I went for a job interview as a masseuse the other day. I am trying to wear my 'big girl pants' these days, so when she asked me to tell her a little bit about myself, I said. 'I'm 53, an author, a widow, and I've love massage and what it does for others....'
She cocked her head to one side and said to me, 'Sorry, could you repeat that?'
Now, although I am 'admitting' I am a widow, this part of my speech is said with such speed, you need supersonic hearing to be able to 'catch the words'.
I repeated everything, except the widow bit, and she said 'No, you said something else, what was it?'
I 'fessed up and told her the bit I had omitted. She gave me that 'look' that people do and said she was sorry. I tend to get flippant when people say things like that. I am a complex creature, I admit it! I don't want others to be sorry or feel sorry for me. My life is what it is. The judges decision is final. No correspondence will be entered into. ...and then I wonder sometimes if I would just consider others to be hard hearted bastards for not saying anything... It hasn't happened yet, so maybe that will be the subject of another blog...
Anyway, back to my 'interview'. The woman asked me a question. 'So what did you learn from his living, and his dying?'
May I say that these are so not the questions one expects in a job interview, and as a person still going through a grief expedition, not at all something I wanted to contemplate with a complete stranger.
Before long, she had me in tears. She knew which buttons to push, what direction to twist the knife that is my grief and how to make me feel as if I wasn't coping with my world at all. When I tried to stop the flow of tears, she told me I needed to 'sob'.
...as if I haven't...on countless occasions!
We were sitting in a coffee shop and there was no way I wanted to let this woman see how her harsh words were affecting me. I gathered my thoughts, pulled myself up tall, erected my protective wall and tried to get myself together again.
Recognising that she had crossed a line and that she wasn't going to get past that wall I had just put up between us, she said 'Well, thats enough counselling for you today. Now, lets talk about why you want to get a job here.'
There was really no point in going any further. There is no way I would work for someone who would want to find my Achilles heel, who would know just how to create pain within my world because she could.
She tried to create a connection by telling me that her son had passed away 8 years ago, but clearly the way I was going through or handling my grief was incorrect and she hadn't experienced it in the way I had. Read: I was wrong.
As I was leaving, she turned to me and said 'Well, no matter what happens, we were meant to meet today. I was meant to talk to you and you were meant to learn from me.'
And you know what, she was right. I was meant to learn from her, and I learnt this.
*A part of 'putting on my big girl panties' during my grief expedition does not entail telling anyone I am a widow, unless its relative.
*There will always be people who will try to tell me that my way of handling my grief is wrong or not right.
*I don't want to work for anyone who's main objective is to make me feel 'less than', so they can feel all powerful.
*Everyone has a story, but their story ain't my story and mine has no bearing on theirs.
*I still find it difficult to talk openly about my grief with others
*I am doing a great job being who I am and experiencing my grief in my own unique way.
Everyone has a story
Big hugs
Cherie xx

I've been really sick this week. What started out as a virus became quite severe and I was laid up in bed for three days. I rarely get sick, and to lie around when I am is not usually something I do willingly.
It began as I did the final proofread of my book on grief (Grieving With Honour). I started coughing, and the more I read, the more incessant my cough became.
Day two was particularly bad and I lay there, just wanting it all to be over. I'd had enough of the pain both within and without my body.
I asked my friend Karen for some distant healing and she told me that what was going on with me was to do with my gief book.
In the early hours of Friday morning, I was shown, in a dream, one of the chapters of my book. I awoke, knowing my body was rememberinga moment in time four years ago.
The anniversary of Butch's passing is in September, which brings in all sorts of emotions and feelings. However, on a cellular level, my body remembers the day Butch told me he didn't want to fight to live anymore, that he was ready to 'go'.
A piece of me died that day, as I realised he was preparing to die.
Each year, around the same dat, I receive an anniversary reminder from my body.
The first year, I had huge acid burns and blisters appear on my body. Tears I cried were also acidic and burnt trails down my face.
The second year I developed a rash that burned like acid and also blistered my skin. I just wanted to peel all my skin off to get some relief.
Last year I got really sick with a combination of acid rash and chest pains, similar to a panic attack.
There were other symptoms as well, like a deep-seated pain in my kidneys, constriction in my chest and stomach cramps each anniversary.
Each one has peaked on the same date and resulted in me wanting to be 'put out of my misery' and asking my guides to please 'take me home'! And each one has begun to dissipate each time I realise what it is and acknowledge my cellular as well as my emotional grief. (it's just a shame I don't 'get' what is happening until after the peak!)
It's important we are in tune with our bodies, that we listen to the messages it has for us. When we feel fear in our kidneys, grief in our lungs, anxiety in our stomach, a sore throat as we swallow words we feel we cannot say or sore ears when we are being told what we don't want to hear, we need to acknowledge and accept these as times when our bodies are saying 'Remember when...?' or 'Enough! It's time to take action!'
There are many events in our life that our cells remember, and we need to notice if what we are felling is a 'present' issue or a gentle reminder!
love Cherie xx

04/08/11 - The other night I dreamt about Butch, I relived his gradual deterioration and passing once again. This isn't the first time I have had this dream, but this time it was slightly different. I had the opportunity to say all those things I wish I'd said before he lost the ability to answer. It was an incredibly sad dream and I felt like I was experiencing the whole grieving process again. When I awoke I was devastated. I would have been quite happy to just lay there and wallow in the awfulness of it all.
In this dream I remember telling him that losing him the first time was incredibly hard, that my world imploded and I could find no reason to carry on. He looked at me with such love as tears rolled down his face and I promised I would try harder this time.
Reality was a different scenario, I woke up so heavy with my sadness and grief I could barely function. The pain permeated my soul and I spent a fair amount of time 'washing out my eyes' from within.
All day I felt 'out of sorts'. I couldn't focus or feel. By the end of the day, I was relieved to go to bed and stop the perpetual
loop it felt like I was in.It is only now I can see the positive in this dream where, in the altered reality of my mind, I had the opportunity to say all those things I regretted I never had a chance to say to Butch. On reflection it was a more positive than negative experience, I just had to look past the sadness to see that.
When someone we love passes away, it doesn't seem to matter how much we talk beforehand or how much we understand and love each other, we can still feel as if some things have been left unsaid. The unfortunate thing is we can't just pick up a telephone, tell them and feel that sense of closure. For some, like me, it can mean the recurrence of an event through dreams until we can release the pent up emotion we have been clutching at. It was  easier for me to suppress my emotions, to beat myself up and as a consequence feel unnecessary guilt.
If I was to be realistic, I would say, in grief there is always something we hold on to that can prevent us from moving forward or moving on...but perhaps that is just my truth. I know I have a few more issues to work through yet. (my motto must be 'why hold onto one thing, when you can fit so much into two hands...?)