Grief Support

Lately, I've been thinking a lot lately about the sadness that comes along with the passing of an animal companion, not just because of my own loss, but because I am faced with loss quite often in the work I do. I recently realized that since last July, I have lost approximately one animal client per month, which has been painful for me, regardless of what an honor it is to help animals and their guardians through that final and often very difficult stage.

I will confess that I have had moments here and there, where I question whether I can keep doing the work that I do. Knowing that I will have to continue to face the transition of many more animals, and knowing that I will feel each loss very deeply, weighs heavy on my heart sometimes. In those moments, where I feel overwhelmed by the losses, I try to remind myself that death is a natural part of our experience here on earth and that it is as important to honor an animal during their life as it is to honor them during their death. And still, it is a challenge that I face.

For the guardians who have suffered these loses, I do everything I can to ensure that they feel supported and not alone and yet, I am still always left wishing I could do more to ease the pain and sadness they experience. I know there is just no way around it. Losing one of our beloved animal companions is going to hurt like hell, no matter what.

In recent weeks, I have been fortunate to learn about some of the support resources that exists out there for people who have lost a pet, because Jewel's mom has been doing a fair amount of research, as she navigates through her own journey of grief, and she has been kind enough to pass along what she had found. I thought it might be helpful for me to share with all of you, the things she has shared with me.

First of all, there is a fabulous website she found called: Animals in our hearts. The website is filled with resources, such as an on-line grief support system, information on animal communication, articles about the grieving process and the afterlife, etc. They also have free teleclasses. The next one coming up on May 11th is titled, Legacies of Love: Finding the Grace in Grief. They offer other teleconference workshops on a variety of topics (including dealing with grief). It looks like a wonderful place to find support, answers and comfort.

Their web address is www.animalsinourhearts.com

There is another animal website Jewel's mom found called The Animal Communicator Forum. I was pleased to see information on this site that can help grieving guardians as well, such as an article called "Exploring Myths about Healing Grief" and a section of the website called "Death and In Spirit" that has information on the dying process, grieving and reincarnation. There is also a section where you can listen to recordings of previous teleseminars from 2009 and 2010, with many of the topics of those seminars being relevant to people who have experienced a loss.

You can locate this website at: http://animalcommunicatorforum.com

There are also some great books out there. Here are a couple of recommendations:

Animals in Spirit, by Penelope Smith and Animals and the Afterlife, by Kim Sheridan

And there is actually a place here on earth called the Rainbow Bridge. (I had no idea). It's a national monument in Utah. If you want to learn more about it, you can go to: http://www.nps.gov/rabr/index.htm

For those of you who are dealing with your own grieving process, maybe some of these resources will reach an unmet need and help you find some more peace.

As for the precious animal clients of mine who have made their transitions in the last 10 months, I miss them all very much. Each one of them touched me very deeply, and while I shed quite a few tears over each of their departures, I have felt truly honored to have been a part of their lives, and in many cases, been a part of their deaths as well.

For the guardians of these incredible animals, who had the joy and the privilege of sharing their lives with; Hanna, Bood, Lucy, Montana, Natalie, Shadow, Lacy, Jewel, Misha and Kiki . . . I hope you will all remember that the love your animal had for you when they were here is just as strong as it always was. Their physical departures can't stop the love that exists between you. And I hope you will also remember that your beloved animals are watching over you . . . still caring very deeply for you and hoping you find more and more moments of joy, as you adjust to life without them in the physical world.

Seeing a Sign

I awoke Thursday morning, doing what I usually do when I wake up . . . mentally reviewing all the things that are on my schedule for the day and what I need to accomplish and then trying to will myself to get out of bed and get the day started. (Unfortunately, I’ve never been one to excitedly spring out of bed like some people do. With me, it's always been a process.)

So Thursday started out like any other morning, except that when I finished my mental review of the days activities, I felt my eyes well up with tears. I thought it was odd, as I didn’t know what there was to cry about. I laid there a while longer, fighting back the urge to cry, unable to identify what was making me feel sad. I just kept thinking “What is wrong with me today?”

Once I finally managed to get up and get some coffee in me, I got into “busy” mode . . . returning phone calls, reading and responding to emails, doing some laundry. I was determined to keep myself busy and ignore the sadness that was lurking below the surface, but in between calls, in between emails, I kept getting pictures in my mind . . . pictures of Lucky’s last day here and they were pictures that made my heart ache.

I didn't know why I kept seeing images of her in our final days together but I found myself wishing we could have that last day again . . . wishing I could lay on the floor with her, and listen to her breath, feel her fur against my face. The images would come, and then I would force myself to get working on my to-do list again . . . until the images came back into my head. After a while, I finally stopped and looked at the calendar and saw that it was April 15^th. It was 6 months ago, to the day, that Lucky passed away.

The strange thing was that I knew this “anniversary” was coming and I even warned my best friend last week that I feared I may be emotional when the day arrived, but it had been such a crazy week, between work and dealing with insurance companies, car repairs, rental cars, etc . . . I had completely forgotten it was the 15^th until I looked at the calendar.

