"Grief happens upon you"

"Grief… happens upon you, it’s bigger than you. There is a humility that you have to step into, where you surrender to being moved through the landscape of grief by grief itself. And it has its own time-frame, it has its own itinerary with you, it has its own power over you, and it will come when it comes. And when it comes, it’s a bow-down. It’s a carve-out. And it comes when it wants to, and it carves you out — in the middle of the night, in the middle of the day, in the middle of a meeting, in the middle of a meal. It arrives — it’s this tremendously forceful arrival and it cannot be resisted without you suffering more… The posture that you take is you hit your knees in absolute humility and you let it rock you until it is done with you. And it will be done with you, eventually. And when it is done, it will leave. But to stiffen, to resist, and to fight it is to hurt yourself."

- Elizabeth GIlbert

"A Garden Beyond Paradise" by Jalaluddin Rumi

A Garden Beyond Paradise

Jalaluddin Rumi


Everything you see has its roots
in the Unseen world.
The forms may change,
yet the essence remains the same.

Every wondrous sight will vanish,
Every sweet word will fade.
But do not be disheartened,
The Source they come from is eternal –
Growing, branching out,
giving new life and new joy.

Why do you weep? –
That Source is within you,
And this whole world
is springing up from it.

The Source is full,
Its waters are ever-flowing;
Do not grieve,
drink your fill!
Don’t think it will ever run dry –
This is the endless Ocean!

From the moment you came into this world
A ladder was placed in front of you
that you might escape.
From earth you became plant,
From plant you became animal.
Afterwards you became a human being,
Endowed with knowledge, intellect, and faith.

Behold the body, born of dust –
how perfect it has become!

Why should you fear its end?
When were you ever made less by dying?

When you pass beyond this human form,
No doubt you will become an angel
And soar through the heavens!

But don’t stop there.
Even heavenly bodies grow old.

Pass again from the heavenly realm
and plunge into the vast ocean of Consciousness.
Let the drop of water that is you
become a hundred mighty seas.

But do not think that the drop alone
Becomes the Ocean –
the Ocean, too, becomes the drop!

From the Article: We Need To Talk About Death

From the Guardian: April 2019 by Vanessa Billy

We need to talk about death: I was not prepared for how lonely grief would be

Six months ago, on 9 October 2018, it was a beautiful and unusually warm day in my native city of Paris. There, in the leafy surroundings of a palliative care center, my father took his last breath.

I was there with my husband. Our three year old, playing in the room next door, was blissfully unaware of what was happening. We had been in France for five weeks and had spent a lot of time with my father. I remember thinking “this is hard, but I am strong, I’ve got this”. I helped organize his funeral, stayed with my mum a few weeks after he passed away and then flew home to Sydney.

The first days back in Australia were painful. However, I can’t say that they were the most difficult to get through. I was functioning at a basic level, but functioning nevertheless. People offered condolences and gave me space. My work colleagues were incredibly supportive, providing back-up, patience and flexibility. It was really all I could ask for.


I knew grief was going to be painful. What I didn’t know was how lonely it would make me feel

After a couple of weeks though, life resumed. There were lunchboxes to pack, important deadlines to meet, meetings to attend and parties to go to. Everything happened as if all of a sudden, mourning time was up. Around me, everything was getting back to “normal”, except I wasn’t.

I still had uncontrollable fits of crying or sadness, only met by uncomfortable silence and awkward looks around me. I couldn’t concentrate, could not keep up with the pace of daily life. I was battling night terrors and panic attacks, yet every day I was expected to make rational decisions and plans. Many times, I felt like watching the train I was supposed to be on depart while I stayed stuck on the platform.

I did try to behave according to what I thought was expected of me, back to my “normal” self. I tried socialist but was too hurt to handle simple casual conversations. Increasingly, I started noticing people’s uneasiness if I mentioned how I felt or the memories of my father. I now know that their embarrassment came from not knowing how to react. But at the time it made me feel like I was responsible for not being able to snap back to my old self, for not being able to simply smile at the good memories.

