Grief – Page 3 – Andrea Arthur Owan

How to Grieve Well: Successful Steps to Completing Your Grief Healing—Part 7

FEW THINGS are more life altering or heart damaging than the death of a spouse, family member, treasured friend or loved one. Even the death of a not-so-loved one can be destabilizing. We need to have the tools to deal with the myriad emotions surrounding these kinds of deaths.

And that’s what we’ll focus on today: the loss and grief that accompanies death, and the emotional energy and relationship reviews involved with it.

The basics of loss and grief—

There are important things we need to keep in mind about grief.

Never, ever compare losses. And never, ever compare how you assimilate a loss/death to how someone else assimilates it.
No losses are comparable.
Grief is all about relationships. Because of that fact, never compare relationships.
The keys to loss and grief recovery are acknowledging the uniqueness of each and every relationship.
Beware that your personal relationship with the person who has died can affect your ability to help someone else with their grief over that same person’s death.
Death almost always triggers a painful awareness of the end of any hopes, dreams, and expectations you had about the future with the person who died. Do not be surprised when those emotions arise, which they sometimes do like a tidal wave.
The death of a relative does not dictate the depth or degree of a person’s grief or emotional energy output over the loss.
People are complex, which makes relationships complex. Because of those truths, you will likely experience very mixed emotions—both negative and positive—about a loved one’s or family member’s death. These mixed emotions can be a source of anxiety, frustration, or joy. It requires discipline and bravery to confront, wrestle with and untangle some of them.

Relationship reviews with people who have died—

Again, I cannot stress it enough that your relationship with the deceased person is your relationship, a unique one that cannot be compared to anyone else’s relationship to that person.

The emotions associated with that unique relationship are the legacy of both the time you’ve spent with that person and the intensity of your relationship with them.

So when you’re making an assessment of the relationship—your relationship review—you’re considering and exploring your emotions wrapped up in that relationship.

Your feelings are driven by special events, memories, words spoken and unspoken, negative and positive interactions that occurred between you and the deceased. In short, your history together.

What drives the emotional energy in the grieving survivor—

Many issues, events and experiences drive the emotional energy displayed in your grief.

One significant issue is just how close and invested you were in the relationship with the deceased. The intensity of your relationship will drive the emotional energy you experience at their death.

The closer and deeper your relationship, the more likely you’ll experience some pretty extreme nervous, emotional energy.

Conversely, if the relationship wasn’t close, emotionally or physically, (as in intimacy or proximity), the emotional energy output won’t be as extreme.

This is often the case with siblings who may have far different experiences and emotional relationships with a parent that has died. One sibling may have felt and been extremely close to a parent, while another had a strained or distant relationship with them. Because of these significant differences, each sibling’s emotional energy responses will look entirely different. And the one with the closer relationship will likely grieve more deeply.

However, if the child with the distant, strained relationship feels as though there is a lot of unfinished business between him and his deceased parent, there may be a lot of complex and difficult energy experienced.

Whatever the response is, though, it will be accurate and valid for each sibling.

Remember, their incomparable experience is their incomparable experience. Big or little, each experience is unique, and valid.

So do not feel guilty if your emotional energy output is less than someone else’s over a familiar or family member death. Do not be afraid to feel or express your emotional truth, and let someone else express theirs. Encourage everyone to express their unique, distinct relationship reviews and feelings.

What if the family member who died was “less than a loved one?”

I think we can all attest to the fact that not all family relationships are warm, loving, and good. Some are really horrible. Others are mixed, at best. And our responses to death will reflect that.

Please be willing to accept that not all parents and children have perfect, storybook ending relationships. Because of this reality, don’t try to make something of the relationship that wasn’t real or true when going through the relationship review process. Don’t kid yourself.

While you can, and should, take actions of forgiveness, and stand back and see and assess events more clearly as an adult, you should not whitewash the relationship or re-write it.

Remember and note the good times, if there were any; and be honest about the bad times. Don’t inflate or deflate them; just be honest about them.

Rejoice. Or forgive.

Write your story with the person you’re saying goodbye to, not someone else’s version. And don’t let them write yours.

If you don’t feel comfortable sharing your review and sentiments, regrets and heartfelt statements with a close family member, because you know it will be met with unfair criticism or correction (based on their relationship point of view) don’t. Relay your story to someone else—a trusted friend, therapist, trained chaplain or Stephen Minister, or sympathetic listening ear.

