grief

The Shifting of Frankie’s Spirit

Posted by Barbara Techel

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It has taken me a few days to write about this. I guess it’s just one of those things that left me wondering if it really happened, or was it my imagination. But I’m going to trust my intuition here, as well as trust once again, that yes, we are all connected–whether those we love are here physically or not.

Last week Friday, in the early evening I finally had a moment to sit on the sofa and do one of my favorite things which is peruse through my Country Living magazine, with Joie by my side.  But let me back up for a moment.

After Frankie passed in June, everyday after that for over three months I’d take a moment each morning and look at the family photo of us above. I’d touch Frankie’s head as if petting her, telling her how much I missed her and loved her… would always love her. Often times at night, I’d feel the need to look at her in the photo as I sat on the sofa reading.

So this past Friday, finally beginning to relax after my big three weeks of releasing the special edition of my book, plus my book launch, it felt good to find my way back to a routine again. But all of a sudden, I heard a voice in my head say, “I’m moving on now.” I immediately looked up at Frankie’s picture and my eyes filled with tears.

Silently I said, “No, please don’t go!”

Then I heard, “I’ll still be here, not far, if you need me. But you will be okay now.”

My lip started  to quiver and I felt as if Frankie was moving through me. It was as if her spirit lifted up a bit further than where she was before. I sat in this feeling for a few moments questioning if it was really happening. Not wanting it to happen, but knowing she was right. I am, and will be, okay.

I then smiled and told her it was okay to rest now.  As I’ve moved through the past few days since then I’ve felt Frankie’s spirit become lighter and lighter- not a bad thing- but a comforting feeling that her work is now completely done. She got me through the book launch of our shared story and now she rests in the peace that she did a job well done.

Indeed she did. I’ll always love you sweet Frankie for all you did for me. Be well, rest well, and know that I carry you in my heart always.

Bliss. How Do We Get It and Keep It?

Posted by Barbara Techel

Photo courtesy of Flickr 

My yogi tea bag saying this morning says:  “Bliss is a constant state of mind, undisturbed by gain or loss.”   I love the sayings I find on my tea bag each morning.  They always make me think.

Bliss, like choices, yes, I do believe are a state of mind. We have a choice to live in bliss, no matter what may be going on in our lives. But how challenging that is at times, right?  I know for me, someone who for the past five years has really talked the talk of being positive with my wheelie side kick, Frankie, this is something I’ve tried hard to to not only talk, but also walk.

I’ll admit this summer was a bit of a challenge for me with being positive despite losing Frankie. I found myself swallowing the grief many times, continuing to put on my happy, blissful, positive face, even when I wanted to just lay down and cry. I didn’t want to be happy. I wanted to wallow in the depths of losing Frankie- the little being who filled my everyday with such amazing love and joy. I didn’t want to be in bliss.  I wanted to feel sorry for myself and crawl into a hole and never come out again. I wanted to feel sorry for what ended and not have hope for what might be. All I wanted was to have Frankie back again. Then my life would be complete once again.

But I knew I couldn’t stay there- and many days, even though I had days of wanting to just live in the pain and let it take me away, I also wanted to find my way back to my bliss.  I read a book a few weeks ago that talks about grief in one of the most honest ways I’ve ever read. The book is called, “This I know- notes on unraveling the heart”  by Susannah Conway. It is the book chosen for the Creative Book Salon I am in which writing coach, Cynthia Morris leads each month.  Susannah says in her book, “You don’t get over grief- you move through it as you learn to live with the loss. You have to learn to swim with it.”

So that is what I did this summer, I learned to move through it, to accept that yes, my life is now changed because Frankie is gone. I learned to swim.

Another thing she said which I found so profound was this, “Each person experiences grief in their own individual way. And though I have often thought that to lose a child would be the most devastating loss of all, there is no hierarchy to grief—only we can know the pain we feel and what we have lost.”  I can’t even begin to express what this meant to me to read this. Even though I know losing an animal is just as hard as losing a human for many, sometimes harder, I still can find myself not expressing my loss around those who may not understand for fear of judgement.  But I appreciated how Susannah seems to give permission to dealing with any type of loss and doing it in our own way.

This brings me full circle back to bliss- a state of mind.  Susannah lost the love of her life and she spiraled down to the deepest depths of her soul– only to come out finding a new bliss, trusting that it was there all along—that she would find her way back to it.  Bliss, always there, no matter what gain or loss we have– we just have to make the conscious choice to choose it.  And when our mind can’t even begin to grasp it during dark days–  we can trust that we can have bliss back in the simple act of choosing our thought to be just that.

Grieving. There Is No Right Or Wrong Way.

Posted by Barbara Techel

Cassie and Frankie 2005

In a recent blog post author Jon Katz talked about the fact that people ask him everyday if he misses or mourns dogs that he has  lost. Does he cry for Rose? Does he miss Izzy?  His answer struck me in that he said the does not mourn or miss them. That it is a choice what is in his heart and he chooses to not look back and to live in the here and now. He said, “There is no missing. Only being.”

One thing I admire about Jon greatly and am learning to do myself is to really speak how I feel about things. He also does not judge others for their opinions or how they feel. Being a writer and putting himself out there he has certainly endured tough scrutiny from others when they don’t agree with him.

While I will give him what is his to feel, I just have to say after I read that post, it almost for a moment made me feel like perhaps something was wrong with me that I still miss Frankie, and still miss my chocolate Lab, Cassie Jo- both very instrumental in my life. To not miss them is not something I could easily do. If I had my way, they’d both still be here with me.  But I also know for me, there is nothing wrong with me that I miss them. And I also know that I am strong enough to move forward and enjoy the here and now, and look to the future. I hope that for others, too, and that a loss that is deep does not stop others from living their lives to the fullest.

It used to bother me when people would say after someone passed, “Well, so and so would want you to be happy.” I wondered, How did they really know that?  But when I think about myself not being here someday, I would want for those I love to be happy. I would want them to still do all the things they enjoy.  I think that with Frankie, too.  I know she wouldn’t want me to be sad for too long– that she wants me to love another weenie dog someday.  And when it comes to dogs, we all know, there are plenty out there just waiting to be loved.

So while I’m baffled at Jon not missing or mourning dogs that have passed on, I admire him for being able to say so.  And one thing I really learned when I was part of a group that helped others mourning the grief of a pet is that there is no right or wrong way to do this.  We each have to do what is right for us.  Jon’s post also gives me the courage to say, hey I’m doing pretty well, and moving forward, and enjoying the here and now, but I still sure do miss Frankie who was my partner, my friend, my teacher, my guide, and my snuggle bug…. and I’ll always miss her… but I’ll always smile when thinking of her and all she gave to me in this time and space that she did.  I’ll carry on little one…. I promise.