My heart sank when I first read the news of the Virginia Tech incident.
When events like this happen I immediately think of the ripple effect of the primary event. In this case, the gunman took the lives of innocent students sitting in their dorm or their class rooms.
Certainly those students lives are irrevocably changed...those who died definitely, but even those who were injured and will have to live on with the memory of what they witnessed.
Something struck me when John and Elizabeth Edwards announced her the recurrence of her cancer.
At first I was concerned that they were in complete denial...who could imagine just carrying on after receiving news of the progression of her cancer. What were they thinking? Certainly the pundits had a field day with this question as well.
But then I saw them interviewed - on a couple of different news shows.
With their new Journeys line, Hallmark have just expanded their card sentiments beyond the usual Happy Birthday, Happy Anniversary, Love, Friendship, Get Well, Sympathy, Thank You, and Congratulations. Now Hallmark offers cards for a wide variety of transitions...
How times have changed in the last 16 years! In 1991 when I started my business, most people had no idea what I meant when I said I supported clients in transition. In that era, the word transition brought to mind someone passing away or going through menopause. Furthermore, the definition in the dictionary didn't help. It noted that a transition was a noun...but not a verb. So the dictionary recognized that transitions exist, but there were no words to describe that we moved through transitions or how we did it.
When we don't have words to describe what we are going through, we wonder whether what we are going through is real. We question ourselves. We downplay our experience. We try to rationalize away what we are feeling.
By creating a series of cards that give people the words to acknowledge what others are experiencing during times of change, Hallmark is giving a new sense of credibility to life transitions.
In the Journeys line, you can now find supportive cards for people who are experiencing a wide range of transitions.
My Sunday paper told me the news.
The columnist I'd read with anticipation each and every Sunday for years had passed away at age 79.
I knew him as L.M. Boyd, the author of the Grab Bag column in the San Francisco Chronicle. It turns out his column was syndicated in 400 papers under different titles...Checking Up, Draw Up a Chair, Fact or Fancy.
No matter what the title, each column held a random collection of facts about nature, people, the earth, space, love, war, and everything else under the sun. I, of course, loved the nature bits. In fact my 'nature' folder is full of Grab Bags I pulled out of the paper over the years. In a series of one or two sentence entries he could share an amazing amount of information with a bit of humor woven throughout.
Boyd retired in 2000, so I won't miss his column...I finally stopped looking for it in the Sunday paper. What I will miss is knowing he is out there somewhere seeing life through his magical kaleidoscope filter that showcased so many wonderful elements of our world since the 60's.
I was delighted to see that Sesame Street has created a show, When Parents Are Deployed, to help over half a million young children under five years old who are facing the deployment of a parent.
In the show Elmo and and his father, who is in the Navy, come up with special ways to stay connected even when they are on opposite sides of the earth. Here are a few tips I gleaned from the news story I saw this evening.
As the sportscaster reported on Tiger's failure to make it into the US Open this weekend, he seemed to be surprised. Shocked in fact.
Hello! Tiger's father died of cancer just 9 short weeks ago. He hasn't played since then.
And the world expects him to perform at his peak!?
I remember how I felt 9 weeks after my father died...and I can tell you I wasn't at my best. Heck, I was just barely able to go through the motions to get to work, make my meals, and take care of myself.
I felt numb. I couldn't think clearly. I wasn't able to focus. The emotions of grief rolled through me at the most unexpected times. I can't imagine trying to be at my best during those months.
Descriptions of Tiger's performance today give us a glimpse at how our culture handles death and grief. There's an underlying assumption that people can jump right back into action after a loved one dies.
They can take actions...but realistically speaking those actions aren't likely to be effective, focused, or clear for some time. The truth is, grieving takes time...it's a journey of healing and adjusting to the loss of a loved one. Some days are good, other days not so good.
The key is to have compassion for those who are grieving. Know that in time, they will come back. There's just no way to predict when that time will come.
How did you feel 9 weeks after your loved one died? Make a comment below...let's help others see that they aren't alone in feeling disconnected and off balance.
What to say about the pictures we are seeing in the South.
The damage, the devastation, the pain, the anguish...almost more than can be put into words. Even newscasters seem to be shocked by what they see.
Although we could see this storm coming and many people acted on the order to evacuate, the property damage reminds me of the tsunami in December, 2005. I heard one person say that Katrina is "our" tsunami. Now that the evacuation sites, aren't safe, the journey to safety continues.
As I did in the days following the tsunami, I'm asking myself questions I don't know the answers to.
