Tag Archives: loss

The Act of Letting Go

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Well, I did it. I released him.  I won’t call it “saying goodbye”, as I had previously written;  I will simply say I released him.

I went to say goodbye.  I walked his ashes down to the water with the intention of saying goodbye, but as the ashes scattered in the wind and drifted down to the waves below, I knew it was just me releasing him, and that he would always be there whenever I wanted to visit and say hello.

A few weeks ago I went on a trip to Europe.  This trip was planned as part of a personal quest to get to know myself. This trip was something I wanted and needed.  Something to push me outside of my comfort zone, test my character and give me the time alone to explore who I am, what I want and where I want to go in my life. And to have some fabulous adventures along the way, of course!

I knew the trip was going to be special. It was not going to be be just an average “holiday”, but rather a turning point. A new chapter.  Perhaps even the beginning of a new story all together.

With this in mind, I knew it was time to let him go. The morning before I boarded my flight to Stockholm, I took the small wooden box containing his ashes down to the water.  With my black leather boots protecting me from from puddles and my polka dot umbrella shielding my face from the rain, I rounded the back of the pier. Luckily there were only a few fisherman out that day, so it didn’t take me long to find a corner to be alone with him.

I stood there in the rain. I had my ear buds in and listened to a sweet, slow melody as I reached into my purse and removed the small box. The wind calmed and the rain slowed to a drizzle. I collapsed the umbrella, resting it against the metal guard rail and held him in both of my hands. Then the tears came. But these were new tears, not the same I had shed for him time and time again.  This time, the tears were letting him go – releasing him. The tears leaked out, rolling down my cheeks, salt kissing my lips and continuing down to pool around my neck.

let-gooooo

I held him tight it my hands. I felt the box, the ridges and grooves where the inscription was carved. I slid back the cover and removed the small packet of ashes.  I snipped the top with a small pair of scissors, looked inside and saw the pale gray dust start to move in the breeze. I held the bag out over the railing, tipped it upside down and watched as he caught the wind and gently floated to the waves.

***

I returned from my trip this past Monday.  It was everything I had hoped it would be and more. Still basking in the glow of time spent reading on the beach in the South of France, meeting a psychic in Amsterdam, meditating with Deepak Chopra in Paris and all of the people I met and realizations I had along the way, I spent this week slowly integrating myself back into daily life, trying to carry with me all that happened while making sense of some of my personal reflections.

Today was the first Saturday in three weeks that I woke up in my own apartment.  Instead of rushing to get out into the world to explore or be productive, I took it slow. I savored the morning, just as I would have if I was on holiday. I declined an invitation to meet up with a friend and opted for a day of solitude, choosing instead to read, write, stretch my legs in the sunshine, take a long afternoon nap and have a quiet night at home.

Outside, the sun beat hot upon my face. San Francisco is known to be overcast, with autumn-like weather the majority of the year.  Today was unusually warm. On a day like today, the water beckons and you must obey.  Heeding the siren’s call, I made my way to the Bay and stood there thinking Do I go left or right? Left or right? I chose left.

I chose to go and say hello to him and see how his new spot was.  Today it was bright and sunny and hot – the pier filled with people.  There were men fishing and families picnicking.  There was a man sitting on a bench, playing his guitar and getting lost in the sound.  A couple leaning against the building, taking shelter in the shade and giving their dog a bowl of water to drink.  And right in front of where I spread his ashes, two men sitting on a bench drinking beer out of glass bottles – no brown bag. Proud and happily defiant. He would have liked that.

I squatted down to look at the aqua water and snap a picture of the beautiful day. The woman standing about twenty feet behind me, watched me closely.  When I turned to leave, she didn’t even attempt to avert her eyes, she just watched. Her observing me, me observing the others, and him floating along the water, watching it all with a smile. There were no tears today, just peace.

This is the first time I have written about him without crying. I have finally let him go. I have let him go both literally and figuratively, evidenced by my sense of peace and lack of salty tears.  He will always be a part of my past.  Knowing him and loving him has shaped who I am today which will certainly impact who I will become in the future.  But this next chapter is mine. Mine to write as I wish, carrying with me all that I have learned and all that I wish to experience.

And should I ever wish  to say hello, I will simply walk my feet down to the Bay and watch the waves lap against the pier, where he dances on the water and observes the passersby – just as he always has.

