn their loss when it is posted because I have followed their journey and been inspired by them. I am inspired by the stories of battles with cancer, the human spirit shines through in our will to live.

Within the community of those who post about loss and battles for life, there are always stories of negative comments, random people who complain about your posts on loss. Every social media platform has blocking and mute functions that allow people who don’t want to see these posts to block or mute them. Yet, a tiny percentage of people choose to be nasty, angry or hurtful. They seemingly can’t help themselves.

Let’s be clear here, loss strips your soul naked and makes you vulnerable. We you post and are attacked for posting something vulnerable, you did nothing wrong. Any abuse you received is from an abuser, not because you spoke your heart. The vast majority of people confronted by an angry abuser will question themselves first. That’s where abusers gather power. The abuse you may receive randomly on social media is NOT YOUR SHAME. I have seen it on every social media platform I have written on, a tiny percentage of angry nasty humans who feel empowered when hiding behind an anonymous profile to hurt someone. These are social vandals, in some cases psychopathic social vandals. When confronted with such abuse, use the tools of the platform to block, mute, or report the abusive behavior.

I want as many people as possible to better understand the highly evolved process of grief, and our soul’s innate ability to recover and grow around loss. If you haven’t yet experienced profound grief, then only luck has kept you away. Everyone who loves passionately will experience loss and the ensuing grief.

Grief is never a failure. Grief can only happen when we have loved well, so grief is an affirmation that we know how to love, we have loved, and with time we will love again when we are ready.

Be well, share openly to reduce the loneliness of grief for others, and ignore the social media vandals.

You’ve lost a loved one and you’re grieving. You may have lost sight of part or all of yourself. It’s completely normal to not recognize yourself, or to see yourself as wounded, diminished, damaged, or even someone completely different than yourself. Grief can trigger re-evaluation of your own life, making you satisfied or dissatisfied with life in general. And so begins what for some is a profound unhappiness or discomfort with their own life, and for others is merely a trigger to rush head long into changes they feel that they need to make,

The foundation or your life is your soul. I have explored my soul from a point where I believe it had been completely emptied. As a technician and observer, I watched for and logged changes as my soul rebuilt itself, and have developed understanding and functional models for our soul and for the energy of love that binds and powers our soul.

We are born into an existence of unknown duration, with an empty soul. As we grow, mature, and find love, our soul fills with memories and experiences that turn that existence into a life we love living. The metaphysical definitions of our life fill or soul with vast collections of memories and life experiences that are held in a shape our path through life has defined and a shape that we have come to recognize as our self. These memories and experiences are structured and bound with the energy of love, much like the atomic structures of physical matter.

The love that holds our soul together comes from love that we have built in our life, as well as love that flows from many places into our lives mostly from relationships of love and from personal passions. Love that we share with intimate lovers and friends is able to resonate and amplify, and so those who love well can capture and hold enough love energy to build larger more complex souls thank those who love little.

In truly trusting love relationships, we allow lovers direct access to powering parts of our soul directly, and we directly power parts of their soul. The resonance between our souls expands two souls with shared love, far beyond what either lover could do on their own. The first of these powerful soul expanding shared loves happens between a parent and their child, then as we mature and build an intimate lifetime relationship with a lover, a larger and larger part of our soul is powered by that lover.

In the first two years after our son died, I avoided looking in mirrors except for basic needs. I did not look into my own eyes in the mirror because all I saw was emptiness and pain. It’s often said that the eyes are windows into our soul, and my windows showed me the extent of the damage to my soul that losing a child brings.

I came to understand that the human soul, while virtually impossible to kill, can be shattered into an infinite number of pieces that no longer make sense to us, pieces that no longer reflect the light of the person who we have come to accept ourselves to be.

Unrelentingly, grief forces you to change. You cannot emerge with a soul looking exactly as you did before loss. And so, without enough love to support itself, all or part of the shattered pieces of your soul drop to the very bottom of your soul in a heap that resembles destruction of everything you know to be true.

Your soul is essential to life. In other posts on this blog, I define the soul as where we store and distribute love’s energy. If visualize physical matter and we understand that our soul is a metaphysical collection of memories, emotions and experiences bonded together into form by the energy of love that has turned our existence into a life we love living, perhaps we can see that our soul resembles a giant complicated molecule or crystal or perhaps giant mirror of the life we have lived so far.