Overall goal of a relationship review—

You had a unique relationship with the one who died. Your goal or task is to uncover what has been left unfinished or incomplete in your unique relationship with that person.

So be forthright. Be proactive. Be diligent in digging for those grief recovery treasures.

In the end, it will make all the difference in the world for you—physically, emotionally and spiritually.

Invitation—

Can you identify any unfinished emotions or emotions you tried to tamp down or ignore after the death of a loved one or family member? Write them down.
What relationships have you, or did you try to whitewash with excuses or condoning?
Which family members have you still not forgiven and need to forgive, even if they are deceased?
Start thinking about how you would write your story with the deceased person—from beginning to end—with all the plot twists, harrowing experiences, tensions, joys and triumphs worked into it. (Don’t worry. We’re writing a short story.)

NEXT WEEK: We’ll look at some specifics in an emotional energy checklist in preparation for writing our relationship review story.

Until then, think about how you want your family to write their story of their relationship with you. Anything you’d like to change? Any forgiving or apologies that need to happen to make their story with you happier?

Blessings,

Andrea.

“Beloved, I pray that you prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers” (3 John).

Andrea Arthur Owan, M.S., A.T., R., is a fitness pro, speaker, award-winning inspirational writer, memoirist, and senior-ordained chaplain (IFOC). She mentors people in how to thrive physically, emotionally, and spiritually, and recover from grief, loss and trauma.

How to Grieve Well: Successful Steps to Completing Your Grief Healing—Part 6

IN OUR RECENT GRIEF RECOVERY discussions, we’ve looked at the significance of apologies and forgiveness. Today we’ll look at how significant emotional statements fit into the successful relationship review and grief pain completion.

Significant emotional statements: otherwise known as really important stuff you need to say.

What is a significant emotional statement?

A significant emotional statement (SES) is defined as anything of emotional value that doesn’t count as an apology or forgiveness. It’s any comment communicating something important; anything important that was said or left unsaid before someone died, or before a significant relationship (marriage, friendship) ended.

Examples of significant emotional statements—

A SES could be statements like:

You were such a good husband, who made me laugh and enjoy life.
I wish that we would have been given more time together.
I wish you would have gone to the doctor sooner. Maybe treatment given sooner would have helped.
I love you, and I know how much you loved me.
I’m grateful for the full life we lived together.
I loved your belly laughs and loving eyes and touch.
I’ll miss having breakfast with you every morning, praying with you and discussing our plans for the day.
I’ll miss lying in bed with you, holding one another, thanking God for the blessings in our life.
I wish we had done a better job of making this marriage work.
I thought our marriage was for better or for worse; that we’d be together until death do us part.
I don’t know what happened for you to end our friendship. I wish you’d tell me so I could make it right.

Significant emotional statements are statements conveying your emotional attachments or a feeling, regret, love, desire, hope and expectation.

It’s anything you feel should have been said or should be communicated now.

Every relationship is unique, to you—

Understanding and appreciating that every relationship is unique to a person is important, and it affects your significant emotional statements and the statements of others grieving the loss of the same person.

How often have you told a story and your significant other or sibling loudly proclaims: “No, that’s not how it happened!” And they proceed to tell their version of the story and correct yours.

But that’s the point. It’s usually their version of the story they’re telling. Their personal memories, from their point of view. And their emphasis on events and feelings is likely to be much different than yours; their experience will be different.

A grieving son will have different emotional experiences about his father than his grieving mother has about her husband. The grieving sister will have different feelings than her grieving brother.

We need to be extra careful not to plant our feelings into the hearts and minds of others grieving the same loss. Or plant feelings of a loss we’ve experienced into the hearts and minds of a friend’s loss.

The death of one mother’s child will not be experienced the same way the death of another mother’s child will be felt.

When significant emotional statements need to be followed by forgiving ones—

You’ll find that some significant emotional statements should naturally be followed up with apologies or forgiving statements. Let’s look at some of the above examples.

I love you, and I know how much you loved me, might be followed by “I should have told you more how much you meant to me. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

I wish we had done a better job of making this marriage work. This might have the statement: “I’m sorry for being unforgiving and not working harder on our marriage.” Or: “I forgive you for giving up so easily on us.”