Your truly,

Erin Terese

P.S.  Thank you for taking this journey with me. Your readership, friendship and support makes all the difference in the world. xo

 

Ghosts of He

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Not while we dined, but long after she told me, I thought of him, snuggled by his mother – his little hands in hers, holding them tight while she cried, both of them seated on the couch.

There was an afghan crumpled at the foot, which he spied out of the corner of his eye. He slid off the couch, plumped a pillow for which she could lay her head and motioned for her to lie down. Bending her knees as she did, he placed his palms on the back of her calf and guided her legs into a straightened position, better for her to rest and relax.  Then, grabbing the blanket, he pulled the worn and faded corners over her body. Almost as if he were tucking her in at night, he wrapped the ends tightly around her shoulders, thighs and feet, so that she looked like a newborn in swaddling.

In that moment, he placed his hands on her face and looked into her eyes.  Sweeping the hair from her brow and tucking it behind her ear, she remembers the weight of that moment.  In his death, those moments of innocence seem swept away, and I can see where it weighs heavily on her.

Without that memory she so graciously shared, I had loved him and would love him anyway – but folded with the gestures of care and comfort, his light shone even greater.

As he gazed into her eyes, wiping away the final wisp of hair stuck to her dampened forehead, she said “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” His response came ever so sweetly, past his little boy lips, “It’s okay, Mom.  Just please don’t do it again.”

Our coffee mugs were dark that morning, with grounds in the bottom we hardly noticed were there. The bitterness of each sip, rested hot and heavy on our tongues and burned on the way down.  His sudden death lingered for us both and served to bring us to this table.  “What was he like when he was a boy?” I asked. “He was so sweet,” she said, “sweeter than I deserved.”

*note from Miss Erin Terese*

P.S.  The short story above is the third piece I have written for a 10 week Writers Workshop I am participating in.  The exercise was to pick a mood and depict the feelings through the action (and scene) of someone else. The primary goal is to reveal the narrator and get a feeling without having to tell it.

In the interest of growing in my writing technique, style and tone, I will be sharing my pieces here.

I hope you enjoy!  xo

Unarmoring My Heart

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It wasn’t until the death of my ex-boyfriend that I realized how strongly I had been guarding my heart.

It should have been evident from my inability to find another partner, but I couldn’t see it. I had grieved the death of our relationship, the future we planned for ourselves, and his presence in my life…  But when I grew weary of mourning, I shut it down – and the remaining pieces that needed examining, laid quiet within me.

unarmored-heart

The past few months have been a blur for me.  From the moment I was notified of his disappearance, I felt it inside me – he was gone.  But with lack of a body and no evidence to support it concretely, I had hoped for the best and went through the motions of searching for him and discussing all the possible scenarios with his family.

Never in my wildest dreams could I have envisioned myself spending so much time with his mother and the conversations we have had.  She and I have been a support to one another in ways that words cannot begin to describe (but of course, I will try).  The stories we have shared with one another have shed light on parts of him that neither of us saw.  It has helped to connect the dots.  To answer unanswered questions. To see the man we both loved so dearly in a much broader sense.

When I received the news that his body had been found, it was as if the whole world stopped and came crashing in. There was a reckoning. Every thought and feeling and emotion that was left unaddressed came bubbling up and pouring out. I was unleashed.  Consumed by feelings of loss and regret, I knew I had to sit with it.  I had to allow it to surface and to acknowledge every tear and fear as it arose.  And I did. And I grieved the loss of him – heavily.

And it didn’t take long before the truth came to me and looked me square in the face: ever since our breakup, I have been dating with a guarded heart.

In some ways I had known it all along, but I hadn’t realized how strongly I had it guarded until that moment.  Yes, I have learned to embrace life and friendships and my passions in life with a kind of fierceness and unbridled sense of adventure that is easy for myself and others to see. How confusing then, for men who try to date me, when they can see how open my heart is for the rest of the world, and how armored it is for them.

How completely unfair of me to expect that I should find a patient and open-hearted Knight in Shining Armor to unlock the chains I placed, when I wasn’t even willing to hand them the key.

So now I must remove my armor.

In order to receive the love I so greatly desire to feel again, and to build the family I long to have, I must remove the barriers I have built, and allow space for love to enter again.  I must be willing to place my heart into hands that promise to hold it gently, and trust that it will be cared for and tended to, the same way I will tend to theirs.

