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Archive for April 8th, 2012

 

“Whether the patient is told explicitly or not, he will nevertheless come to this awareness and may lose confidence in a doctor who either told him a lie or who did not help him face the seriousness of his illness while there might have been time to get his affairs in order.”

~~ Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, On Death and Dying

So, stage one is supposedly denial.

I really like this part of the book.

She says that there is a direct proportion of denial in the patient as their is in the doctor.

If we cannot handle ourselves or if we cannot handle feelings about death, or we have not dealt with the important losses in our own lives, how can we be there and be fully present and supportive of our patients?

So whose denial is it?  I think it is ours collectively.

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His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama brings togeth...

“If you are not aware of death, you will failure to take advantage of this special human life that you have already attained.  It is meaningful since, based on it, important effects can be accomplished.”

~~  HH the Dalai Lama, Tenzin Gyatso

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Continuing Bonds

Recently, I attended the retirement party of a good friend of my father’s. My father was a police officer so these events are common especially of late, as many of his comrades are reaching retirement age.

I’ll admit that I view my attendance at these events as somewhat of an obligation at times.

Though the gentlemen that my father worked with and their families are always more than accommodating to my mother and I, the experience can still be quite emotional. And I might as well admit that I am 23 years old and there is a little piece of me that doesn’t want to spend her weekend with retires.

I’ll also admit that I love going to these things. I was eight years old when my father died and he, much like myself, was extremely passionate about his work and rarely told anyone at home about his job.

My father, in his own way, was almost masterful in avoiding what we in the helping professions would call compassion fatigue. So much so that we at home knew very little of what my father was like when he was at work and I love hearing any stories about my father.

A few days ago I received a very unexpected thank you note from a friend of my father’s that included a very sweet, very personal note about my father. It made me smile, it made me feel somewhat comforted and I tucked it away in a box filled with other pieces of memorabilia that reminds me of my father.

When I was very young I hid this box from the world, afraid others would think it was crazy. It contained very few relics from when my father was alive, but many pieces that have reminded me of him since his death.

A gift made in elementary school that served as a father’s day gift for everyone else in the class but now sits safely in my box, among other items. Back then I called it my “daddy box.” But, after taking out a hefty loan for a college degree I feel the need to refer to it in a more clinical sense, so I call it my Continuing Bonds box.

Continuing Bonds in very brief terms is the theory that our bond with our loved ones does not die with them, it continues on as we live our lives.

There is a wonderful book by Dennis Klass, Phyllis Silverman, and Steven Nickman that can be found here:
http://www.amazon.com/Continuing-Bonds-Understandings-Education-Health/dp/1560323396
The book is a wealth of knowledge on grief at many different stages and if it is a topic you’re interested in I strongly suggest it.

These retirement events are part of a continuing bond that I keep with my father that develops as I grow up. They serve as reminders of things my father enjoyed that I now enjoy and they give me more precious memories to hold on to and they give me a sense that I am not alone in missing my father.

It is important to foster these bonds with children. Immediately after the death these bonds can serve as an emotional safety net, somewhat of a comradery in grief for the same beloved person. Further down the line they can help the child’s relationship with their loved one mature as the child matures.

This year marks fifteen years since my father died, I’ve lived almost three times as long without him as I ever did with him, but still my memory box continues to grow, and for me at least it always will.

-Liz Hendrickson

Related articles

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Reprise #643

As always, simply lovely!

Bliss Blog

In

 the

 fullness

 of

 Being

 which

 is

 presence – Self,

 it

 can

 be

 seen

 that

 there

 was

 never

 any

 need

 for

 Mudra, Mantra, Yantra or Tantra.

.

.

.

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Ahhhhh, I had no Easter post, so may I steal this one…

Legendary Post

Easter Cometh

May Your Eggs Be Bright and Numerous

May Your Chocolate Be Deep, Dark, or Milky

May The One’s You Truly Love Be Oh So Near

May The Children You Know Glow In Excitement

May There Be Ham, Potato Salad, Lemonade And Potato Chips Uh Plenty (Unless You’re a Vegetarian, In which case may there be a Tofu Shaped Pig)

May Joy, Love, Peace, And Happiness Rain Upon You

We’re Truly Happy To Know All of You

From DarkJade & The Dark Globe Crew

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homage to Peeps

For sharing love and peeps with us!
Much joy to you all

born by a river

My mother loved Peeps.  Yes, Peeps.  Everyone’s top pick for the Creepiest Easter Candy Award. These often-stale, flourescent products of modern science were never my favorite.  I remember a student in high school fixed one of the marshmallow birds on his locker door, where it hardened and stayed mounted there for months, beady eyes staring out into space like a trophy kill from CandyLand.

They always brought a smile to my mom’s face, though.  I can still hear her purr “Oh, Peeps!  I just love Peeps!”

This morning, I was remembering her affection for Peeps and thinking how I hadn’t seen a single Peep all year, and here it was the day before Easter.  They don’t tend to be stocked in the earthy-crunchy places I frequent. Then, I went to a concert this evening, ordered myself an amazing crepe from a street vendor, and low and behold, it was garnished…

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