The point is that if a negative statement is made, it should be followed up with a statement of forgiveness. Only then will grief completion be possible.

What about fond memories—

By all means, put fond memories on the list and make statements about them.

They could be thank you statements, specific memories of good times, significant life events. Things you especially appreciated about the person’s character or personality.

Is a significant emotional statement the end of it?

So you’ve written down a list of statements. Is that it? Are you done?

Not quite. We have to put all of these statements together, and remember that just because we do it successfully doesn’t mean we’ll never think about, talk about, or long for the person again.

BUT BEWARE!

Do not skip the forgiveness statements. An unforgiving spirit and withholding forgiveness “is the largest stumbling block to successful completion of the pain caused by loss.” (Grief Recovery Institute)

As I’ve said before, please don’t fall into the trap of believing that forgiveness condones hurtful behavior. Those thoughts and actions curtail and hinder a potentially lifesaving action.

“A lack of forgiveness always imprisons the wrong person.”

I would add that it always damages your heart.

It leaves you in the state of perpetual victimhood, constantly reminding yourself of the painful things, the unfairness of things that happened a very long time ago.

Putting it all together—

Putting all these components together gives you the freedom to move on to and achieve grief completion. It’s the catalyst for healing, like when a surgeon re-sets a bone to straighten it out so it can heal. And a physical therapist gives you exercises to complete the healing to return you to a full life.

Invitation—

Examine your heart deeply. Are there people in your life you haven’t truly forgiven for their actions? How can you take concrete and effectual steps today to do that?
Is there someone you’ve recently lost who you wanted to say something more to, either before their passing or now? Write these down.
Is there someone you’ve lost to death or lost as a friend that you can and would like to make a significant emotional statement to? Write those statements down.
This can be a time of wonderful memories flooding your heart and mind. Even if they cause you to grieve again, consider the fond memories blessings of a life well lived.

NEXT WEEK: Moving from discovery to completion!

Until then, write down those significant, fond memories and add them to your apologies and forgiving statements.

Blessings,

Andrea

“Beloved, I pray that you prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers” (3 John).

Andrea Arthur Owan, M.S., A.T., R., is a fitness pro, speaker, award-winning inspirational writer, memoirist, and senior-ordained chaplain (IFOC). She mentors people in how to thrive physically, emotionally, and spiritually, and recover from grief, loss and trauma.

How to Grieve Well: Successful Steps to Complete Your Grief Healing—Part 5

LAST WEEK IN OUR SERIES on doing a relationship review to complete your grief healing, we talked about the importance of apologies in successfully completing your grief process. This week we’ll explore forgiveness.

Forgiveness. Even the word can make people cringe and feel queasy and defensive. It’s not always an easy thing to give to someone, and it’s a healing component a lot of people get stuck at and resist doing.

But I can’t stress enough it’s importance.

How important is forgiveness in grief and loss recovery?

Forgiveness is usually a critical element to completing unfinished and incomplete emotions attached to any relationship you have throughout your life. Someone is bound to hurt you—sometimes horrifically, so; and you are bound to hurt another person. It’s unavoidable. We’re sinful people with myriad wants, needs, greeds and hang-ups.

Relationships are overrun by sensitive natures, life experiences and prejudices about life topics. Misunderstandings and misinterpretations abound.

It doesn’t help that society’s definitions and concepts of forgiveness are often hidden landmines that complicate the process, as are the reasons behind forgiving someone and what to expect after forgiveness is given.

But why is forgiveness such a critical element?

Read on to find out.

Basic definition of forgiveness—

The psychologists at the Greater Good Science Center at University of California—Berkeley define forgiveness as:

“A conscious, deliberate decision to release feelings of resentment or vengeance toward a person or group who has harmed you, regardless of whether they actually deserve your forgiveness.”

Look at the key words in their definition:

Conscious
Deliberate (decision)
Release (of feelings)

A conscious, deliberate release. The process is action-oriented, not passive.

And then please take note: forgiving someone has nothing to do with whether or not the recipient of your forgiveness actually deserves it.

And that’s where people get really stuck, to a point where not forgiving or being unable or unwilling to forgive negatively affects their life.

Does “forgive” mean “condone”?

This is where a lot of people get hung up emotionally and spiritually, thinking forgive equates to condoning.

