Friday, May 29, 2015
You’ve probably heard people say, ‘the first year is the hardest’, this is true, and the second year may be no picnic either. It is also true that at some point things should get easier. The symptoms fade and acute grief is replaced by less frequent moments of sadness, anger, and frustration. You will still have bad days, but you will know things are getting better when they are outnumbered by ‘okay’ days.
This does not mean you are ‘getting over it’, moving on, or forgetting. An important part of healing is discovering the role your loved one will play in your life after their death. Of course at first you hold on very tight, afraid if you let go your loved one will disappear completely. You hold on to items (not crazy), you leave rooms untouched (not crazy), you pay their cell phone bill so you can continue to hear their voice on their voicemail (not crazy). These things are not crazy and some of them you may continue to do forever, but some you will eventually let go of as your grip slowly loosens and you realize that nothing short of amnesia could make you really let go.
And slowly…slowly…the faded colors of life become more vibrant. The world unthaws and you start to find beauty peeking through in places you would never have expected it. Your season of grief has left you weary but stronger and as you walk out onto the sunlit path you glance back as the form of the person you used to be disappears. You know you will never be the same and you begin to accept that you must integrate your loved one and your experiences and continue to live…a little bit wary, a little bit wise, and a little bit crazy…
My name is Lynn.
Last year, our son passed away suddenly and unexpectedly. He had a massive asthma attack, and was gone within two hours in the emergency room. He was 31, our only son, and he left behind a fiancé and an 18 month old son named Jack <3 .
In spite of being surrounded by love and support, I walked around in a state of profound sorrow. I went to work, but that was all I could do. I would have to stop my car on the side of the road because I couldn't see through the tears. I screamed my primal screams where no one could hear me. I screamed my throat raw. As soon as I got home, I was a zombie.
My sister booked us a cabin last summer for us and her for a week in the Adirondacks. We spent our childhood summers on a lake in Maine, so she thought it would bring us some happiness. I bought two notebooks to write our travel notes in. I thought I would put some uplifting quotes, photos, pictures throughout her book as a surprise. By the time I finished, the book was already twice its size. She absolutely LOVED the book, and she could not believe how beautifully I had put it together. A gift for Lilly became a gift to myself as well. I made my notebook, and put sad and happy, dark and light, hope and hopeless quotes, pictures, art, etc. all throughout. It made me feel...somewhat lighter, and cleansed.
And, so I began.
I had never even heard of "Art Journaling", or mixed media! I didn’t even know about acrylics, nevermind how to USE them! Until, while searching on Pinterest for video tutorials on collaging, I found…….a treasure trove of videos and information on all kinds of art, and a wonderful community of artists who were informative and encouraging.
My first work was dark and I cried while I created. But, even though I am still making more dark art than light, and that's okay. Because it is all a part of the process of coming out of the darkness, and into the light.
I use Frankie's Room as my studio now. I feel him looking over my shoulder with his beautiful smile.
I still grieve.
I am sad.
I am angry.
I am changed forever.
I will always feel the horrible loss of my beautiful son. I still feel adrift in an open sea. But, my art brings me closer to a safe harbor. I found art in the midst of tragedy, and in doing so, found a lifeboat in the dark waters.
Last year, our son passed away suddenly and unexpectedly. He had a massive asthma attack, and was gone within two hours in the emergency room. He was 31, our only son, and he left behind a fiancé and an 18 month old son named Jack <3 .
In spite of being surrounded by love and support, I walked around in a state of profound sorrow. I went to work, but that was all I could do. I would have to stop my car on the side of the road because I couldn't see through the tears. I screamed my primal screams where no one could hear me. I screamed my throat raw. As soon as I got home, I was a zombie.
My sister booked us a cabin last summer for us and her for a week in the Adirondacks. We spent our childhood summers on a lake in Maine, so she thought it would bring us some happiness. I bought two notebooks to write our travel notes in. I thought I would put some uplifting quotes, photos, pictures throughout her book as a surprise. By the time I finished, the book was already twice its size. She absolutely LOVED the book, and she could not believe how beautifully I had put it together. A gift for Lilly became a gift to myself as well. I made my notebook, and put sad and happy, dark and light, hope and hopeless quotes, pictures, art, etc. all throughout. It made me feel...somewhat lighter, and cleansed.
And, so I began.
I had never even heard of "Art Journaling", or mixed media! I didn’t even know about acrylics, nevermind how to USE them! Until, while searching on Pinterest for video tutorials on collaging, I found…….a treasure trove of videos and information on all kinds of art, and a wonderful community of artists who were informative and encouraging.
My first work was dark and I cried while I created. But, even though I am still making more dark art than light, and that's okay. Because it is all a part of the process of coming out of the darkness, and into the light.
I use Frankie's Room as my studio now. I feel him looking over my shoulder with his beautiful smile.
I still grieve.
I am sad.
I am angry.
I am changed forever.
I will always feel the horrible loss of my beautiful son. I still feel adrift in an open sea. But, my art brings me closer to a safe harbor. I found art in the midst of tragedy, and in doing so, found a lifeboat in the dark waters.
I hope that if you are lost in your grief, you can find something that helps you to heal. Something that can start to bring even the tiniest bit of joy back into your life.
Art CAN do that.
Believe me, I am absolutely NOT an artist, and never thought that I would be up to my elbows in paint, crying and creating. And, so grateful that I didn't let my lack of talent stop me. Anything you create.....IS art!
Art saves.
I am living proof.
Thanks for listening.
Lynn
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