I felt better knowing what was making me feel so teary, but I didn’t know what else I could do about it, so I kept plugging along, trying to power through my to-do list. Around 3pm, I decided to go for a run. It was the first time I had been out running since the car accident almost two weeks ago and again, I felt teary on the run. I tried to rationalize that it from the pain that I still feel in my back and neck, but I knew in reality, it was probably a sign I needed to just "be" with the feelings of sadness I felt, instead of trying to ignore them.

When I got back home, I looked at the clock and then my calender. I had an important conference call at 5pm and then a client appointment at 7pm, and it was already 4pm, so I decided I’d better give myself some time right then to work through the emotions that were coming up. It may sound odd that I was "scheduling time to be sad" but I've learned in recent years that shutting the feelings out when they are coming up doesn't do anything but make me work harder to keep the feelings at bay.

I sat down on my bed and began talking to Lucky. I told her I couldn’t believe it had already been six months since she left because in some ways, it felt like it was just a couple weeks ago. I told her I missed her terribly and that I wished she was still here. I told her I didn't know if I would ever be able to remove her bed from our room and that it makes me smile when I pull a sweater out of the closet and find her hair on it.

I picked up her urn from it's spot on the shelf and held it in my hands. On the front there is a plaque that says “Lucky (For me)” That is the title of the book that I was working on in the last few years of her life, that I have yet to finish and publish. I wondered if I would ever get the book done or if the exercise of writing it was just for she and I. I thought about how my friend David helped me decide that was the right thing to put on the plaque, when he drove us to the place where she was to be cremated. Not only was it the title of my book, but it summarized perfectly the way I felt about having her come into my life . . . it was certainly "lucky for me."

This next part, I hadn’t wanted to share with anyone, because it’s a little embarrassing, but if I don’t share this part, then the next part won’t make as much sense. So, with a cringe as I type . . . I’ll confess that the next thing I knew, I was curling up on the floor, in the spot in the hall where Lucky passed away. At first, I was in observation mode . . . I focused on what I was seeing from where I was laying, thinking about the fact that it was the last view Lucky had before she left. It made me smile because I knew she had been able to see the big beautiful tree through the window in the front of the house, and she could see the CD towers with all my treasured music. She could see the coffee table and the couch, where we spent so much time, sharing meals and playing with tennis balls. I was glad that was the view she had in her final days here, it was a nice view.

And then the tears came . . . and they came on strong. There I was, laying on the floor, clutching her urn close to my heart and sobbing. I had moments of thinking “wow, Maureen, this is kind of pathetic” but I would push those thoughts out because I knew I just needed to feel what I was feeling and the truth was, I felt sad. I still miss her with every fiber of my being.

My mind was swirling with thoughts, some of which surprised even me. I realized a lot of my sadness was over the fact that I hadn’t received any signs that she has been here in spirit, and sadness over the realization that I didn’t really need any signs to know that she has been around.

I used to watch Crossing Over with John Edward all the time and I remembered how many times spirits came through to people who were totally skeptical about “the other side” and how it seemed to be more important for spirits to get through to those who didn’t believe in an after life. I realized that since I am not skeptical, I technically don’t “need” a sign because I already believe in the spirit world, I already believe that spirits can still see us and visit us once they cross over. But I felt sad that since I didn’t need any convincing, I may not ever get a “sign.” It felt childish but it was what I felt, so I just accepted it and tried not to judge it.

I laid there, holding her urn and crying until I felt I had gotten it all out. Then I calmly got up, put the urn back on the shelf, washed all the tears off my face and sat down to prep for my 5pm conference call. It sounds kind of odd when I type it out, but it felt very normal and very natural. It was a way for me to process what I was feeling and that is what I had done. It actually felt like a huge accomplishment for me, to just acknowledge my feelings, and give myself permission to feel them, since I spent the first 30 years of my life stuffing my feelings and judging them as a weakness. I was glad that I had given myself the time to feel, since my old pattern of stuffing feelings was attempting to resurface earlier in the day.

The conference call went well and then I got ready to go see my client. She lives about ½ hour away, so I was in the car by 6:30pm, making my way up 280. I was feeling alright, although I am more tense in the car these days, since the accident. I find that I am much more concerned about what other drivers are doing than I used to be and feel on edge when I am in the car.

I was cruising along, listening to the radio when all of the sudden a car changed lanes right in front of me. At first, I was irritated that they pulled in front of me with so little room between us but then my eyes glanced down at the license plate. It took my brain a minute to compute and I felt like I was doing one of those slow-motion-blinking things, as I tried to focus on the personalized plate in front of me. It said “LUKY4ME.” It didn’t look like a California plate . . . it was a fuzzy mixture of red and white, and as I was trying to focus more intently, to figure out what state the plate was from, the car abruptly changed lanes again, into the fast lane and zoomed off.

I wondered for a few minutes what a person with “Lucky for me” on their license plate might look like and I wanted to catch up to the person and find out, but the rental car that I am driving right now doesn’t seem to want to go any faster than 65 mph, so even though I tried for a few minutes to catch up with the car, I was unable to.