Since big parts of our soul are memories and emotions assembled with love that flows from connections with those we have lost, parts of our soul collapse when they die and their love energy suddenly stops flowing into us. If the collapse is significant enough, and the loss of a child is that significant, our entire soul can collapse.

And so, the memories, emotions and experiences that we call a life that we love are now in disarray at our feet, seemingly invisible, and for this time we merely exist because without that love holding things together we don’t recognize even our own life.

The good news is that the emotions, memories and experiences have not disappeared or been destroyed. They are the individuals atoms of that complex metaphysical molecule we call life. They are the building blocks of what was a life that we have loved, one we have defined for ourselves. We can rebuild and redefine a life that will resemble our past life in many ways, or not at all, because we will decide which parts we keep and which pats we discard. We will decide the shape and structure of this rebuilt molecule of life from the debris collapsed at the bowwtom of our soul.

We will not do this alone, we have only lost one of the sources of love’s energy that formed this molecule of life, and we still have the ability to find and capture new love energy through daily life, through contact and exchange with many other people we love in our life.

Where do we start rebuilding? We will find some pieces of what we consider to be foundational, and we find some love to energize it and we connect it to the next piece. We’re short on love, because we have lost, but even small amounts that flow into us can begin the rebuilding process. This makes our family and friends important to our redefinition, because love they flow to us, often because they know we are grieving and want to help, can reenergize and stabilize the pieces our soul has broken into.

Trust in life is hard after death, so we lose the ability to trust others to maintain parts of our soul. Loving life was once a subconscious function of our soul, now becomes something we must think about, and that process is exhausting to our physical life. Over time, the memories and emotions in our soul, the shattered pieces of us, will become more self supporting and solid.

Slowly, and it does take a long time, a shape of this new version of your redefined life begins to emerge com the rubble. Like a puzzle, the more pieces that find a place where they fit and are stable, the easier it is to see the shape your life is becoming. But this puzzle will have many pieces left that fit nowhere. These are the parts of your old life that can’t fit into your redefinition. They will clutter the floor of your soul, perhaps forever, or they will be eventually discarded to make room for your newly defined soul as it expands again.

In this rebuilding period, we often find atoms of our soul that we had fit into our old life, but can’t find a logical fit or place for them in our new life. Inevitably there is guilt in abandoning something that you once found value in, but in reality these were often the weak relationships which were more destabilizing than stabilizing. Grief has given you the reason to evaluate what you keep and toss anything that doesn’t fit. You may be surprised what becomes the strongest parts of your new life, people and relationships.

There is great resentment and anger that is a result of this process that forces us to redefine our lives, lives that we were immensely happy with. The images of those fleeing wildfires seem to fit some of us as we flee life after the death of a loved one. People grab their memories, their photos and videos and become refugees looking for a new home. Death of a loved one makes us a refugee that we never wanted to be, and stole a person we would want with us as we rebuilt our life after this fire.

Anger is a cancer of the soul that consumes love. Love is the energy that bond our soul into a solid cohesive structure. Allowing anger into grief, makes reassembling your soul much hard, sometimes impossible. The anger will continually tear apart pieces that you have decided to keep and new structures you have put together. You will have constructive times where things begin to make sense, followed by anger that tears that apart so you need to start over on that part of your soul. Exhausting and counterproductive, so always extinguish anger when you feel it.

With time, with love, a new you emerges from grief. With more time, you might love that new you more than the old you. With time you will love life again. With redefinition, you will smile and laugh without guilt, because you live and love knowing that you have rebuilt your own soul around the memories of those you have loved and lost. And when you love life again, you have moved well beyond the simple pointless existence that grief brought you to, without losing the essence of your life before grief.

Be well, seek peace, give your soul permission to rebuild itself around loss, and then give your soul as much love as you can find in daily life.

To understand the importance of grieving well and safely, let’s take a few minutes to talk about what happens when grief damages a life. My retired life spends several winter months in a resort environment with a better climate than home. When the weather is good, I will often write early mornings in the quiet pool area. Mostly in these times I interact with resort employees, either maintenance or security who are taught to engage the resort guests in conversation. When asked, I tell them I am writing. When asked what I’m writing, I tell them I am writing about grief.

