Infographic Template Galleries

Created with Fabric.js 1.4.5 DEATH - The Uninvited Guest I learned how to pronounce funeral when I was 7.My dad dad passed away suddenly in a helicopter accident and my mom explained to me that we would be having a funeral and sitting shiva.few-ner-al, I would say to some friends as we walked to the park at the end of our culdisacked street. "We're having a funeral and then everyone's coming over to eat desert and play," I told them, which is what I took from my mom's explanation of a funeral.This was in May of 1992, and our family had just moved into this house a few months before in February, so it was still new enough that the upgrade to having a park and our really close friends the Grummans on our same block had not worn off yet. The day of the funeral, I remember feeling shy and flustered by all the attention I was receiving by everyone there.It was like we were the hosts of a party that I wanted nothing to do with - I hated that everyone seemed sad and was crying at the service...I didn't cry, just leaned on my mom as she wrapped us in her arms.Back at our house to kick off the shiva, things started to look up. The desserts were out and there was no shortage of variety. My friends all came over and we were all allowed to play for a few days as much as we wanted.Most of the time was spent up at the park. We would leave and my mom and a small group would be crying and we would often return to the sound of cackles of the Passoff siblings or a close friend of the family.It made no sense to me, but I was ready to go back to normal already.I started sleeping in bed with my mom...and didn't go back to my own bed for around 6 months.School was almost out and when I started again in the fall, PTSD caused me to lose my vision.As I got older I decided I was ready to work through the grieving process to just get it over with already. I was so sick of all the same memories and information I obtained obsessively on repeat, like that traumatic even was just gonna Groundhog day in my brain forever.I kinda gave up...but things started to unravel in the rest of me life in 2013 after the death of my dear friend Lauren Winkler, and the trauma of her being in a plane crash triggered things behavior and emotions that I experienced as a 7 year old.It caused me to really remember how I survived my dads death at age 7. My brain regressed - never developed there.Then in the months after this, it was almost as if I grieved like an adolesent, then a teenager and so forth. But have still felt stuck.I do feel as if right now as my mom is faced with the grief of the loss of her father, I am doing the work as an adult finally. Trying to take care of her as much as shes taking care of me.The fire keeper of our lives is unknown to us, our flame is out of our control as much as we try to control. As people age.. but SUdden Death is impossible to make sense of. Although we didnt have a traditional Shiva, think of this holiday as the opportunity to let us walk with you and share the loss. Allow us to feed you, nourish you, help you stay afloat.THe only miracle medicine we have is each other Clarissa Pinkola EstesOral history and stories that we need to record and keep sharing.Suggest an activity over the weekend - everyone write in a book.grandpa came in for super star dayGrandpa was psychicSweet toothMatching birth marksWind chimes Grandparents day shivalost vision sleepovershds parkgrandpa did superstarstanlauren winkgrandpa - cremationwind chimesDeath is a trigger; it reminds us of all our other losses. Its as if we each hold a memory box close to our heart which is usually closed. Yet, with a new loss, the box springs open with our personal well spring pg grief and sorrow. There is a parade of visceral memories and sensations. In life, we do not forget death.Unlived life casts a pall over everything - young person deathDeath = an uninvited guestWonder how they could ever survive so and sos loss situationSudden death hits like an enormous, sucker punch to the gut.And you try to make sense of it all; you retrace your steps. You race back to the very last connection you shared...The everyday words, the daily connections seem so trivial and unimportant given the enormity of the loss, but they are the connective tissue of life.Whenever and whatever those points of intersection, you want to remember it all -- in vivid, painstaking detail... you take these memories and spread them out in your mind as a map of your life with them...
Create Your Free Infographic!