On top of feeling heartbroken, I felt guilty and inadequate.

I became irritable – no, not irritable; I turned into a dragon. Commuting would trigger an explosion of angry tears every morning. Picking up my daughter’s clothes for the day turned into a stressful ordeal. Everything hurt. What people said, what they didn’t say. Three notes of music, a particular song, an administrative issue, practically anything would make me scared or angry or frustrated.

Sometimes even the rays of sunshine on a beautiful day would tear me apart. How could the day be so beautiful when I was in pieces inside? I had to do something, I didn’t want my daughter to come home to an angry mother every day. My father would really not have tolerated that.

After a couple of months, I started to see a grief counselor. This decision gave me my life back. The counselor simply provided me with the space I needed to grieve. We spoke about my dad, about his last days, I cried a lot. Simply talking about it with someone who told me all this was normal gave me immense relief. Within a few weeks, the wall I had built around my emotions collapsed, and the anger vanished. I still ache, I’m still sad, but I know I’m going to be OK. After a bad day a better one will come.

I knew grief was going to be painful. What I didn’t know was how lonely it would make me feel.

Our society does not cope with the idea of death. We fear it, and because we fear it, we ignore it. We refuse to consider death and illness as a part of life. We irrationally believe that it won’t happen to us or our loved ones. This makes us totally ill-equipped to deal with it when it does happen and to relate to people who have experienced it.

No one can entirely relate to the sadness and the ache caused by the loss of a loved one. They are lonely experiences. But the pain should not be compounded by society’s inability to deal with someone’s mourning. Most of us will acknowledge that mourning is a process which takes time. But few are actually ready to accept the responsibility that comes with it: people will not simply “get over it” with time, the experience of loss will change them deeply and forever.

As a society we have a responsibility to acknowledge the pain and help people adjust into society with their grief. We need to accept that it won’t always be that hard, yet it will never be the same.

Dark, awkward, depressing, sad, painful and uncomfortable; grief is all this. It is not something we want to think about. It is not something we wish on anyone. But it is something that will happen to all of us. We need to be here for each other when it does. And for this, we need to be prepared to deal with the bad and the ugly. We need to talk about death.

Your Death Seems Like Yesterday

"Grief is just impossible to summarize" by Beanie Feldstein

It is impossible. Grief is just impossible. It cannot be contained or summarized or enclosed. To describe the wound grief leaves if you have not experienced it is to come to it hazy and out of focus. But then there are those of us that unfortunately see grief in sharp, unrelenting focus.


About a year ago, Jordan Feldstein passed very suddenly and unexpectedly. He was a remarkably generous, intelligent, loving person. He was an incredible father, beloved by his boys. He was a deeply devoted son. He was a brilliant creative mind. And he was my biggest brother. He gave me so many things, including my name. In this past year, I have learned an immeasurable amount about the bandwidth of my own heart. The pain is so unbearable at times, so unremitting. Yet, in addition to the deluge of feelings leaking out of me at all times, I have found the process of grief (because it is and will always be a process, never finished, never concluded) to be just as resonant in my mind as it is in my heart.


It’s like all of a sudden, a pair of glasses were strapped to my face. And I can’t take them off. Ever. And these glasses make me see the world differently than I did before. The colors bleed together more vividly. But they are somehow more than they ever were before. More visceral. More vibrant. More present. Simultaneously more awe inspiring and more aching. Sometimes I can push the glasses to the end of my nose so I can peer over them to see the world the way I used to see. But I can only see over or around to my old perspective. I can never see it totally as it was ever again.


That is the aspect of grief I had no idea was coming. This monumental shift in perspective. Not only does the world become so much deeper and more painful, but sometimes unbelievably alive with joy and gratitude. And those two previously opposing concepts are now merged, now barely distinguishable. There is a whole new layer of my own personhood, but also a broadened humanity, that I could not see before. These glasses that were forced on me, grudgingly gave me the ability to see and appreciate a more intricate understanding of this vast world we live in.