Does it?

Absolutely not!

Forgive does NOT equate to condone.

Ever.

And just because you forgive someone does not mean you reconcile or re-establish a relationship with the person you’re forgiving.

Let’s look at their different definitions, as given in Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary:

Forgive—

1 : to cease to feel resentment against (an offender)

2a : to give up resentment of or claim to requital (compensation or retaliation)

Condone—

: to regard or treat (something bad or blameworthy) as acceptable or harmless.

: or dismiss as of little importance

Webster’s Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary defines it as: to treat as if trivial, harmful, or of no importance.

So should you treat horrific behavior that demoralized or physically or emotionally harmed you as something you should condone, regardless of the offender’s relationship to you?

No.

But if we focus on the definition of forgive, and the critical reasons for it, we’ll be heading in the right direction.

The dangers of harboring resentment and having an unforgiving heart—

If you decide you can’t or won’t forgive someone, what’s the harm to you, or the other person?

Actually, there’s likely no harm to them. They’re usually not the ones suffering for their behavior.

But before we go one, let’s look at one more definition.

Resentment:

“… a feeling of indignant displeasure or persistent ill will at something regarded as a wrong, insult, or injury.”

I especially want you to focus on the persistent ill will part of the definition.

Continuous. Unrelenting. Never-ending. Ongoing.

In other words, something that nags at you. Affects your behavior and thoughts. Drags you down. Drives you nuts. Dogs you. And likely compromises your emotional and physical health.

And therein lies the problem.

The un-forgiver, not the perpetrator, is the one that suffers.

As the Grief Recovery Institute points out, and which is so true and substantiated by life and Scripture, is that:

“Any resentment etched into the memory of events that occurred in the past will limit and restrict [your] ability to participate fully in life. Any reminder of the person or event about which the resentment exists may stimulate a painful reliving of the unfinished emotions attached to it. Successful recovery requires completion of the pain rather than retention of the resentment.” (my italics)

By clutching on to your resentment, you’re forever reliving the perpetrator’s act and re-experiencing the pain.

And if the perpetrator has died, constantly reliving it—and feeling all the pain and anger surrounding it—doesn’t hurt the deceased person. It only hurts you.

You’re hurting you. Repeatedly. Over and over and over again.

If that’s what’s happening, it’s impossible for you to live a life of joy and healthy productivity.

You won’t thrive.

There’s no debating that sometimes people’s actions are insensitive, careless, thoughtless, mean, vengeful or downright evil. But if you don’t forgive them, you will never be truly free mentally, physically, emotionally or spiritually.

May I be blunt?

Forgiveness should not be looked upon as the “F” word.

Forgiveness is often an action first, feeling second—

Sometimes you may feel compelled to offer someone forgiveness. Your heart just feels as though it’s overflowing with mercy and grace.

Other times, not so much.

In those difficult, not-so-much times, consider forgiveness to be the first-step action. Then, if your forgiveness is sincere and verbally stated, the feelings will follow.

Just hearing yourself say “I forgive you for…” out loud is enough to change your heart and mind as your action and words form an imprint on your brain.

It breaks open that dam holding in the stagnant resentment and lets it escape.

It cleanses your heart. It prompts healing to occur. It reduces physical, emotional and spiritual stress.

You can extend forgiveness for something someone did or for something they did not do.

I can forgive my father for not telling me how radiant I was on my wedding day, insisting that I focus on my mother and tell her how lovely she looked. But it wasn’t her day. It was mine. Neither of them seemed to appreciate that. When I descended the church stairs to take my dad’s arm and begin the processional, that was the comment he hit me with.

It broke my heart.

But his thoughtlessness didn’t need to break my heart for the rest of my life.

He never realized or acknowledged his omission or commission, so I didn’t confront him or ask for his forgiveness (a subject we’ll get to in just a minute), but I have made a forgiving statement directed toward his memory out loud and to my husband, because it’s important for someone else to hear it (a subject we’ll also cover in more detail in other posts).

It frees my heart to let that go. And it gives me extra real estate in my brain to construct happy memories.

And there are many other, more grievous events and words, I have forgiven both my parents for.

What about “I can forgive, but I can’t forget”?

Because their thoughts on this are so clear, true and concise, I’m going to quote Grief Recovery Institute.

