When someone we love deeply dies, many of us feel as though we have lost our way and very unsure of where the path is, let alone what path we are on. Many of us planned on stopping and getting off anywhere but here.

When we are headed towards heartbreak, any direction can seem better than the one we are on. Somehow though here we are and there is no turn around or turning back. We are on a one-way road that we never chose. The date our journeys started, the length of time it took, may have been moments, days, weeks, months, or years, but still our arrival came too soon.

Some of us knew where we were headed; some of us did not. Either route is difficult. Each of us is left missing someone we loved and perhaps wondering if they are thinking of us.

One of the harder lessons of grief is that it is never a straight path and its’ mileage is unknown. Those are hard things to hear and harder still to accept; but pretending will not make our journey any shorter or easier. If you have ever gone hiking, you know about stones on a path. Some are so tiny they are barely noticeable unless it winds up inside your shoe and suddenly it can become a small irritant that if left inside can soon become largely annoying and painful. Then there are those other stones along the path, small ones, medium ones, large ones and even boulders. 

Grief’s journey comes with its own share of stones that seem to come just where we hurt the most. Some of those stones may be anger, or insensitive comments and advice from others. It may be their unrealistic expectations of us; their belief that grief and our deceased loved ones are something to put on the shelf while we just move on.

It may be their implied belief or in our face comments that “we are just feeling sorry for ourselves; others all around us have it worse, their aunt’s husband died and she’s handling it so well, implication “Why aren’t we and we better get it together and FAST. Other rocks may be guilt or pangs of regret that we feel for not having done more or done it differently. When we hit those rocks and we will; our tendency may be to sidestep them rather than hit them head on. Some times we may not have a choice.

The important thing to remember is to take care of ourselves and our needs. If we find some people don’t know how to be anything but rocks in our path; if they won’t’ move then we need to take another path that will allow us to steer clear of them at least for now. Even when others are not gentle with us we need to learn to be gentle with ourselves.

When most of us think of a journey, we think of a beginning and a ending point but grief doesn’t work that way. Grief changes over time, its sharpness diminishes, its ability to incapacitate us ends; but just like our love for our loved ones remains so do threads of our grief that still reside in our hearts and our memories.

From time to time, those threads pop up and remind us of what was and our longing for them. We will find our way though, the way that works for us. We will not reach the end but we will reach a new beginning, a future that we can once again embrace as we honor the memory of those we have loved and continue to love.

Deb Kosmer

© 2008

Deb Kosmer

Deb has worked at Affinity Visiting Nurses Hospice for ten years, the first two as a hospice social worker and the last eight as Bereavement Support Coordinator supporting families before and after the death of their loved ones. She provides supportive counseling, developed and facilitates a variety of grief support groups, including a well-attended group for men only as well as other educational events. Deb received her Bachelor’s degree in Social Work from UW-Oshkosh and her Master’s degree in Social Work from UW Milwaukee. She received her certification in Thanatology through ADEC. Her writing has appeared in New Leaf Magazine, We Need Not Walk Alone, Living with Loss, Grief Digest, numerous hospice publications and EAP publications. Some of her poetry on death and dying will be included in a college textbook for social workers in end of life soon. New Leaf has also used some of her poetry for a line of sympathy and anniversary of death cards. On a personal level, Deb's 14-year-old son died after being struck by a car. Her 31-year-old sister had died in a car accident eight months earlier, and her 56-year-old father died from a heart attack exactly three years before. These three unexpected deaths within three years started Deb on a journey she never wanted to be on and she learned first-hand the importance of having the help and support of others. In the years since, she has experienced other losses, the most recent being the unexpected death of her 44-year-old step-daughter who died from complications three months after routine surgery. Deb's passions are writing, reading, education, nature, and family. She is currently working on a book of her grief poetry. She recently moved with her husband to Waypost Camp, Hatley WI. Her husband accepted a job there as Property Manager and his position allows them to live on-site with acres of woods and a lake. She anticipates the quiet beauty to be a strong catalyst for writing.

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