And when you find others that have experienced this shift, others that wear the same prescription, there is an instant bond. There is this profound feeling of connection, not only because you both have experienced that pain, but because you also see the rest of life differently than everyone else. It is not only an acknowledgement of shared emotion, but a recognition of shared lived perspective.


Oh what I would give to never have had this shift happen. What I would give to take the grief glasses off of loved ones, coworkers, acquaintances, strangers. But I cannot. All I can do is try to positively acknowledge the aspects of the grief glasses that lead to feeling real love, happiness, and gratitude more presently and more fully. The part of the shift in perspective that leads you to be immensely thankful for what you do have.


A year ago, I found myself unwillingly in a new club. Well, new to me. A club that has existed for all eternity. A club that I wish did not exist. A club that every time people who are not in it don’t help me feel better, I feel grateful that the world hasn’t hurt them. It is a club full of suffering and questioning, but is also a community of people that have a truly broadened perspective on the human experience. And if you are also in the club, please know you are not alone, because I am also a begrudging member. And while I wish I could rip my grief glasses off my face and have it all be a dream, I try to recognize what the glasses have given me: that unique blend of humanity that is simultaneously the darkest dark and the brightest bright.


By Beanie Feldstein

Donor Family Ceremony

Letter From Sigmund Freud About Grief

Library Book Title Messages........

My Heartbreak Continues AND dozens of words explain my love for Brendan

The heartbreak continues.....

March 31st a year ago we had a tribute party at the Poet & Patriot for Brendan.  It doesn't feel like a year to me.  I still miss Brendan so much.  Just as much as ever, the grief is still grief but transforms throughout the weeks and months into a different aspect of grief process.

 I was thinking about the pain in my heart today.  If I had to describe it to someone:  It's an extraordinary painful yearning to be with Brendan.  It's almost as if my heart is trying to reach out of my chest into the heavens and find him.

I continue to wake up during the night calling to him, "Brendan, Brendan....".  I know I won't hear his voice but I'm trying to summon him to me.  To see if I can still feel him.  His death still seems so unreal.

This was a difficult week for me. The feelings of Existential Despair are the worst kind of suffering! I'd rather be in physical pain than this kind of emotional pain.  Emotional pain affects me physically anyway and now I can understand how people can die from a broken heart.  Especially the elderly who are already fragile and lose a significant partner.

Oh how I judge my own grieving. I notice that my thoughts keep trying to justify my grieving. And my thoughts try different ways to squirm out of the feelings.

I took some of Brendan's ashes to the wharf and sprinkled a pinch where the sea lions like to swim and lounge. Saturday I explored Waddell Creek Beach and Davenport cliffs and also distributed some of his ashes. And then today at Hakone Gardens under the cherry blossom trees.

What do I miss about Brendan?  His sweetness. He had such a sweetness about him.  Even though he acted tough and cursed like a sailor, he was a gentle soul.  Brendan had a flavor.  A flavorful quality? I don't think I've ever described anyone like that before.  I'm not sure if everyone even has a flavorful quality.   Brendan was unique. He was a bunch of different spices and herbs.  These "spices" wouldn't normally go together. They would be described as diametrically opposed.

The best food, the greatest Chefs of 5 star restaurants, are expert at putting contrasting flavors together. And creating ecstasy through one's taste buds. And that's exactly what Brendan is: contrasting flavors.  Brendan's soul enhanced my soul.  And that's what I miss so much.  Everything is bland now. He was the accent of my life, the spice of my life.

I know his personality was immensely difficult.  Brendan was definitely One of the most difficult people I've ever loved.  I still imagine that he is sleeping and I am next to him caressing his hair and kissing him and I keep saying, "Everything is going to be alright, everything is going to be alright."  As if I need to comfort him so he won't worry.

