Dearest Corinne,
I just wanted to email you to tell you I think about you everyday and I'm grateful that you are in my life.
I had a difficult Sunday. Something just gripped me. I don't know how to explain it other than to say it was a body memory. It's like my 5 senses remembered Brendan all at once and I was aware of how very attached I was to him when he was in the physical body. I dreamt a lot about him last night but I don't remember the dreams. I'm not sure this will make sense but I do feel him in my heart. I keep wanting to find him "out there", by that I mean his spirit somewhere beyond our earth. However, I mostly feel at one with him in my heart region. I don't know what that means. I'd rather have him in the physical realm and in my heart at the same time. But now I have no choice but to continue a different relationship with him. The Grief Movement calls it "Continual Bonds".
I still hug his pillow and Trader Joe's shirt as the pillow case. After two years .I've still never washed it. I hug the pillow as I'm going to sleep and just continually whisper, "I love you Brendan, I love you. I miss you Brendan." over and over again. Sometimes I find myself just wanting to be alone in my cozy studio for hours and days so I can be alone with my thoughts of Brendan. I went into my closet where I keep my favorite items of Brendan's. The carhart jeans I bought him. The trademark t-shirts he's worn in photographs. I still have his patchouli oil that I smell every once in awhile. Although it doesn't smell exactly like Brendan. It smelled much better on Brendan's skin. Occasionally I open his breath mint tin that he used to keep crazy glue and floss in next to the mints. Kind of funny! But he always had it on him and it's so strange that it is on the Ancestral Altar instead of in his pocket. I go through his backpack to look at his belt, his chain wallet and other eccentricities that was a trademark of our Brendan.
The lock of his hair. How I loved the curls that he hated. When I go on my usual walks and hikes in the forest or beach I find a shell or feather and I bring it back and put it on the ancestral altar. Like you, I ask him to go with me for nature hikes and he sometimes leads me to interesting places that I wouldn't think of going.
Life, Death and Grief are such a confusing trio. Everything I seem to feel has no words at all. Brendan has been one of the greatest teachers of my life. I wish I didn't have to lose him to realize that.
I've attached an interesting post that I found on a grief webpage.
I love you,
Wendy
Dianne Gray
February 25 at 1:17 AM
Today is “that day,” — the one which took the life of my 14 year old son. Like most years, I sought peace by the water as the day approached, yet this anniversary year has extra meaning. It is the year that he has been dead longer than he was alive and for whatever reason, that is important...really important.
So what have I learned on this decade plus journey following the death of my child?
I’ve learned to make “nice” with my grief. It is my friend because it is rooted in my love for my son.
I’ve also learned that others may see it as a sign of distress but in truth, I now see grief as a sign of my love so it no longer disturbs me. It is as natural as the sun rising, and I’ve come to learn that the pain of the moment will subside, much as the sun sets on any given day... So even if it is uncomfortable for you to bear witness to, my grief is nothing to fear.
I’ve learned, too, that Austin’s life and subsequent death taught me and others about profound, unconditional love. Because of this journey, I allow love to flow through my heart and life, as grains of sand gently glide through my fingertips. Why? Because one cannot own love, not even the love of one’s own child, so to pretend that I own a soul, even in a body I helped to create, is not using the vision of Love that God has made available to each of us. This has impacted my personal relationships by making some sweeter, richer, and more meaningful while sending others out to sea. I’m okay with that.
Second to last, I’ve also learned that words matter....a lot ... and I simply cannot imagine living in a world where I couch my words to not include death because it is simply as much a part of life, as birth. So no, I did not lose my son. He died and today is a very special day. It is the day of his re-birth— which leads me to close with this:
I have come to believe that death is simply a shedding of one’s physical being and that the soul continues onward toward magnificence and Light, so it truly is nothing to fear. As such today is Austin’s re-birthing day. He is re-birthed in Heaven, where is he at peace and one with the One.
So Happy Re-birthing Day, sweet son. Thank you to you for all you taught me and so many others. We sure had quite the ride.💜
I just wanted to email you to tell you I think about you everyday and I'm grateful that you are in my life.