“The implication of “I can forgive, but I can’t forget” is that “since I cannot forget, I will not forgive. The real questions are: Who stays an emotional prison cell? Who continues to resent and shut down their own mind, body, and heart? Whose life is limited by the absence of forgiveness?”

Clearly, the perpetrator is not the one suffering.

Should you ask a living person for forgiveness?

While asking for forgiveness and giving an apology seem identical, they’re really not. Let’s look closely at the two.

When you focus on giving an apology, you’re recognizing and admitting to your poor or grievous behavior and taking full responsibility for it.

And you’re leaving the forgiveness up to the person you’ve harmed, which is their right to give, or not.

However, when you approach the problem and person with: “Please forgive me for…” you’re already telling them you have an expectation for their reciprocating behavior. It’s really a manipulative technique, and one that puts the potential forgiver in an uncomfortable situation.

And they may say they forgive you without really meaning it.

I once had a friend say to me: “You’ll need to extend me grace on that,” when I said to her “I haven’t seen you in a while,” at a wedding reception. It struck me as an odd, somewhat flippant comment that was intended to shut down any further discussion about it. And she said it with a smile, which told me she really wasn’t apologizing for her silence.

I hadn’t said it with an accusatory tone, or even expected any explanation. I just nodded.

Don’t ask the person to do something that you need to do, with forthrightness and conviction. Take action, and allow the other person time to consider your actions.

After offering an apology for the specific action or inaction, you might follow up by saying, “I hope you can forgive me.” Then leave it up to them.

Should you tell someone you’ve forgiven her when she hasn’t apologized?

Telling someone you forgive them when they haven’t apologized is a danger to be avoided at all cost.

Why?

Because your statement is likely to be considered an attack.

And if they haven’t apologized, the person you’ve forgiven doesn’t need to know you’ve forgiven them.

This is what happens in forgiving someone who is deceased. You won’t be speaking directly to them, so they won’t know. You’ll know.

And that’s enough.

Don’t be trapped in your past by an unforgiving heart—

Again, forgiving someone doesn’t mean you’re condoning bad or dangerous behavior.

It’s disengaging your heart from the ugly past and allowing yourself to move forward, fully engaged in and with life.

It’s the best way to “let go.” To “cease to feel resentment.”

It gives you your best shot at a thriving, healthy life!

How does God fit in to forgiveness?

I love knowing that when I repent, God forgives me. And I remember that He promises that as far as the east is from the west, He will remember my sin no more. That gives me comfort and the impetus to repent and feel cleansed.

While we’re human, and it seems impossible for us to cast away our memories, remember that nothing is impossible with God. If you’re having difficulty in this area, ask Him for help. He’ll faithfully provide.

And we can remember what our precious Lord Jesus had to say about this when He taught the disciples to pray to the Father:

“…forgive us our trespasses,

as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

That section of what is commonly referred to as “The Lord’s Prayer” always gives me pause and makes me ask myself:

“Is there anyone I haven’t forgiven?”

If I have not—and I don’t—then I stifle my relationship with God. I don’t and can’t receive all the blessings He has for me. I tie His hands from giving them to me.

Am I willing to put a wedge between God and me, just to hang onto my justified resentment? To forgo His blessings and hamper our relationship?

I think not.

I hope not.

Jesus had something else to say about this forgiveness stuff and how important it is to God and your relationship with Him. In Matthew 5, verses 23 and 24, He instructs His followers:

“This is how I want you to conduct yourself in these matters. If you enter your place of worship and, about to make an offering, you suddenly remember a grudge a friend has against you, abandon your offering, leave immediately, go to this friend and make things right. Then and only then, come back and work things out with God” (The Message).

If forgiveness is important to God, it should be important to us.

Does that make it easy? No. We’re human. It’s hard.

But remembering what the Lord spoke on the cross, when He asked the Father to forgive the people who put Him to death because they didn’t know what they were doing, should make it easier.

I hope you can and will use Jesus as your example when freely offering forgiveness to others, no matter what their sin.

Countless lives have been destroyed or rendered fruitless and pain-riddled by the inability or stubborn refusal to complete their relationships with past painful events, by refusing to forgive and free themselves from the events.

Please don’t let that be you.