I find myself wandering around in his home (in my mind/imagination). I wander in the cabin (which is what he called the bedroom), I wander around the TV area. I even wander in the bathroom. I go outside into his garden. And I'm there all over again. And the Whoo is there just sitting on the table staring at him. And Brendan is staring up at the TV screen. And I'm watching Brendan watching the TV. Sometimes I just liked to look at him without him knowing I was looking at him. I was endlessly intrigued by him.  The explanation I have for it seems wordless, beyond words.  I don't think I could string the right words together to explain it to anyone.

Okay, I've looked up the word 'captivate', 'captivated'.  Because I was captivated by Brendan. I love the synonyms for captivate. I know they all mean the same thing but I like to read the words and say the words, because even though they have the same definition, they sound different.  And every sound of each word explains individual feelings I have for Brendan in just a slightly different way.  Which is very satisfying.

Yes! Every word here describes my feelings and emotions for Brendan. I need to say it in a hundred different ways and that isn't even enough. Just now I had this crazy thought. I am in purgatory!!---because I can't be united with Brendan. I can only continuously think about him and talk to him out loud and yearn endlessly for him.. In this purgatory I am reading out of an enormous book of my thoughts and emotions, and I'm just reading these words out loud.  This book is full of words that describe my love for Brendan in slightly different ways. These words go on into eternity...there is no end to it. And the purgatory element of the experience is that I will never complete reciting the words from the massive book.

More words related to captivate:
attract, enchant
allure
beguile
bewitch
charm
dazzle
delight
draw
enamour
enrapture
entertain
enthrall
fascinate
gratify
hypnotize
infatuate
intrigue
lure
magnetize
mesmerize
please
seduce
spellbind
sweep off one's feet

Donor Network Ceremony: Anticipation

Brendan was an organ donor. 3 women were saved after they inherited Brendan's liver and kidneys. The woman who received the liver transplant only had 48 hours to live. The Donor Network told us he has already helped 50 people. His skin for burn patients, heart valves, lung tissue, corneas. 

But that thought of him being dissected for such a gift haunts me too. His skin was my skin, his eyes shared times with me watching British Cooking Shows. Many nights I would lay my head on his chest and listen to his heart beat. The same heart that donated valves to an individual in need. 

The Donor Network is holding a ceremony this Saturday in the Bay Area, California. I am attending. I am so afraid of the pain that this will bring me. I've cried so many tears this year and I know there will be a torrential downpour of tears this Saturday. I plan to wear sunglasses and bring lots of tissues. I'm anxious about the event. I'm happy that Brendan saved lives. But it doesn't reduce the pain of losing him, not even a little.

Nature, Brendan's Magic Dust

I went to Ft Ord National Monument to see wildflowers and sprinkle some of Brendan's ashes

The Caves from a Distance

In front of the cave area. Brendan ashes. 

The cave. I had to climb a steep embankment to reach it. 

As I was taking this photo a bird swooped up to the right. 

I placed some of Brendan's ashes at the Monarch Butterfly Sanctuary in Pacific Grove

The Butterfly House, Pacific Grove

The Butterfly House, Pacific Grove

Put some of Brendan's ashes here. I accidentally found this place while looking for the Monarch Butterfly Sanctuary.

Dear Grief

"Dear grief

Can we talk?
Yes my love, of course
I invite him in like a long awaited friend
I hug him tightly
I sense his scent
I breathe him in
I feel him fill my being
Tears begin to rise in my eyes


Before I know it I am on my knees, crying
I cry so hard it feels as if my heart will shatter into a thousand pieces
Grief holds my hand
Reassures me that everything is okay

He speaks
You sent me an invitation and I came my love
Dance with me
He holds out his hand and pulls me into his arms
I feel his heart beat, pulsating with life
I feel the medicine that flows through his ancient heart

The wisdom runs deep
He has seen it all
Been through it all
Grief has journeyed with endless of beings, through time and space
Knows all of the secrets
He is a dear friend and guide
I trust him deeply

When grief enters your life
See it as a gift
Greet him, welcome him
Boil yourself a cup of tea and invite him in for a chat
He will teach you what you need to know
For he is one of the greatest teachers walking the planet

