December Book Give Away

This month I will be giving a book away each week. For this week, please go to my face book page and share my most recent post on your page to be entered in my book give away. The winner will receive a free signed copy of my book. The drawing will be this Friday, 12/14/12.

I don't want to exclude anyone, so if you don't do facebook, please leave your name and contact info as a comment to this blog. Thank you!

A Child's Time to Grieve

As an adult, in a dangerous situation, we put the oxygen mask on ourself first, and then we give it to our child. Well, widowhood was like a disaster that hit my life. In the first year of grief, I needed everyone else's help before I could help my children. My daughters, 6 and 7 at the time, not only didn't have a father that first year, but their mother was absent as well.

I felt depleted. I was emotionally unavailable to them and wrapped up in my own grief. The little sense I did have, I made sure they met with their school counselor. I had no idea how they were processing their grief and if they were even doing ok.

We also had some family conferences with the guidance counselor. My daughters were able to talk about their feelings. The counselor reassured me that they had a healthy understanding of what happened. This relieved me since I had been consumed with my own thoughts. Even though we lived under the same roof I had no idea how my children were coping.

I kept going that first year mainly on faith. I didn't feel death was final when I had hope in eternal life. I know my girls heard me say that alot. I also think God was carrying them that first year. I imagined they were cradled in His arms as a protecting Father until I was well enough to meet their physical and emotional needs. I think the spiritual needs were covered.

Once the first year of widowhood was behind me, I felt stronger. I thought more about my children's needs. My oldest daughter attended a weekend hospice camp, for children who had lost a loved one. The day I picked her up they had closing ceremonies. Each child shared an experience from the weekend. I didn't know whether to feel happy or sad for them. It was tragic these children suffered a loss but fortunate that they found joy again.

The following year, both my girls attended the hospice camp and also went to a children's eight week hospice grief support group. A counselor told me it can take children up to four and a half years to work through grief. So after the first year of it being ALL ABOUT ME, for several years after it was then ALL ABOUT THEM. There were times I was ready to move on, to new goals and relationships, but I backed up and sacrificed moving forward until my children caught up.

SHOCK! Safe in God's Cocoon

I glanced up toward the hospital ceiling, "Can you see me? Do you know that you died? Are you hovering over me, or did you go towards the light?"

I believed my husband's death marked a time to rejoice. I felt that we'd all be in heaven one day and see our family and friends again. Why should we cry? What's so sad about death? My only sadness was for my fatherless children.

As I settled in for the first night as a widow, I lay staring at the ceiling. "Nelson, where are you? Can you hear me? I wish I'd die, too, so we could go to heaven together." My thoughts raced back and forth all night between imagining my husband's adventure to heaven and planning his memorial service. The joy I felt came from knowing he no longer lived in pain but in eternal peace. I kept thinking, "How cool is that! Isn't that where we all hope to be one day if we're Christians?"

I tried to stay in this spiritual realm for as long as possible. I felt happy, safe, and peaceful. Besides, it looked so dreadful how family and friends were mourning. I wanted to stay in my happy place and be happy for my husband. Because of my faith, I knew that he was ok. I realized that my family and friends needed to grieve in their own ways, even if I didn't understand. Probably many of them couldn't comprehend God's cocoon I was living in that sheltered me from the pain.

"Cindy, I've watched you today," said Fran, a friend from church. "You're a tremendous witness for God. I see how He's filled you with strength and peace. I noticed how you shared your faith, hope and beliefs to others."

For a month, God did fill me with His strength and peace. I could not have done it on my own. I only wished I could have stayed in His cocoon forever!