GROWING AND BLOSSOMING FROM A GRIEF RETREAT

This post was written on July 23, 2017. 

Yesterday was a good day. There were many moments of sadness, tears, and sorrow, but there were also moments of healing, laughter, and grace. It was good.
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I am grateful for any "good" part of any day that has come my way since my husband died in January 2016. Anyone who knew my fun-loving, hug-giving Al knows that my life isn't nearly as "good" or as funny now as it has been for the last 40 years with him by my side. But I am trying, and yesterday was a big step towards more healing, learning, and peace as I was one of about 60 people who participated in the first-ever, full-day Heart 2 Heart Family Grief Retreat hosted by Palliative Care Services of the Regina and Qu’Appelle Health Region. It was fabulous.

We spent most of the day in group sessions that were specific to our type of loss and age group.

The session in which we shared our individual stories of losing our spouse was one of the hardest parts of the day. It was an important exercise that led to more healing, but many of us found it extremely painful to talk again about our losses – all involving palliative care circumstances – and to listen to the stories of the others in the room. However, telling the story is an important part of the process of grieving.

This sharing forged a strong, almost instant bond among us. We built on that as we attended workshops, yoga, meditation, made pebble art, exchanged information and fun stories about our loved ones, ate snacks and meals, discussed coping strategies, and so much more.

I was exhausted emotionally and physically at the end of the day, but the memories and the toolkit of tips and reminders that I carried home were priceless.

I was reminded that I am not alone on this grief journey. Others are also hurting, but there is help available if we are brave enough to seek it. Talking to other widows and widowers can be painful but helpful as they have also experienced the excruciating loss of a life partner. They do not judge; they listen and support. These are difficult skills to learn and put into action. I’m still working on them myself.

We received a wonderful handout with information from Victoria Hospice.​ I will read this handout many times over the coming days and months, and check other resources online and with a counsellor to continue with the process of grieving and healing.

I was reminded about the tips in my own blog post, “What I’ve Learned About Grief”, that I wrote just one month after Al died. I decided it would be important to share that information again because it could help someone. (Here’s the link.) I was reminded to reread my own blog post and to try to live those words, being gentle with myself – especially in my sadder, lonelier moments.

I learned about the power of self-compassion meditation from a Regina meditation instructor who also told us of the meditations of Tara Brach, available online. The instructor led us in an exercise where we placed our hands, one on top of the other, over our hearts and tuned into our breathing and feelings. The theory is that you let your thoughts float gently through your mind without judgment and you concentrate on your breath, just being in the moment for a few precious minutes of your busy day.

We talked later about how, when we lose our spouse, intimacy in the form of a daily hug or touch of a hand on the shoulder or arm is gone. We need to learn to be kind and compassionate to ourselves. We learned that touching our own hand, stroking our own cheek, or holding our hands over our heart can calm us and give us comfort. This 15-minute exercise helped many of us and gave a name to something I had found myself doing often when I felt anxious or sad. I learned this hands-over-heart idea a few months ago from my dear friend Susan. I did not know it had a name or a specific, science-based purpose until now. I was grateful for this meditation session.

On my way back to the retreat sessions from the park where we meditated, I noticed an abundance of beautiful flowers on the edge of the community garden nearby. I had sat by the other side of this large garden earlier in the day during a moment of grief after I saw all the photos of deceased loved ones, including a photo of my Al, on a memorial table. My mind quickly said, “He doesn’t belong there,” but I’m sure every other person at that retreat thought the same about their loved one. Still, the sight of Al's photo on a table with about 40 other photos hit me in an unexpected moment and I went outside and cried, stared at the garden, collected myself, then went back inside.

I had not noticed the flowers at the edge of the garden until then.

​I stopped to not only smell the roses but to take some photos.

Flowers make me smile and, at that moment, this garden was the fitting end to the meditation session. Flowers are colourful and full of life. They give me pause and hope for the future.​

We ended the day with a memorial service for our loved ones. We wrote their name or a note or a wish to them on a small paper “ornament” and hung it on a tree as we entered the chapel. We listened to inspirational words, in prose and poetry, sang a song with piano and guitar accompaniment, stared at our lit candles, and sat in silence. 

“Grieving is hard work,” a friend and pastor reminds me regularly. So yesterday was a good day of hard work.

​​I left the retreat grateful for the counsellors, leaders and volunteers who did so much to make it a good day; for the other participants who shared their stories and wisdom so freely; and for my family, who supported me with a debriefing and constant love as I made my way one more step along this road that we did not choose.

This summer when I was visiting my oldest daughter and her family, I bought a garden stone that sums up this story.

Gardening brings me peace. ​Gardening is good.

We are never sure of what tomorrow may bring, but we can carry on and live in hope, with the help of others. 

Our Inspiring Cancer Survivor's book visits Berlin - Blog Part 11

Berlin. Capital city of Germany, more than 3.4 million people and tons of rich history. No wonder we were so busy and overwhelmed when we were there this summer.

