Life After Loss - The Afterwards

On February 11th, 2018 it was nine years since my husband, Marty, passed away.  I saw a post on Instagram the other day which took my breath away because the words define "the afterwards” of life after loss.

Ode to The Afterwards

"Grief is not a task to finish and move on, but an element of yourself.  An alteration of your being.  A new way seeing.  A new definition of self."

Up until the last year of my husband Marty's life,  I had been working as a businesswoman in the corporate world. Luckily,  the Universe handed me the gift of being downsized from my job just before his celiac disease went into a refractory state.  Marty began wasting away in front of my eyes, and as much as I tried, there was nothing that would or could stop the progress of his disease.

One day Marty told me that he was concerned because he felt that "I (Laurel) had no purpose." When he said that, I got very angry. I left the house,  drove to the beach to be the near the ocean and to calm down.  I breathed in the ocean air, journaled and returned home with a calmer disposition.  I then spoke with Marty and told him, upon reflection, "yes, I do have a purpose, it is to keep you alive!"

At that time, our lives were filled with doctor and emergency room visits, and his multiple hospitalizations.  If you would have asked me before all this started, are you capable of handling such a grueling time,  I would have said,  no - it would overwhelm me!  But,  I did more than I could have imagined as Marty's sole caregiver and now, with hindsight,  I know how precious that time was for both of us.

I could barely breathe from one health crisis to another and was wrapped in fear most of that time. Although I was held together with "spit and glue,”  somewhere inside of me was the spirit of a warrior who was in a life and death battle to save Marty. 

Finally, my doctor said that it was time to bring in hospice. In those last two weeks of Marty's life,  I wearily put down my warrior's shield and turned it over to the angelic hospice staff who entered our home.  I was no longer alone and gratefully received the loving care hospice gave to both of us.

On February 11th, 2009 (eight days from our 42nd anniversary,) Marty passed away.   After he took his last breath, and I felt his heart stop beating, the fear that had filled my body was released like a pressure cooker.  Sitting down on the side of the bed,  I felt empty, drained, filled with sadness and grief.

The uncertainty of what was to come was a blur and, truthfully,  I didn't care.  I was numb - it was one day at at time, one foot in front of the other.  Repeat, do it again and then repeat once more.

The Afterwards ..."A new way seeing.  A new definition of self."

I have struggled over the past nine years to describe the "alteration of my being"  I experienced after Marty’s death. Little did I know that there was an unknown roadmap ahead which would lead me to become the woman I am today!

Grief’s Cloak

I took off grief’s cloak so that its heaviness would be removed.

I needed to lift this shroud of pain and sadness

in order to find out where and who I was without you.

Little by little, the light within me was rekindled.

With a newfound sense of freedom, I grew wings,

felt myself flying, raised up ~ joyous!

Grief’s cloak vanished as I flew.

Riding the waves of life’s currents, I found myself able to soar

without fear or sorrow coursing through my veins.

Experiencing things long postponed, rediscovering life’s possibilities ~

my spirit overflowed with a rainbow of imaginings.

But wait! Was I also trying to outrun grief? No hide and seek here,

it was up ahead ~ my mourning was not complete.

Grief’s cloak is a harsh reminder that loss is real ~

it cannot be pushed away!

And, if not accepted, even honored,

it will clip my wings and leave me unable to fly.

With this in mind, I have learned to say

“Welcome back Grief ~ I acknowledge your presence!”

In death there are no real endings.

The story of us is woven into the fabric of my wings,

and you are forever in my heart!

Remaining connected, even though we are in different forms and space.

You ahead of me, lighting the way ~ the wind upon which I soar,

the sunlit clouds upon which I perch.

Your spirit gently guides me and also reminds me that

it is now time to chart my own course.

Laurel D. Rund ~ 2009

After several months of bereavement counseling, I learned more about the grieving process. A gateway opened which led me to chart a new course.   Something within me began to awaken - my metamorphosis had begun.  A rekindled spiritual being within me said, "Hello ... welcome to your light, come home to your heart."   "Why not?" I said to myself,  "what do you have to lose, the worst has happened!" Fear was no longer in charge, my soul was!

As I stumbled through the door of life without Marty, it took me on a path which introduced me to the healing arts and my inner voice.  I began writing and journaling  as a way to express my grief, confusion and sadness.   My book of poetry and art, Emerging Voices Living On: A Journey Through Loss to Renewal, comes from that first year after the loss of my husband.

New friendships were formed, I was open to trying out the arts, dancing, dating and just being me.  Interestingly enough, several of our couple friends fell off the radar screen. I hear that this happens to others when they have lost their spouse.  Some people come into your life for a season and then they leave.  This was a hard lesson to learn during such a sad time in my life, but I continued on my wondrous journey - learning to trust the Universe.

