When the grieving and healing isn’t your own

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Healing one’s self is an arduous, often long journey.  Staying vulnerable, true to yourself, and honest as can be with others about what you need takes constant attention.  Trusting that all will someday to well and whole again is not always an easy task. There are dark parts of the path forward that seem to pop up out of nowhere.  Finding ways to light these dark places and finding the strength to keep stepping forward can cause one to tap into wells of courage and hope that were unknown before the journey began.

But the healing of one’s own self is a thousand times easier than attempting to help another heal their heart.  Helping someone else, especially one’s own child, can be a dark, twisty, unclear path.  There is no road map into another’s journey that can help make it clear what words and deeds could shed a little bit of light on their darkened path.   There is only the hope that one’s presence can in someway provide comfort to them as they chose their own way.

Trusting that all will be well for another, allowing them to travel their own journey in the time that is right for them is vastly more challenging than trusting it for ourselves. I know my own interior workings and am learning to listen deeply to my inner voice that tells me clearly what I need to heal my heart and my life.  I trust that I am on the right path for me. I trust that in this time and in this moment I am growing stronger, wiser, and more whole every single day.  I am also clearly aware that my way forward during this time isn’t the way that others need.  We each have such different needs that allowing each to have their own journey takes openness and trust, and a willingness to not always be the one with the answers.

Watching my kids and other family members travel their own paths of grieving and healing can sometimes tear my heart right out of my chest.  The tears that flow these days are much more often for one of them then for myself.  I often feel helpless and insecure as I walk beside all of them.  There never seem to be adequate enough words to share with them in times of sorrow.

Breathing deeply, holding a hand, listening to the words spoken and the ones unspoken, sharing moments of joy and hope with them, giving a hug, believing deeply in their strength and wisdom, speaking of that strength and wisdom, this is all that I can do most days.

And everyday I wish there was so much more that I could do to help them believe that one day their hearts and minds will heal and they will feel strong and ready for the world again.  I wish that I could infuse them with all of the love, pride, and belief I have in them.   If only they could see themselves the way I see them. Then, they would know that not only can they handle all that life brings to them.  They would know they ARE handling it all.  They would see the light, love, and healing I see shining around and through them.  They would be able to trust that the day will come that joy and happiness will sing throughout them once again.

So in this time, in this moment I cry my tears that are my strength.  I love them as fiercely and as gently as I can.  I allow them to walk their own journeys as I walk mine.  I trust that not only will all be well, but more deeply I trust that ALL IS WELL.  In this time, in this moment I breathe, I love, I hope, I believe.