I engaged last year with “C” a security guard in his early 30’s who spoke of his struggles with grief. For a young man, he had a significantly challenging journey of grief. The lingering death of a mother who suffered a brain bleed, then the long slow death of his father to cancer where he became the primary caregiver, mixed with the opiod death of his sister. In his words, he had some anger management issues, and that he had self medicated with alcohol, and had screwed up previous jobs and relationships. He was doing the work to stay clean and sober and was starting to feel stable. I would see him every few days and we’d chat. Another member of the security team commented that “whatever you’re talking about with “C” is making a dramatic difference, he’s lighter and happier.

I had not yet launched www.DistillingGrief.com when I left for home. I’m back nine months later and “C” is no longer employed at the resort. His struggles and problems made him unreliable and a bad fit to interact with people in a resort environment. His struggles with the damages in his life that has included grief is ongoing, and not headed in the right direction.

The average person lacks the resources in time and often money or benefits to pay for professional help. Most have a social network in a similar position, and almost everyone lacks good mentorship through grief. This creates a potentially destructive environment where positive outcomes are less likely.

The average employer lacks the mechanisms, funding, or will to identify and help people who are struggling with grief or the subordinate issues of anger and addiction due to grief. So these people fall through gaping holes in the support network of their lives.

I have no idea if “C” ever found www.DistillingGrief.com it’s not a highly visible or easy to find resource. If, by some incredible stroke of luck, “C” reads this post, please reach out to me. I am interested in helping you find the help that you need. I saw a compassionate, caring young man who had suffered losses beyond his ability to process and sacrificed parts of his life to help nurse his father to a bad death from cancer. I saw potential and meaning in parts of your journey that you saw as failures or afflictions in your life. “C”, you matter. Please reach out to me via the contact on the home page.

To others who are struggling with grief, please try to find help to redefine your purpose in life. If you’re involved in a church, start there. There are many support groups for the grieving, try to find one. Loss isn’t easy, but destroying your own life because someone else died is not the path you should follow without fighting to get your life back on track.

If you know someone caught in a downward vortex of grief, reach out. Offer them a kind word, some gentle but honest listening, and then be persistent and consistent in staying in touch.

Grief is not meant to be a destroyer of lives; it is an ongoing expression of love.

Be well, seek peace, rebuild love around holes that form in your soul from loss.

I have grieved well for a long time. I write about grief. I understand the purpose and paths of grief better than most. I am rational and physically and mentally healthy.

Certain holidays and annual events have challenges and negative physical and emotional effects on me that I have repeatedly failed to immediately attribute to grief. Christmas is one of those holidays.

Our general perception of grief is one of injury or affliction, something to be healed or eliminated. We go to war against grief, really against the Universe for bringing this loss to our lives. As we incorporate grief into the rest of our lives, we can come to feel that we have overcome the emotions and crushing pain of early grief. We grow around the loss, we somehow become bigger and better able to not feel the emptiness of that hole.

We shared Christmas as a joyous holiday with our son for twenty years before we lost him. It’s been eighteen more Christmases without him. Truth be told, I often wonder how I will feel in the next years when we will have been without him longer than we had him with us.

The holidays add happy pressure to the rest of our lives, and that pressure compresses the empty part of our soul where we have lost someone. That compression of emptiness can flow thru the small cracks left behind and into our enjoyment and celebration of our lives and the loved ones we have surrounding us.

The real fear, I believe, is that we will someday become comfortable enough in our grief to forget to remember our losses. And yet, we remain hesitant to bring those losses into our happy times for fear of diminishing the joy around us.

When the day comes, my mood will elevate, my slightly elevated heart rate and blood pressure will normalize, I will regain my energy, my heightened aches and pains will lessen and I will bring some stories of the joy of his happy life into our family gathering. I will kick myself for not recognizing the signs earlier and then I will repeat this again next year.

In my writings about grief, I project the comfort that I have with grief. This message is proof that comfort is a relative and variable thing when grieving, the waves of emotions become ripples and life goes on. But, coincident with the annual cycles of life, the waves can come back, and while it’s discomforting, that’s just normal for a short time.

When a riptide threatens to pull you to sea, they say to swim across the tide not against it. The goal is to survive the tide until it lessens, not to drown yourself fighting it to exhaustion. Holidays and celebrations bring a riptide of emotions, even to a gentle flat sea of daily life. Swim sideways, stop fighting it.