Invitation—

Is there anyone in your life you know you’ve harmed by a careless word or deed that you need to apologize to?
Has anyone harmed you and hasn’t apologized for the harm they did?
Who and what is that harm? What kind of effect did it have on you physically, emotionally, and spiritually?
If the person is alive, and you haven’t yet forgiven them, I invite you to pray for them. It’s very difficult, if not nearly impossible, to feel anger toward a person you’re praying for. Start there, and you may find it easier to move to the forgiveness stage.
Think and pray about how un-forgiveness has affected your life, is affecting it now. Ask yourself if you really want to continue living with the grudge you’re holding.
Has anyone asked for your forgiveness and you really haven’t given it? Why not? What steps could you take today to make that happen, to free your soul?
If the person is deceased, write down specific “I forgive you for…” and “I’m sorry for…” statements to that person. Be specific. Openly state your misdeed. We’ll use these when we write the complete Relationship Review letter in a few weeks.

Before you go, enjoy the songs by Matthew West and Kevin LeVar.

NEXT WEEK: a look at significant emotional statements and how they fit into the relationship review and grief completion.

Until then,

Remember that forgiving is not condoning; and err on the side of forgiveness. For your sake.

Blessings,

Andrea

“Beloved, I pray that you prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers” (3 John).

Andrea Arthur Owan, M.S., A.T., R., is a fitness pro, speaker, award-winning inspirational writer, memoirist, and senior-ordained chaplain (IFOC). She mentors people in how to thrive physically, emotionally, and spiritually, and recover from grief, loss and trauma.

How to Grieve Well: Successful Steps to Complete Your Grief Healing—Part 4

APOLOGY. Defined by Webster’s Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary as “an admission of error or discourtesy accompanied by an expression of regret.”

Something some people wait a lifetime for and never receive.

But it’s a critical component of a grief recovery relationship review. Without it, your recovery won’t ever be truly complete.

And it comes first on the relationship review to-do list.

Apologies—

Heartfelt apologies need to be extended whether you’re apologizing for a sin of commission or omission, or just a plain discourtesy. I’m sure you can think of things you’ve said or done, or not said or done, that you know have been hurtful to others.

You need to apologize for what you wish you’d done or said differently.

The basics of apologies in grief or loss—

If the person you’ve wronged is still living, the apology may be done face-to-face. Sometimes that’s best. But sometimes it’s not possible, and a letter or phone call will suffice. Or an email, or text. But a call or letter is still a preferred method.

Some apologies can’t, or shouldn’t, be given directly, though. Here’s an example of an apology that shouldn’t be given directly.

Suppose you were gathering with friends and, in a fit of meanness, said some nasty things about a family member of yours. While your conscience about that infraction may suffer, it’s not recommended that you get your acquaintance on the phone and tell her what you’ve done, unless she finds out about your transgression through the gossip chain, of course. Then you’d want to seek her out and apologize.

However, it is important that you take that transgression to the Lord and ask His forgiveness for your mean spirit. And you can always confide in someone close that you’ve said those things. Whichever way you choose to do it, it needs to be said to someone, out loud. Write it down and read it, or just speak it out during your prayer or meditation time.

You can think of an apology’s place in grief completion by remembering that:

“Completion is the result of the action of issuing an apology as a verbal statement, heard by at least one other person.” (Grief Recovery Institute)

Apologizing to someone who has died—

We tend to think and believe that death completes what’s left emotionally unfinished about the relationship. The person is gone, so the emotions about past events should end. Let bygones be bygones, right?

Not so. If anything, some of these left-undone emotions become stronger and more life disabling, especially if they’re not addressed and dealt with. Completed.

“We are unfinished in exactly those things that we realize never got said or heard.”

In the course of your grieving, you would likely uncover things that still need to be said, even if that person is gone or out of your life.

Death does not obliterate the need to put an end to what was left unfinished.

So if you’re grieving a death, all unfinished or unsaid emotional statements—think apologies, here—need to be spoken indirectly.

And in order for this relationship review completion to be effective, the apology needs to be spoken to another, trusted confidant.

**What an apology is not—**

I once had a loved one call me with an emotional plea of forgiveness, begging for reconciliation, after weeks (actually months) of leaving nasty phone messages on my phone about how horrible I was, didn’t do what I should be doing as far as she was concerned, and fell woefully short of her expectations.

You would have thought I was thrilled that she apologized without prompting.

Well, yes, and no.

