by Benjamin Allen | Mar 17, 2014 | reflections on grief, reflections on grief recovery, reintegration after loss
Matt was so sick, so close to death. He was on hospice for eight months. In his last two days all the signs that the body was emptying were there. I could touch his hand, but his heart was beginning to turn in another direction. I knew he was to die soon, but no...
by Benjamin Allen | Mar 16, 2014 | reflections on grief, reflections on grief recovery, reintegration after loss
There is a difference between the two, just as there is a difference between the two worlds my loss has come to know. I can go on in this world. I may not be able to go in the pace I once had. I may find it difficult to keep going, but I can go on. Yet, I have no need...
by Benjamin Allen | Mar 16, 2014 | reflections on grief, reflections on grief recovery, reintegration after loss
For years I kept thinking there was a corner to turn in my grief. I kept thinking that I should be better by now; that I should be able to re-enter the life I once knew and get on with it. I don’t know where I got the idea that there was a corner to turn in the...
by Benjamin Allen | Mar 16, 2014 | reflections on grief, reflections on grief recovery, reintegration after loss
I have no clue. What does it mean for me to heal from the death of a loved one? I have my experience. I know what it means to me, but everyone has their own experience. Everyone has their own understanding of what healing means to them. I do not presume to know what...
by Benjamin Allen | Mar 16, 2014 | reflections on grief, reflections on grief recovery, reintegration after loss
When Lydia was thirteen, my father joked that she was the head of the Wounded Bird Society. Her greatest passion was caring. One of her greatest gifts to life was she cared. Life took a lot out of Lydia. It took her baby. It took the health, and ultimately the life,...
by Benjamin Allen | Mar 16, 2014 | reflections on grief, reflections on grief recovery, reintegration after loss
Even in my most solitary moments, I am not alone. I feel a presence. There is something beyond this moment, yet within this moment, that envelops my sorrow and rests in the depths of my being. Others have names for this presence. Others have paradigms that define and...
