Dealing with Grief and Fears

Imagine that I said to you, “I hate your purple hair. It looks terrible on you.” Assuming that your hair is any color except purple, you might wonder about my eyesight but aside from that, you wouldn’t give the comment a second thought…

My neighbor, Heidi, recently told me, “I’ve forgiven my mother, but I won’t go to her funeral.” My friend Lynne has not communicated with her mother in 30 years. She occasionally trolls for a death certificate because, as the only child, there might be something…

My back was bothering me the other day. Fortunately, I have a chiropractor who works wonders, so I called his office for an appointment: “The doctor is on vacation, sorry…

Does knowing there’s an end point guide you towards living well? As a society, we don’t talk much about death. Yet if we did, perhaps we’d live better. Many feel it is morbid to think about let alone talk about. I have a friend who upon her birthday…

Back in 2018, my second husband passed from this life, and one of my friends asked, “Would you have married again if you knew he would be gone in 6 years?” That is a hard question to answer. It made me think for just a minute…

Let’s have some straight talk about fear first. Fear is one of the most powerful emotions we have. As an analogy, compare it to the old childhood game, “king of the hill.” Fear bullies out rational logical thinking, peace, and inner calm…

Death and dying do not make for a jolly subject of any conversation, but it is part of life. And none of us is getting any younger. Is death or dying something you think about very much? You may prefer to think it will never happen…

During the days before Mom’s death, there were long periods of intense stillness. While sitting quietly in her room, conversing in whispers with my sisters and brother, sadness settled into my chest. I caught myself holding my breath at times…

I was in my late 50s when I became a caregiver for my parents, so our family dynamic was pretty established. We were a family of strong personalities. Mom was the boss and controlled all the family matters. Dad was patient…

At around age 55 I found my voice. Previously, my voice was that of my husband, or my boss, and sometimes my adult children. I thought it would be best not to speak up with an opinion, and furthermore, I greatly doubted my opinion…