While I was happy she was trying to reconcile, her “apology” wasn’t really an apology. Why?

She didn’t elaborate about what, exactly, she was apologizing for. She simply said, “I’m sorry.” And then added: “You’re all I have. I love you and want you back in my life.”

I should have known better, but without a lot of deep thought or enough prayer, I called her and told her I accepted her apology.

Bad move. And it has continued to cost me in the relationship.

What she was giving me was a desperate “I’m sorry” in order to try to patch up a relationship she felt she needed to patch up—so she wouldn’t be alone.

And I foolishly accepted it, without asking her what, specifically, she was apologizing for. And waiting for her to acknowledge and state it.

And that’s what a bona fide apology is: a statement stating specifically what you are sorry for—an honest and forthright elaboration of what you did wrong, didn’t do that you should have done, or wished you had done. It’s taking responsibility for your actions or inaction and speaking it out loud.

She manipulated me, and by my not pressing her for the details, I didn’t protect myself from future negative interactions. I should have told her how her behavior hurt me or set appropriate boundaries. But that’s another discussion.

An apology is not given to manipulate someone. It’s not a way to extract something you want from someone else.

If you’ve harmed someone, be honest about it. Acknowledging and stating what you’ve done or not done will help you be a more complete, at peace person. It’s a sign of character and maturity.

And remember, no one is obliged to accept an apology. The receiving person’s actions are up to them. It’s out of your control.

The objection is to complete the grief or loss, not manipulate.

Benefits of an apology to a living person—

A heartfelt apology can enhance and deepen a relationship, or expand one. And it clears the giver’s heart and brain of cobwebs.

Sometimes the relationship isn’t repaired or reconciled, but at least you know you’ve done your part and owned up to your shortcomings.

Benefits of an apology to a deceased person—

Plain and simply, the benefit is a clear heart.

Interestingly, one of the first things that floods your heart and mind following a loved one’s death is all the things you didn’t do that you know you should have or wished you had done, and all the things you know you did wrong in the relationship that you wished you’d apologized for.

It seems to hold true for any death, including pets.

For your parent, maybe you didn’t tell them you loved them enough. Didn’t visit enough; call enough. Didn’t tell them how much you appreciated their sacrifices for you.

For a pet, you’re sorry about not spending enough play time with them, not feeding them on time, not cleaning their cat box as often as you should have.

On August 22, when we had to help our younger son’s dog pass over the Rainbow Bridge, I warned my son about the myriad emotions he was likely to be slammed with as soon as the vet pronounced his dog, Hami, gone. “Don’t be surprised if you feel guilty for not having been here enough after leaving for college, for not walking him enough, for ignoring him.”

My 25-year old son nodded, as though he understood.

He didn’t.

One of his first comments to his dad right after Hami passed was: “I didn’t know I’d get swamped with so many emotions and feel so bad.”

He spent a good 15 minutes alone with his beloved dog, weeping, talking to him through his tears, apologizing, stroking and loving him some more. And then he wept again graveside as we prayed and talked about Hami’s wonderful qualities.

And he stood by Hami’s grave several more times, weeping and talking to Hami before leaving the next day to return to college.

And the four of us (his girlfriend included) sat around doing a relationship review of Hami and his life and the impact he had on all of us. Even our older son shared his thoughts and love via a text and phone call, to his brother and to me.

It helped us heal. We’re still healing, but the apologies have been said. And that’s helped our grief completion move forward, to completion.

Actions create completion—

Don’t be fooled. Time doesn’t create completion.

Actions do.

And you can tell whether or not a person has really completed a grief by the stories they tell.

If you hear them tell the same negative stories over and over and over about a deceased person or a severed friendship, or if they are constantly reviewing the relationship, you know their grief has not been completed.

They’re stuck.

Lack of completion compels them to repeat the story over and over.

Does life go on after death or loss?

Yes, life goes on.

There is some truth to believing that we shouldn’t dwell on a negative past.

The problem lies in that we are not usually taught how to move on in life, the constructive steps we need to take to move forward, to regain our footing and live full, productive and completely happy lives.

Apologizing is a critical action step. One we would all do well to learn and practice.