Be well and peaceful, swim sideways thru the holidays, and be kind to those who have lost, you are one of them. Also, be kind and understanding of those who haven’t lost, they have happily been blessed with no point of reference or understanding of what you’re feeling.

A significant challenge of grieving is that we don’t have a lot of good models for grief, and we fail to talk with our loved ones about what to do after we inevitably die. When you’re without specific instructions about how to grieve someone, I suggest that you do your best to grieve them as you would want people to grieve you.

One of the greatest gifts you can leave your loved ones is the preparation of a model of how to grieve you.

In this exercise, it’s just a simple statement about how you wish them to grieve the loss of you. I believe that this subject is ideally an ongoing discussion that rarely happens in daily life. If you write it, it can be shared at any time with them while you’re alive, or it can be your obituary, included in a funeral program or handed out at a visitation, or attached to your will. There will be less confusion and wasted energy, so this type of instruction is a loving act.

A natural response to writing and posting something like this could be to take it as a cry for help, a precursor to self harm or suicide. My brother’s suicide has been well incorporated in my soul and I believe myself to be immune to thoughts or acts of suicide. The most dangerous thing I will do today is to cross a street. I am nowhere near dying, very happy and healthy. I am conscious and rational, although there could be some debate on either of those points. I simply believe that we should live each day as if it might be our last, and so I’ll write instructions for grieving me now:

Grieving instructions for Peter H. Ratcliffe

I believe that my life has been a gift, but I have always been attentive to an awareness that the gift of this life has always been finite, a limited time offer that must always eventually come to a physical end.

When the last grains of my grit have trickled through the hourglass of my life, I want all who have loved me to understand that, with your help, I have lived a truly gifted and wonderful lifetime where love and happiness were always central parts of my life.

Please know that as I left you, I was a very loved and fulfilled man with very few regrets. We have built some great love together, so let’s celebrate that.

My legacy, my ongoing journey of loving you and being loved by you is now meant, as I have written so many times, to become the responsibility of you, the next generations.

I want you to extinguish anger from your grief, because anger is a cancer of your soul that consumes love. I do not want any sadness for what you cannot change, only appreciation for the great love that we have shared.

It’s important to tell you that I would not wish my death to become sadness, anger or an excuse or a crutch for you to ever do less than your best efforts at life and happiness. I always expected great things from you, and you always delivered far more than I dared expect, because you have expected even greater things from yourselves than I did. Whatever you are, whatever you have become is not because of me, I simply sat back and watched marveling at how well you have each learned to love life.

I will have done the hard part of this process by being the one dying, and I ask you to cry only for a very short time and only if truly necessary and then please get on with the easier part, the fortunate and honourable tasks of remembering and celebrating the love that we have shared.

Do not focus on the single universal event that we call death. There are literally millions of things from my life for you to celebrate, moments, memories and emotions that we have shared, and all that laughter that we have shared is now embedded in your collective souls. Please laugh early and often, and feel no guilt because I am no longer available to laugh among you.

There are possibly even a few good lessons in those memories, both of how to do things and how not to do things. Share them with each other and with the next generations.

Most importantly, I wish that you gather and talk face to face more among yourselves, keep each other out of danger, build common love to fill any voids that my passing might create.

In honour of my memory, please find ways to better and more deeply love each other and teach the world around you to love more and to love better.

Be well and peaceful whenever you remember me, let the memory of me be a calm place in any storm you encounter.

Your turn

You’re grieving someone and you have never talked about them dying, you’re not sure what path to follow what to do and feel, how to grieve them and find comfort for you.

Write your own statement of how you will want people who have loved you to grieve. Then follow that path any time you grieve anyone who didn’t tell you how to grieve their loss. After all is said and done, love is exactly about respecting and treating people exactly as you would respect and treat yourself.

For those anticipating grief

In the path of illness, when a terminal diagnosis or hospice care becomes a reality, you still have time to ask the dying how you should grieve them. There is no greater closeness in loving someone than the honest confronting of the inevitability of an impending death. It clears the decks and opens the doors to very deep connections and greater peace for the dying love one.

Be well and peaceful, seek comfort in great memories reflecting the lives you have loved and lost.