And so begins the next chapter for me, of unarmoring my heart. Of learning to love again, unbridled, without fear of being broken.

I can only hope, and try one day at a time, to allow my tender-heartedness to be my greatest strength and not my weakness.  To remember that love is worth the risk and that it is always good to have it stretched open, even if it has to close back up for mending.  Like a beautiful flower, it can always bloom again.

Here’s to unraveling the chain, one link at a time!

Yours truly,

Miss Erin Terese

Avoid, Rinse, Repeat. – I am breaking the cycle.

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I struggle with when to stay and when to walk away in romantic relationships, friendships and even in my career.  This is a sensitive subject for me.  In order to discuss this and have any kind of opinion on the matter, I am going to be vulnerable and air my dirty laundry for all to read.  I don’t like this.

So here it goes…

I don’t think I really noticed how wounded I was until I started writing this blog.  I didn’t fully understand how strongly I hold my loved ones in my grasp.  I didn’t realize that some I would fight for endlessly and others I would let slip away as if they had meant nothing to me. To the outsider, it may seem haphazard – but there is surely a rhyme and definitely a reason.

The thing is, it is the same thing every time.  I will fight to save and help and encourage the people in my life.  To no end.  When they call, I am there. Even if it has been years, my heart beats for my loved ones.  I truly carry their heart in my heart.  This is true until this one thing happens.  Until I think that I might be left. If I fear that I may be at fault, have done any wrong and that I might be abandoned, I leave. I rewrite what has happened in my head and make it seem as if it was my choice to be drama free – when really I was guarding my heart.  And wounding it further along the way.

Same story, different boyfriend, lover, friend – every time. Avoid, Rinse, Repeat.

And yes, some of those relationships are better left where they lay.  It was a blessing.  But some could have been nurtured.  Some I could have taken the time to reach out again and listen with a patient heart.  I could have asked to hear what I had done, if anything, that lead to the growing canyon between us.  But my standard response was to speculate and write the story in my head. As if I knew. As if there was anyway I could really have known what happened.

My cowardice in confrontation has left me with lost friendships and lovers that perhaps could have been life-long friends or loves of my life, had I not been so fearful of their judgment.  Had my insecurities and childhood wounds not left me so fearful of being brokenhearted. And on the flip-side, I may not have even been their friend or lover had I not been seeking their approval in the first place.  Knowing this is a trip.

What I have learned from all of my writing, the endless hours dissecting my thoughts, and countless hours learning to quite my mind, is the truth. The essence of me. (And I know many of you are going to relate to this) I have a large heart.  A big one.  I could fill a football stadium with my loved ones. I would fly around the world and scale the highest mountain to help any one of those dear ones.  But have I always given myself that same amount of love and dedication?  Sadly, I have not.  Not until now.

nurture

Now I am going to fight to save and help and encourage myself in this life.  This means that I will lean into the discomfort of conversations to find the truth.  I will no longer walk away when things get scary, I will stay and talk them through and hug everyone on the way out – whether it is for the last time or if I will see them bright and early the next morning.

I am giving up on the idea of never.  The idea that you have to even walk away. It doesn’t have to be a forever goodbye, slam the door in your face and never hear from you again.  It can be a “So long my friend, I wish you the best.  I love you.  Until will meet again”.  Because guess what?  Life is short.  It is crazy.  There are twists and turns and chapters we can never imagine. Leading characters may fade into the back, and supporting characters may swoop in and save the day.

You never know.

To assume and wonder and speculate does no one any good.  Ask for your answer.  Hear it with an open heart.  If you do not get an answer, then do your best to release it and bless it on the way out – “until we meet again”.  Or at least that is my plan.  Instead of “Avoid, Rinse, Repeat” it is “Love, Nurture, Forgive”.

Yours truly,

Miss Erin Terese

It’s Okay to be Sad Sometimes

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It’s okay to be sad sometimes.  It’s okay to feel the weight of things.  It’s okay to cry and ask for time alone.  It’s okay to feel hurt and betrayed and wounded. It is.

It may not feel good, or you may feel foolish about your weighty emotions, but when they arise it is important you acknowledge their presence.  These moments of despair and loss and sadness reveal what is important to you.  What makes you tick.  Who you are, where you have come from and what you have learned.