I slowed back down, wondering why I hadn't been able to see what the driver looked like and then it dawned on me . . . that I had already seen what I needed to see. It was my “sign." My sweet girl had found a way to get through to me . . . and as I continued along the freeway, I was filled with feelings of gratitude. She knew how much I wanted to see a "sign" that let me know she was still with me and she found a way to reach me. I laughed to myself as I realized it was probably also a sign that I need to stop whining about the fact that spirits only come through to skeptics. :-)

Finding the good in the not-so-good experiences

A week or so ago, I was listening to a speaker who was talking about her beliefs that something good can come from things that may not appear so good on the surface, which is a concept I believe myself. Such as when a client's animal was hit by a car years ago (which is obviously not good) but when they went to the vet because of the injured leg, the vet found a tumor that they would have never known was there, as the animal seemed to be in perfectly good health. If the tumor had gone undetected, it might not have been treatable, so in a strange way, being hit by the car ended up being a positive, since it helped them detect and remove a tumor that could have taken the animal's life far earlier.

This speaker also said that we are meant to meet the people we encounter in our lives, no matter how random the meeting may be . . . that there is a reason for everyone we cross paths with. I have had this experience myself many times. One instance that stands out in my mind is many years ago, the holistic healer I was working with told me that I would be able to help myself more if I developed better body intuition. I had no idea what he was talking about or how a person might go about developing body intuition and I left his office feeling rather confused.

Two days later, I was scheduled for a conference call with some work colleagues. We were using a conference call system where each person dialed in using a specific number, so that we could all connect. When we got on the call, we discovered several other people on the line who weren't part of our group. We realized the conference service had double booked the line, so one of my colleagues said she'd call the conference service and get it straightened out. She asked me to stay on the line, so I could let the rest of our group know what was going on. While we were waiting, I asked the other people on the call what they were meeting about and they said "We coach people on body intuition." My jaw dropped. (and yes, I ended up working with them to develop body intuition, not knowing at the time that a couple years later, I was going to change careers and really need that skill).

Last weekend, I was unfortunately involved in a bad car accident. I had stopped for a pedestrian, who was waiting at a cross walk and the car behind me stopped, but the car behind them barreled into us at a very high rate of speed. All three cars were severely damaged. (The pedestrian was fine.) We spent several hours on the side of the road waiting for police and EMT's to arrive. It was a long, frustrating night, followed by an even longer and more frustrating week.

Hours were spent on the phone dealing with insurance companies and car repair shops. The realization that the guy who caused the accident did not have insurance, even though he said he did, made the experience even more frustrating. On top of that, my back and neck were injured far worse than I thought at the time of the accident and by Wednesday, I was at a chiropractors office getting x-rays and hoping they could give me some relief from the physical pain I was experiencing.

When I met with the doctor to review my x-rays, he said, "For as awful as it was that you were in a car accident, it may have actually been a good thing because there are some things going on with your spine that really need to be addressed." I thought it was interesting, since I had just listened to the speaker the day before the accident reminding me of my belief that something good can come from things that don't seem so good on the surface. I thought the timing was interesting . . . that I was being reminded of this, the day before I was rear-ended.

As for her other message, that everyone we meet, no matter how random the meeting, come into our lives for a reason . . . I have been thinking about that a lot as well. The couple who were in the car behind me were two of the loveliest people I have ever met. They were an older couple, about my parent's age, maybe a little older. Since we were on the side of the road for several hours, we had a lot of time to visit. I remember at one point telling them that of all people I could have been involved in an accident with, I was grateful that it was people that were so nice, who I felt so safe and comfortable around. They said they felt the same way.

Since the accident was one week ago tonight, I decided to call them and see how they were doing. I ended up talking to them for 40 minutes and in spite of the difficult week we have all had (with insurance issues, car problems and back pain), we had a lovely conversation. I don't know yet why we all met each other, but the ease and pleasantness of our interactions make me feel that there is some good that will come of it. Before we hung up the phone, the husband said, "We feel like we have a new friend in you" and I admitted I felt the same way.

And there is one more interesting piece to this story. My previous chiropractor no longer works in my neighborhood, so I had to find a new one this week. I remembered that over a year ago, I received a glowing recommendation from a woman who took her dog to the same holistic vet that I took Lucky to. I dug through my old emails and finally found the name and number of her chiropractor. When I called, they had just had a cancellation 5 minutes earlier, so they were able to get me in that day. At one point, the gal who runs the front office asked me what I did for a living. When I answered her, her eyes got really big and she said, "Someone just told me the other day that I should find a reiki practitioner to help me with a health challenge I am facing, I'm so excited to meet you."

I guess the long and short of it is, I am really glad that I listened to the speaker that day, because it was a nice to be reminded of these concepts. It gave me a different perspective in which to view the events of the last week, helping me to see the positives instead of letting myself get mired in the negative aspects of what I have had to deal with this week.

I am going to be able to get some issues with my spine addressed that I didn't know existed, I have some new friends and possibly a new client. I like being able to focus on all of those aspects of the experience, as it makes it much easier to keep moving forward with a smile on my face.