And, most unexpectedly, several years later, I met a wonderful man and slowly fell in love.  Having an appreciation for and honoring the the individual journey we each experienced before we met, what shaped our lives, is what makes us fit so well together.   My husband of today, Phil, is not at all threatened by the love I had and still have for Marty. He loves and appreciates my first marriage, as I do his.

Funny thing...I had adamantly declared that I would never remarry after Marty died.  I used to say, “What would be the reason to do that?” and yet I took a leap of faith and did it anyway!   Why?   I chose to make a commitment to a beautiful soul, a man who knows the I Am of today.  Our hearts were meant to be shared -it was bashert (written in the stars.)

In Japan, broken objects are often repaired with gold. The flaw is seen as a unique piece of the object's history, which adds to its beauty.   Please consider this when you feel broken or flawed, you are a beloved being.

The essence of who I am has always been there.  The gift is that my essence is alive and flourishing today - I am a woman whose journey has created a unique and special human being.  Laurel

Return to the Essence of Laurel website

Woman in the Wind – It is written in stone! by Laurel D. Rund

In my 7th decade on this earth, I can't help but muse about my years on this earth, what I've experienced, how I handled myself, and what I have learned.  As long as I am breathing ... I am learning.   “Aging is not lost youth but a new stage of opportunity and strength.” Betty Friedan

Funny how quickly time flies by as one ages.  When we're young, we are always thinking ahead - planning, dreaming, wishing away time.   Then, one day you are actually "old" - not of heart, but of age.  

My attitude about it all is an 'inside job,'   The difference now is that I understand each day is a gift, each person I love is a gift, my friendships are gifts, and life is a gift to be treasured. 

Live in the moment! - Laurel 

Woman in the Wind by Laurel D. Rund

Woman in the Wind – It is written in stone!

It is written in stone that I will encounter
storms and rainbows during this journey called Life.

Breathing in new thoughts and perspectives,
I eagerly discover more about the spirit within me.
And bless the earthly form I was born into decades ago.

Time has gifted me with many challenging and exquisite moments
which have been woven into my Being.

I honor and embrace that which is sacred
And am grateful for the eternal spirit that is my Essence.
Yes … I Am the Woman in the Wind!

Laurel D. Rund 7/2016

The Beauty of Aging 

"We tend to associate youth with beauty, but the truth is that beauty transcends every age. Just as a deciduous tree is stunning in all its stages-from its full leafy green in the summer to its naked skeleton during winter and everything in between-human beings are beautiful throughout their life spans. 

The early years of our lives tend to be about learning and experiencing as much as we possibly can. We move through the world like sponges, absorbing the ideas of other people and the world. Like a tree in spring, we are waking up to the world. In this youthful phase of life, our physical strength, youth, and beauty help open doors and attract attention.

Gradually, we begin to use the information we have gathered to form ideas and opinions of our own. As we cultivate our philosophy about life, our beauty becomes as much about what we are saying, doing, and creating as it is about our appearance. Like a tree in summer, we become full, expressive, beautiful, and productive.

When the time comes for us to let go of the creations of our middle lives, we are like a tree in autumn dropping leaves, as we release our past attachments and preparing for a new phase of growth. The children move on, and careers shift or end. The lines on our faces, the stretch marks, and the grey hairs are beautiful testaments to the fullness of our experience. In the winter of our lives, we become stripped down to our essence like a tree. We may become more radiant than ever at this stage, because our inner light shines brighter through our eyes as time passes. 

Beauty at this age comes from the very core of our being-our essence. This essence is a reminder that there is nothing to fear in growing older and that there is a kind of beauty that comes only after one has spent many years on earth." DailyOM

Return to the Essence of Laurel website

Laurel’s Kitchen by Laurel D. Rund

Sometimes it’s fun and intriguing to bring back an oldie but goodie. The  poem and artwork titled Laurel’s Kitchen is in my book Emerging Voices-Living On.

It surfaced and peeked its head out today and said – “remember me”?   The words and art are as important to me now as they were when created.   Please enjoy this old and proven recipe!

When we learn to pay attention to our inner compass,

we follow a map that only we can see, our own path.

Return to the Essence of Laurel website

Why handwrite a note of thanks or gratitude? Laurel D. Rund

Today, a note penned by hand is making a resurgence. It is one of the things considered to be tangible, beautiful and valued.  When you give the gift of handwritten words that say thank you and/or I am grateful to another human being, it is an act of grace – a touch point

People want to be appreciated. When you take the time to choose a special Art from the Heart card, handwrite a note of thanks and gratitude, and then place the ‘elusive’ stamp on the envelope, address and mail it … that gesture will make a lasting impression on the recipient.

