When you spoke of the vise-like grip on your lungs, my lungs began to ache. I had a similar sensation in the early days after our Sheila died. A grief so all-encompassing it squeezes the chest.
I am so sorry you also had this experience. The pain was so intense that I thought something was wrong with my lungs. Even though I was a physician. People often don't talk about the physical pain of grief.
One of the greatest gifts hidden inside the unlikely and wholly unexpected package of life experiences the likes of this is how powerful it is to hold the hand of another. And to have one’s hand held...
Your friends with you, you with your husband and your children, you with every patient that has ever graced the doors of your clinic, etc, etc.
When others pity, when we self-pity, we are just missing the courage for the moment to more deeply accept Life and its often well-disguised gifts on its own terms. And to hold each other in it.
The longer I live the more convinced I become that it’s the whole reason we’re here.
Here’s holding your hand, Kristina, in faith we can do this, whatever it will be.
Thank you, Mary Lynn. You certainly know how to find the courage to accept Life -- on its terms -- and find the sacred in the every day. One day, I would love to meet you!
Outstanding thoughts, Kristina. Me, I’m the strong, silent type… and that was true until I was on my back in a hospital with tubes and wires and an unhopeful diagnosis. The prayers and support of friends suddenly became critically important. Thanks for expressing this.
Yes, we are all different. I am so glad that you experienced the prayers, love, and support from your healing family. They certainly made a difference.
Thank you, Liz! It's funny how grief can make one feel completely alone - even though there is a support network around one. It is an incredibly isolating experience.
"Just be there". You've absolutely nailed it on the head with this statement! Supporting someone who’s going through a difficult time isn’t about saying something specific or big grand gestures. It’s about simply being there for them. Showing up and meeting them where they’re at. Thank you for sharing 🙏🏼❤️
Isn't it strange how loved ones around us struggle with what to do to support when all we want in the main is to just be there, listen to our fears, make us a cup of tea and to give us whatever strength they can! I had so many family and friends around me that feared just asking me if I was 'OK' after I got diagnosed, and this made it an unspeakable subject when all I wanted was for them to be comfortable around me during that time.
Amen. Just be there. Words aren’t always necessary. Just be there! 🤗
Exactly right. You know just how to do this.
Thank you for sharing. Always available for you with an ear and a hug. Much love 🥰
Love you, Debbie! Thank you for always being supportive!
When you spoke of the vise-like grip on your lungs, my lungs began to ache. I had a similar sensation in the early days after our Sheila died. A grief so all-encompassing it squeezes the chest.
Beautifully expressed and oh so sad. 💔
I am so sorry you also had this experience. The pain was so intense that I thought something was wrong with my lungs. Even though I was a physician. People often don't talk about the physical pain of grief.
Beautifully written and so touching. So real.
One of the greatest gifts hidden inside the unlikely and wholly unexpected package of life experiences the likes of this is how powerful it is to hold the hand of another. And to have one’s hand held...
Your friends with you, you with your husband and your children, you with every patient that has ever graced the doors of your clinic, etc, etc.
When others pity, when we self-pity, we are just missing the courage for the moment to more deeply accept Life and its often well-disguised gifts on its own terms. And to hold each other in it.
The longer I live the more convinced I become that it’s the whole reason we’re here.
Here’s holding your hand, Kristina, in faith we can do this, whatever it will be.
Thank you, Mary Lynn. You certainly know how to find the courage to accept Life -- on its terms -- and find the sacred in the every day. One day, I would love to meet you!
Outstanding thoughts, Kristina. Me, I’m the strong, silent type… and that was true until I was on my back in a hospital with tubes and wires and an unhopeful diagnosis. The prayers and support of friends suddenly became critically important. Thanks for expressing this.
Yes, we are all different. I am so glad that you experienced the prayers, love, and support from your healing family. They certainly made a difference.
I'm glad they were there for you...ARE there for you.
Thank you, Liz! It's funny how grief can make one feel completely alone - even though there is a support network around one. It is an incredibly isolating experience.
HUGS. Walking alongside you - Towel (for the rain) or tissues ready.
I understand what you mean about the sympathy...or for me it was/is the pity-looks that 'cringe-me.'
It's good to hear you have IRL community support and people who listen and ask (don't tell or push) —empathetic, active listening. Phew.
Thanks for reading. The pity looks are terrible.
Being ‘witnessed’ I think is so incredibly helpful I think, at least it has been to me; we are in a similar situation.
To feel ‘seen, heard, and understood’ and therefore somehow feel less alone and isolated in your grief and inability to feel grounded.
The least helpful thing has been unsolicited advise.
"Just be there". You've absolutely nailed it on the head with this statement! Supporting someone who’s going through a difficult time isn’t about saying something specific or big grand gestures. It’s about simply being there for them. Showing up and meeting them where they’re at. Thank you for sharing 🙏🏼❤️
Isn't it strange how loved ones around us struggle with what to do to support when all we want in the main is to just be there, listen to our fears, make us a cup of tea and to give us whatever strength they can! I had so many family and friends around me that feared just asking me if I was 'OK' after I got diagnosed, and this made it an unspeakable subject when all I wanted was for them to be comfortable around me during that time.