I had a difficult Sunday. Something just gripped me. I don't know how to explain it other than to say it was a body memory. It's like my 5 senses remembered Brendan all at once and I was aware of how very attached I was to him when he was in the physical body. I dreamt a lot about him last night but I don't remember the dreams. I'm not sure this will make sense but I do feel him in my heart. I keep wanting to find him "out there", by that I mean his spirit somewhere beyond our earth. However, I mostly feel at one with him in my heart region. I don't know what that means. I'd rather have him in the physical realm and in my heart at the same time. But now I have no choice but to continue a different relationship with him. The Grief Movement calls it "Continual Bonds".
I still hug his pillow and Trader Joe's shirt as the pillow case. After two years .I've still never washed it. I hug the pillow as I'm going to sleep and just continually whisper, "I love you Brendan, I love you. I miss you Brendan." over and over again. Sometimes I find myself just wanting to be alone in my cozy studio for hours and days so I can be alone with my thoughts of Brendan. I went into my closet where I keep my favorite items of Brendan's. The carhart jeans I bought him. The trademark t-shirts he's worn in photographs. I still have his patchouli oil that I smell every once in awhile. Although it doesn't smell exactly like Brendan. It smelled much better on Brendan's skin. Occasionally I open his breath mint tin that he used to keep crazy glue and floss in next to the mints. Kind of funny! But he always had it on him and it's so strange that it is on the Ancestral Altar instead of in his pocket. I go through his backpack to look at his belt, his chain wallet and other eccentricities that was a trademark of our Brendan.
The lock of his hair. How I loved the curls that he hated. When I go on my usual walks and hikes in the forest or beach I find a shell or feather and I bring it back and put it on the ancestral altar. Like you, I ask him to go with me for nature hikes and he sometimes leads me to interesting places that I wouldn't think of going.
Life, Death and Grief are such a confusing trio. Everything I seem to feel has no words at all. Brendan has been one of the greatest teachers of my life. I wish I didn't have to lose him to realize that.
I've attached an interesting post that I found on a grief webpage.
I love you,
Wendy
Dianne Gray
February 25 at 1:17 AM
Today is “that day,” — the one which took the life of my 14 year old son. Like most years, I sought peace by the water as the day approached, yet this anniversary year has extra meaning. It is the year that he has been dead longer than he was alive and for whatever reason, that is important...really important.
So what have I learned on this decade plus journey following the death of my child?
I’ve learned to make “nice” with my grief. It is my friend because it is rooted in my love for my son.
I’ve also learned that others may see it as a sign of distress but in truth, I now see grief as a sign of my love so it no longer disturbs me. It is as natural as the sun rising, and I’ve come to learn that the pain of the moment will subside, much as the sun sets on any given day... So even if it is uncomfortable for you to bear witness to, my grief is nothing to fear.
I’ve learned, too, that Austin’s life and subsequent death taught me and others about profound, unconditional love. Because of this journey, I allow love to flow through my heart and life, as grains of sand gently glide through my fingertips. Why? Because one cannot own love, not even the love of one’s own child, so to pretend that I own a soul, even in a body I helped to create, is not using the vision of Love that God has made available to each of us. This has impacted my personal relationships by making some sweeter, richer, and more meaningful while sending others out to sea. I’m okay with that.
Second to last, I’ve also learned that words matter....a lot ... and I simply cannot imagine living in a world where I couch my words to not include death because it is simply as much a part of life, as birth. So no, I did not lose my son. He died and today is a very special day. It is the day of his re-birth— which leads me to close with this:
I have come to believe that death is simply a shedding of one’s physical being and that the soul continues onward toward magnificence and Light, so it truly is nothing to fear. As such today is Austin’s re-birthing day. He is re-birthed in Heaven, where is he at peace and one with the One.
So Happy Re-birthing Day, sweet son. Thank you to you for all you taught me and so many others. We sure had quite the ride.💜
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