Hi. It's the Never Leave Your Wingman book again, and I am reporting to you from this intriguing city that is such a contrast of styles and stories - incredibly modern mixed with remnants of Communism and old-war history. So in case you haven't been following my blogs up to this point - I am the true story of a seven-time cancer survivor in Regina, Saskatchewan, Canada, who dressed in costumes and danced into her chemotherapy treatments alongside her supportive husband - her wingman - when she was fighting Stage IV liver, lung and bone cancers in 2009 and 2010. Her name is Dionne Warner (her husband is Graham Warner), and she is very much alive and well. She still dances into her chemo treatments for her eighth cancer diagnosis - liver cancer again - but that's not what this blog is about today.

As I said, I'm a book and I was written by author/editor/book publisher Deana Driver, and she is the person who usually writes this blog. But this summer, she surprised me and took me in her backpack as she and her husband, whom I call Publisher Al - because that's his name, and he is Deana's husband and business partner in their company DriverWorks Ink ... Oh, wait. Where was I? Oh, yes. I was in Regina, Saskatchewan, when they scooped me up and took me with them to Europe on their once-in-a-lifetime adventure this summer. So I've been blogging about what I (and we) saw and did in Europe.

So here we are in Berlin.

Well, okay, that really wasn't our FIRST view of Berlin, but you gotta admit he's kinda cute. And the German guy beside him wearing Lederhose is also kinda handsome. Ha Ha Ha!

Okay, seriously now. The random parking was something we still weren't quite adjusted to, even after we'd spent several weeks in Europe.

But my author took an immediate liking to these little guys - the 'Walk' and 'Don't Walk' characters that appear on many of Berlin's traffic light stands.

Turns out the little guy is called Ampelmann. He came to life in East Germany and became very popular. His popularity increased even more when there was a move to replace him for more traditional pedestrian 'walk' symbols after the 1990 reunification of Germany. Public outcry ensured that his image is now in Western and Eastern Berlin and merchandise bearing his likeness is extremely popular.

My author thought she would see if she could be Ampelmann.

Um... No.

Berlin was heavily bombed during the Second World War and there are many modern buildings...

...mixed with some more traditional-looking styles. But what is most striking about Berlin is the vibrancy of its people, who are constantly building, rebuilding, and preserving the history of this most historical place.

This chalk artist was representing the scene in front of him - the rebuilding or constant building of his city.

In 1933, the Third Reich burned 20,000 books that came from Humboldt University's library. This made me sad. I had to sit down and think about that for a while.

I was also sad to see the many plaques in the sidewalk outside the university that honoured many professors who died during the war - many in concentration camps.

It lifted my spirits to see this angel...

...and this one.

The Reichstag is Germany's parliament building and features the most incredible glass dome.

Here's Publisher Al and my author on the roof, outside the dome.

This is what we saw inside the dome as we walked up the spiral walkway around the dome. The Reichstag uses solar energy and the dome has a large screen attached to its centre piece which moves with the sun. We enjoyed the audioguide as we walked up to view Berlin from the rooftop.

Berlin is a city of memorials. This is a 2005 art installation of 2,711 gravestone-like concrete pillars to honour and remember the Murdered Jews of Europe.

The pillars are of all shapes and sizes. A walk through these pathways, complete with hills and valleys, fills one with awe, sadness and gratitude.

With this beautiful historic church as a backdrop, these circular displays honour some of Berlin's builders, intellectuals, artists and teachers who died during the Second World War.

My author and I were particularly moved by the memorial on the top here. Else Ury was one of Germany's 'best-known and widely read' children's book authors. 'She was deported to Auschwitz and murdered immediately after her arrival.' 

Writing this blog led me and my author to find this wonderful tribute to Else Ury. It made us happy to read about this talented author's life and how she is being remembered.

The most common tourist attractions in Berlin are the Brandenburg Gate... 

...Checkpoint Charlie... 

 ...and the Berlin Wall. 

We saw several different sections of the Wall which stood from 1961 to 1989, separating West and East Germany. Above was a section at a memorial near Checkpoint Charlie.

Here's a piece  of the wall with murals and memorials on it.

Passersby could get their passport stamped here - for a fee - with the original East Berlin visa. We didn't bother. We looked at and read the concrete wall instead.

This section of the wall is still in its original position but is now protected from the 'woodpeckers' - people who came and chipped away sections of the wall for souvenirs and resale after 1989. 

And this was our favourite section of the Berlin Wall - the East Side Gallery. It is the biggest remaining stretch of the Wall, covering 1.3 kilometres. With more than 100 paintings by artists all over the world, this International Memorial For Freedom is known as the 'world's longest open air art gallery'.  

We'll let the art speak for itself...

I was delighted to see another artist working on his piece. Very cool.

So that's it for this part of our wonderful Europe trip. For now, we'll say goodnight - from beautiful, vibrant, complex Berlin.

I'll see you again soon.