A Shared Experience of Grief Taught Me About Grieving
I found a grieving group that worked for me. I was the only male in a room of 20 women. These women became my teachers and my inspiration. They taught me about courage, strength, and compassion. I share part of that experience in this excerpt from Dancing Alone: Learning to Love Again:
I listened to a woman openly cry while telling the story of her husband who died of a heart attack in her arms. I thought of how strong she was to recognize her need to grieve. She wanted to be healed. Another woman described how her husband of 54 years died unexpectedly this summer. A woman sitting next to me, Chris, showed me her ring finger with a tattoo of her deceased husband’s name, Nick, on it. Even though a tattoo isn’t something I would personally do, I empathized with her heartbreak. Terry, who sat two seats over to my right, still mourned the loss of her dad after four years. Her sadness was etched all over her face. Her loss, like mine, resided in the deep, dark places of her soul. Each woman spoke with honesty, searching for comfort amongst their deep losses. At times, they spoke of the physical suffering they were experiencing.
“At times it feels like I can’t breathe my heart hurts so much,” a woman named Janet shared.
Rose, who sat on my left, spoke through watery eyes. “I miss not being able to hug my Daniel. I miss his laugh, his smile, his warmth.”
For each of us, our suffering and pain manifested itself in similar and different ways. In the end, it led to the same place of grief. We hurt. We ached. We wondered if we would ever be happy.
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Excerpt From: Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again by Ray Calabrese. This material is protected by