Many treasured pieces of Pony Express mail have become family heirlooms, or are on display in museums as reminders of a time gone by … they are keepsakes!  Can you imagine what it felt like in the 1800’s when men riding horses carrying saddlebags of mail across a 2000-mile trail delivered letters or notes to family, friends and business acquaintances?

In the cyberspace world of today, we connect with each other through email, text or through social media … Facebook, Linked-In, Pinterest, Twitter, et al.  The messages between us flash by in a nano-second and disappear just as quickly.  Do you want your message of thanks or appreciation to end up in an electronic trash or junk file?   Wasn’t your intent to leave a “lasting” impression with your words?

It is rare to receive or send out something that has been handwritten.  Your Art from the Heart notecard will get attention from the moment the recipient sees the envelope, interspersed among the pile of bills and junk mail they receive, until the time they open it.  And, if you’ve chosen carefully and found something which has a beautiful image,  it more than likely will be placed on display on a shelf, refrigerator door or tabletop.

Just think about this …   isn’t there something about a handwritten card that stops time for a moment and  makes you want to hang on to it?  Hand-penned cards have become a valued gift and are making a comeback!

That’s why you should take the time to handwrite a note of thanks or gratitude to family, friends, loved ones, clients or potential clients.  It will be the gift that keeps on giving.

  

Just do it!

This Puzzle Called Life by Laurel D. Rund

In 2010, my life felt like an overwhelming 1000-piece puzzle scattered on a table.  It was a transformative time – as I moved through grief into an appreciation for my newly reshaped life and spirit. I was slowly putting the pieces together from the outside to the inside.

For me, it was about letting go of fear and finding my creative voice.   After completing the artwork below, I sat down and wrote an accompanying poem “This Puzzle Called Life.”

  

Both pieces are included in my book Emerging Voices Living On: A Journey Through Loss to Renewal.  The poem still inspires me today.   “LDR” equals Laurel Diane Rund saying “YES” to life!  That’s my Essence talking about the here and now.

The story of my life is ever-unfolding. At times it may feel like a drama, comedy, romance, or tragedy. Regardless of the genre of my current situation, I acknowledge that I am the author of my life story. If I find myself reliving the same narrative again and again, I can choose to make edits in the plot line just by moving the puzzle pieces around.

This Puzzle Called Life

Pieced together throughout the years,

the outside border of this puzzle called “life”

presents itself as my human form.

 It is like a comfy pair of shoes, a good fit,

easy to wear and visible for all to see.

Ah, but my inside puzzle pieces are

much more complex and hidden from view.

They are a reflection of my spirit, my soul!

Finally, finally ~ I understand that these pieces

ought not be rigid or unyielding.

They need to be sturdy, pliable and unrestrained

 because life is ever changing and

I am always learning .

In the past, I was intimidated by puzzles,

put off by the frustration of not being able

to see how everything fits together.

Today, as I move my life’s puzzle pieces around, 

and new shapes take form,  I am filled

with curiosity and optimism.

These colorful images are a kaleidoscope

which reveal my intent, my purpose

and the gifts within me!

© 2010 Laurel D. Rund

Laurel reading the poem 

'This Puzzle Called Life'

Essence of Laurel

The Soul Never Thinks Without a Picture by Laurel D. Rund

Whether it be naming a new piece of art, or finding a quote to go with it – the pairing of words and images energizes my spirit.

During this season of my life, art and words have led me to my purpose - which is to inspire and offer hope to others.

Art from the Heart is bestowed by life and embroidered by imagination and is another way, for me, to tell a story.  As Aristotle said "The Soul Never Thinks Without a Picture."  

"Ever since our ancestors could first communicate, we have gathered to share our stories. We have passed along creation tales and tragic stories of love lost. We have repeated accounts of real heroism and simple stories of family history. 

When our forebears lived closer to the land and to each other, the practice of storytelling was imbued with ritual and occasion. Members of the tribe would often gather around the fire to hear their genealogy recited aloud by an elder or master storyteller. Listeners could track how their own lives, and the lives of their parents, interwove with the lives of the other tribe members, as everyone's ancient relatives once played out similar life dramas together.

When we hear others tell stories, we can laugh at their humorous adventures, feel the thrill of exciting encounters, see parts of ourselves in them, and learn from the challenges they face. Though most of our formal traditions of storytelling are lost, it does not mean we have to be without. 

We can begin new practices in our own families of listening to one another, of honoring our own journey, and witnessing the journeys of those around us. We can revive the fireside communal by gathering around the campfire or hearth with family and friends, sharing in stories. By building new practices of storytelling, we give ourselves and the ones we love an opportunity to draw ever closer in our shared human experience." DailyOM