Whether this bout of sadness is grounded in a break-up, an illness, a death, a job loss, a bankruptcy or a mistake you have made, the feelings are valid.  Even if you cannot place the reason for your sadness, it still needs to be addressed.  Nursed.  Tended to.  Loved and  cared for with kindness and patience.  When you find yourself in these moments, you need allow the feelings to be, address them, and then dig into your bag of tricks and exercise the things that help you heal and reset.

We all have them: the cure-alls.  Not the glass of wine, cigar, romp in the sheets or fist fight you might be yearning for – but the real medicine.

The moment alone.  The walk in the park.  The deep breaths.  The nap.  The tall glass of water.  The talk with a friend or words in your journal.  The tears on your pillow or tea in your cup. The coins tossed in the homeless person’s hat or hand on the weeping woman’s back. The gratitude and forgiveness. The prayer or plea or pause for reflection.  The gentleness with yourself.  This is the real medicine.  The real cure.

Sadness

When you take a moment to still your mind and ask yourself what you really need, the answer presents itself.  The answer always lies within.  We forget this sometimes.  And sometimes we see the answer and because we don’t like it, we push it aside. We need to take the time to address what ails us and to sit with it.  To understand it.  To heal it and forgive what needs forgiving.  To love it and feel gratitude for all that we have and for the opportunity to change and grow.

The important thing is that we take these moments as a lesson.  A lesson in learning more about who we are and how to love ourselves more kindly, with the gentleness and care that we deserve.

Yours truly,

Erin Terese

P.S.  How do you care for yourself in times of sadness?

Grieve It and Let It Go.

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After receiving some very heartfelt comments on my last post and reflecting on my personal experience with grief, I would like to discuss the importance of grieving loss.  It took me twenty years to let go of a sorrow I had not dealt with properly. While trying to heal my broken heart from a failed relationship, I discovered I had not properly dealt with the death of my grandfather.  Here are a few words on what I learned:

Grieving loss is extremely vital in the healing process.  In order to move past the loss and approach life with passion, zest and a solid sense of self, we must address the loss we experience.  Whether the loss is the death of a loved one, the death of a marriage (AKA divorce) or a life altering illness (death of a planned future), we must face and acknowledge the loss and deal with all of the emotions that come with it.

Mourning and grieving affect people differently.  Some people cry. Some people argue.  Some people drink. Some people have sex. Some people shout from the Facebook Mountain Top!  While all of these things may help release tension in the moment, what is most effective long-term is taking time to think.  Time to reflect.  You need to uncover why you are so sad and lost.  Are you lonely?  Do you feel abandoned?  Are you afraid you will never be loved again?  Do you feel unworthy of love?  What do you really want out of life?  What would truly make you happy?  As you address these questions, you may need to dig back, way back, through your life to get to the root of the answers.  This is one of the reasons people often feel as if they are moving backward in the healing process; the feeling of being more lost and more lonely than before the healing process began.  This is totally normal. Really, it is!

Here is what is happening:  as you uncover why you feel a certain way about something, you are able to see how that has affected your life.  These deep seeded issues affect how we treat others, how we treat ourselves and how we view the world.  It is common to feel guilty that you didn’t recognize and address this earlier. If you find yourself holding on to guilt, you need to let it go.  Holding on to it benefits no one.  You need to forgive yourself.  Part of this process is apologizing to those you have wronged.  People may be receptive to your apology or they may not; and that is okay.  The point is that you are taking ownership over your choices. You are taking control over the direction of your life.

Now, if the person you have wronged is yourself, then issue a heartfelt apology to yourself.  Vow to make a change.  Promise yourself you will treat yourself better.  Forgive yourself and move forward.  Continue on the healing path and allow yourself as much time as you need.  Each person heals in their own time; there is no standard time frame.  The important thing is that you keep going until you are able to release all of the things that have been weighing you down and holding you back.

Reading this, hell, knowing this, will obviously not change things overnight.  The change starts with you.  You have to want more for yourself.  You have to be willing to take a hard look at your life and your choices.  But honestly, you are amazing.  You are.  If the world hasn’t acknowledged you for it, it’s only because you are still holding back.  You are amazing and you need to get comfortable with that fact.  Be your authentic self and tackle your issues.  I promise that if you move forward with the intent of living a life filled with love, passion and purpose, peace will find you.  Just keep moving.  Do not be discouraged by the length of time it takes.  This process will yield one of the greatest gifts you will ever receive: inner peace and a deep love for yourself.

Yours truly,

Erin Terese