I could go on. My mind keeps spinning as I try to wrap my mind about the impact this multi-faceted transition is having on individuals, families, communities, cities, states, our country, and the world.
As Hurricane Katrina charges forward she leaves a path of soggy destruction in her wake, I think of the transitions that will touch each of the residents of the region.
First, there's the trauma of evacuating...the lines and lines of cars moving in slow motion...and the lines and lines of people entering shelters. Althernatively, for those who didn't evacuate, there's the experience of surviving the storm itself - the wind, the rising water, the damage to their homes, the fear.
Second, there's the waiting...not knowing when they can go back to their homes...wondering what will be there when they do make it back. Even though the worst of the storm has passed, the govenor of Louisiana has asked her residents not to return to their homes until tomorrow. That's going to be a long wait!
Third, there's the first glimpse of their homes. Here the reality hits home. Whether the damage is more or less than they expected, the reality of the damage to their homes and their neighborhoods is likely to hit hard.
And the transitions just keep coming...
Fourth, there's the clean up. Although the world watches intently for the fews few weeks, the clean up will continue for some time...at the governmental level as well as the household level.
Fifth, there's the assessment of their options...working with insurance companies and local and federal agencies creates a maze of steps to take to understand just where they stand.
Sixth, there's the decision...to rebuild or not to rebuild. No matter which way each family goes...rebuilding their lives, often from scratch, takes time, patience, and faith.
If you know anyone in the Hurricane Zone, be sure to keep them in your thoughts. Reach out to them as the emergency passes. Listen to their story...retelling it will help them heal. If they are having a difficult time adjusting to their new life, recommend they speak with a professional so they don't have to live with their fear and distress for years to come.
No matter how you look at it, this storm is likely to be remembered for a long, long time.
I just heard that Dana Reeve, Christopher Reeve's widow, has been diagnosed with lung cancer and is undergoing treatments.
My first thought was, haven't she and her family been through enough already? Do they have to face an intense health related situation again so soon? Can't they be spared this experience? How is their young son faring?
Then I remembered what my family went through in the late 80's and early 90's. In 1985 my father was diagnosed with lymphoma. He died 18 monhts later right after I finished graduate school and relocated to CA. My mom has several surgeries that could have led to the discovery of cancer (thankfully the word "benign" was the main word in those experiences). In 1989, just weeks after the Loma Prieta Earthquake, one of my grandfathers died. Within weeks we moved my grandmother, who was dealing with dementia and the loss of her husband of 58 years, to a retirement home. Six months later my other grandfather and his wife died. The same year I was troubled by a fatigue problem in which a 10 minute walk put me in bed for three to four hours. My health triggered my realization that I needed to create work that was outside the structures of the corporate world so I embarked on my career change in 1991. In 1992, my mother was diagnosed and treated for breast cancer...thankfully she is a survivor!
I remember conversations within our family: "Will this ever end?" "What will happen next?" It got to the point that I started to fabricate the next event in my mind. This kind of thinking was not at all helpful as I worried endlessly. Gradually I was able to find my way beyond the constant, vigilant worry mode.
To this day I don't know why we had such a series of difficult situations to face. I do know that walking through that series of transitions led me to my life's work. Although I was already interested in transitions, experiencing the transitions myself heightened my awareness of what people go through when faced with a difficult transition or a series of them. I felt a passionate desire to find ways to help others navigate difficult times.
I know Dana, who went through so much with Chris, will draw upon what she learned during his journey to find her way through this one. I wish her health!
As the nation and the world await the return of the shuttle Discovery, we are experiencing the discomfort of Fall.
We are a bit edgy. Worried and anxious about the how events will unfold on Monday as the shuttle reenters the atmosphere. Images from the Columbia disaster lurk in our memory. We fear a repeat of that disaster.
If you aren't that concerned about this event yourself, think of the astronauts' families and what they are going through. Although the astronauts signed up for the risks, the family members are facing this potential transition without much choice.
They are all, at this moment, wrestling in their own way with:
If you've ever awaited news about a biopsy, the feelings are quite similar. You can't make time go faster. You can't know the outcome until the outcome unfolds. Until then, you must deal with the scenarios that play out in your mind. They may range from "I'm fine. Nothing is going to happen" to "This is it. The worst possible scenario is the way this is going to play out."
When you are in the waiting and worrying mode of Fall, be gentle with yourself. Surround yourself with people who care about you and what you are going through. Reach out for companionship that is supportive of where you are. Do what you can to stay relaxed -- it won't be easy, but keeping your cool will help you navigate whatever path is ahead.