When grief enters our lives we can feel anguish, despair
Crushed under the foot of pain
We might feel as though we are dying,
That we will never make it through
Rest assured that if you allow for grief to lead
If you listen to his knowing
He will help you through the birthcanal

In the midst of the storm
Grief polishes your heart
Like the sea flowing over the rocks
Gently revealing their brilliance

Let grief guide you, let him have his way with you
Don´t try and suppress him, because if you do, you will damn up
Instead let him flow through you
Like a waterfall washing through, filling you
Cleansing and renewing you

When grief knocks on your door, invite him in,
and let him dance you
through all the chaos, confusion and despair

Take his hand and let him love you
For you can be sure that he has seen this all before."~

~Natvienna Hanell

One is in Waiting.....

“One is in 'Waiting'
Even after it's over
Grief comes to stay
Never up for closure
...
There is no escape ever
One is always yearning
Grief envelops those
Left behind in 'waiting'
...
‘Staying stuck’ in pain
Hiding deep in the heart
'Let go' ! Yes, but how
To make a new start
...
One has to live in the
Dark blind ‘Black-hole’
Until Light would grace
Rekindling a 'Whole”

― Neena Verma

The Definition of Grief

grief, noun 

An assortment of terrible feelings that last a long, long time, including: shock, disbelief, anger, rage, fear, sadness, sickness, and uncontrollable crying to the point of being buckled over in pain with no relief in sight. Having a feeling of emptiness that certainly life will never be the same again. Not being able to concentrate, having other areas of life suffer including massive miscommunications in relationships with spouses, siblings, friends, and coworkers. Life feels like it is falling apart

Sandra Champlain

Dream about Brendan: I'm in His World---White Bird Story

I suddenly find myself a few feet in front of Brendan. I realize I'm in "his" world. 

He sees me (looks like he is in his early 20s, not wearing his glasses). He says, "I'm so 

glad you finally came to visit me!" It's as though he thinks I can visit him but I haven't been doing it?

I seem to be standing on the first of two steps in something that looks like a Greek marbled open 

aired structure. In the dream he says, " look down there, see my house?" (I see a really cool gold 

house....not real big, a little bigger than a hut and square in shape. It's down a hill just a little bit) 

He says, "they gave me that. I don't even have to pay for it! That's where I'm getting my shit together.

" He seems excited that he doesn't have to pay rent for it? (that part makes me start laughing so hard). 

At some point in the dream he says, " look who's here" and I look down and it looks like the Boy

 (Jackson) and he looks quite the magical cat, but I can still see that it is Boy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Suddenly I'm up in the air behind Brendan, who is on the back of a giant white bird (not a dove, 

sort of like an eagle, but only a white color) and he's flying the bird as fast as he can and somehow 

I'm right behind him but I don't how I got there. And then I realize I'm on a giant white bird too! 

Normally, I would be terrified! But I don't feel afraid at all. We're going super fast and I'm just 

cracking up! I'm laughing hysterically, I can tell that Brendan is having such fun.. He's zooming back 

and forth as fast as he can on this bird and somehow, (I don't know how, the bird I'm on is keeping up 

with him?).

The other thing I couldn't understand is why Brendan is in really loose white clothing? I keep wondering

through the dream, "why the heck is Brendan in white of all things?." But then when we're flying on the

birds I look into the sky and there's all these colors like the Northern lights and it reflects perfectly on 

Brendan's white outfit.......Like his white clothing is some kind of white screen where the colors in the 

sky reflect off . So as he's on this giant bird, the colors flashing in the sky keep reflecting on his clothing, 

thus changing the white clothing different colors every second. Definitely psychedelic like our Brendan 

was!!!

Anyway, throughout the dream I'm crying and crying because I never thought I'd see Brendan again. 

And then laughing and laughing hysterically when I'm on the bird. I'm mostly laughing at how funny 

Brendan is. It's like he knows that he can fly on this thing really fast and he'll never get hurt. So he's 

being as risky as he can. He's so happy on that bird!!

I don't know what part of the dream this happens but at some point Brendan says, "I gotta show you my 

house". So I start to try to walk down the stairs to the grassy? slope toward the house and Brendan 

suddenly stops me and he says, "Oh I forgot, you can't come down here. But I'm making something for 

you. Something I should have given you a long time ago. When you come back I'll have it ready."

Throughout the dream I get the sense that he's been wondering why I haven't visited him before. 

(As if I could). He's so happy to see me in the dream and kisses me on the lips. He doesn't seem to 

even notice how I'm crying and crying. I wanted to keep being in that dream but as dreams are.....

I drifted off into something else and couldn't seem to wake myself up so that I could write it down 

before I forgot. As soon as my alarm clock went off I got out my computer and tried to type it up as 

fast as I could.

In the morning I ask Brendan, please show me a sign if this dream is really true?


The next morning
***A FB “friend” whom I’ve never never met and never return texts to sent me a clip of a 

white pigeon stealing some food in a store and another white pigeon standing at the door and 

then they flew off together.


***I was driving up the hill to the University and I kept saying, “Brendan, where are you, 

where are you, where are you? I heard Brendan’s voice say, “I’m right here.” and then this bird
flew right in front of my car, I narrowly missed hitting it.

***Painting of long dark hair young female. In a white garment. The Universe coming out of her
face/head. Holding a white bird.



What Birds Symbolize in Dreams: They are also a sign of peace, freedom, harmony, balance, ideas,
joy and love. Birds can symbolize freedom of thinking, our hopes and fears. They can also symbolize
some situations in our life. ... Sometimes a bird in a dream might be a message from your spirit guide.
Flying birds signify prosperity and abundance.

My email to Corinne:
"You remember my dream of Brendan wearing all white and it became a kind of screen to reflect
all the colors in the sky that we were flying by? I looked up the meaning of seeing the Northern
Lights in a dream....this is an excerpt of something I found online."

Others believed, on the contrary, that the northern lights would wink back if you waved a white
garment at them. The Sami people believed that the northern lights had supernatural power, and
they used symbols from the lights on their shaman drums.

I dream of Brendan's New Garden

Dream of Brendan: March 6

I had another dream of Brendan. I'm not sure why I am having more thorough and awesome dreams about him, but here it is:


Brendan wants to show me his garden out front of his little gold house.  I see that he has all this land that's sloping down very far and then there is a canyon with a river running through it, very far down the mountain. It's like something I've seen in Switzerland. He says, "look at my garden---I'm planting seeds. I'm planting tons of seeds.  They are giving me lots of seeds to plant."

I see a cat sitting on the railing in front of the house. Could this be the Boy?  Then I'm aware of a black and white cat sitting on the porch....like the cat in the painting that Brendan painted while in a Cabrillo Art Class.

Brendan is to the left of the house planting seeds.  He comes back over to me and gives me a plant.  It includes the dirt and roots and he places it proudly in my hands.

He is digging the ground with a shovel?  and then planting seeds. He says, "I've got the the whole hillside to plant  and it can go on forever. I'm making a lot of progress."

For some reason I know that Brendan has more animals in his little gold house.

I look towards the porch. An ostrich comes out on the porch and runs towards Brendan.  My impression was that an ostrich is one of his friendly pets? 

This morning I looked up what dreaming of an ostrich means..........

 Ostrich stands for freedom and independence.

The only images I could find that looks similar to Brendan handing me the plant are these. The bottom plant has the roots included, which I saw in the dream. However, The leaves looked more like the top photo.

On Grief by Michelle Obama

“It hurts to live after someone has died. It just does. It can hurt to walk down a hallway or open the fridge. It hurts to put on a pair of socks, to brush your teeth. Food tastes like nothing. Colors go flat. Music hurts, and so do memories. You look at something you’d otherwise find beautiful—a purple sky at sunset or a playground full of kids—and it only somehow deepens the loss. Grief is so lonely this way.”

Michelle Obama, Becoming

 Saw this on the back of a car. Outside my grief therapist's office.