Invitation—

Is there someone you know you need to reach out to with an apology, in order to mend a relationship or clear your damaged heart?
Is there a deceased loved one you harmed that you owe an apology to? I invite you to note that harm or misdeed to use later in a full relationship review letter.
If you’re like me and were raised in a home where apologies were rarely uttered, then you might have difficulty apologizing or recognizing your need to do so. Ask a trusted friend if they notice that tendency in you. And then learn why it’s so important to offer an apology—what it does for you and the receiving person. I encourage you to start practicing it. In time, with practice, it gets easier. J

NEXT WEEK: Forgiveness as part of the complete relationship review.

See you next week!

Blessings,

Andrea

“Beloved, I pray that you prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers” (3 John).


Andrea Arthur Owan, M.S., A.T., R., is a fitness pro, award-winning inspirational writer, memoirist, and senior-ordained chaplain (IFOC). She helps people to thrive physically, emotionally, and spiritually, and recover from grief, loss and trauma.

A Summer of Grieving

Just when my heart felt as though it was healing a bit, pain tore through it again on Saturday, August 22 as we sad goodbye to my younger son’s dog Hami and helped him pass peacefully over the Rainbow Bridge.

We were, and remain, heartbroken. As anyone who has loved and nurtured a canine companion knows, the pet’s passing tears open a wound in your heart and life. Schedules and daily routines are warped. Attention focuses disappear. Wet noses, happy tongue slurps and silky fur strokes disappear. Even other pets in the house grieve and whimper as they scour the house looking for their companion.

Try as I might, I couldn’t function or concentrate well enough this past week to work on anything other than my upcoming manuscript. So I am using this post to honor Hami, who has been laid to rest near my citrus trees (where he reveled in nosing around and digging up beetle grubs).

I’m honoring him by printing the story I wrote about him that appeared in the recently released (last month) Chicken Soup for the Soul book, The Magic of Dogs.

Here is “Transforming Hami” in its entirety.

Transforming Hami

Hamilton von Watts was the last dog I would have adopted. When we first saw him, the big German Shorthaired Pointer/black Lab mix lay abjectly in his cage. A yellow identification tag noted his name.

But I wasn’t going to have much say in the adoption matter. This was going to be our thirteen-year-old son’s dog, and he was doing the selecting. I groaned when Cory asked the shelter employee to let Hamilton out of the cage to visit with him.

The seventeen-month-old mutt looked worse on inspection—filthy, with open wounds and a battalion of ticks. Touching his punctured ear elicited a sharp whine; patting him produced a dust cloud. His puffed right eye oozed, and he emitted an odious scent. But I could see the love pass between Cory and Hamilton when their eyes locked.

And then Hami plucked our heartstrings by flashing a toothy smile, a grin he produced by wrinkling up his nose, and baring his brilliant white teeth and chomping them together several times. An energetic snort punctuated each chomp. He even mustered enough pizzazz to happily paw the air. I could almost hear him cry out, “Please give me a chance!”

An hour later, after Cory and my husband, Chris, filled out the paperwork and plunked down the money for him, Hami bounded around the back of our Suburban. He seemed so grateful. I, however, remained dubious.

Hami’s introduction to our home was rough. He charged our cat, Tibbs, who attempted a warm nose-to-nose welcome. Our Queensland Heeler, Sydney, gave us an alarmed, now-you’ve- ruined-the-neighborhood look.

And while he clearly adored Cory, he cowered and scampered away from our eighteen- year-old son Parker and his buddies and acted anxious around Chris. When Chris removed his belt while undressing, Hami bolted from him. When friends visited, the sixty-five-pound dog growled and hid behind my legs or beneath my skirt. His legs quivered as he peered out at intruders. When frightened, which happened often, he urinated on the floor.

Hami was also undisciplined. He ignored commands and boundaries and led us on lengthy hunting expeditions for him through our hilly, cactus-filled neighborhood. A frequent refrain around our house was “Cory, come get your dog!”

I felt guilty about my uncharitable feelings, but Hami aggravated me. It wasn’t that I didn’t like dogs. Chris and I had cared for six of them so far during our marriage. And Chris said he knew I was “the one” because I was the only female his Border Collie, Felina, had ever liked.

But I liked high-IQ, compliant dogs. Classy dogs with manners and respect for my personal space. Not unruly dogs who barreled into rooms, knocking things—and me—over. I tried to avoid him, but as much as I tried, he insisted on following me around like a

sheep to a shepherd. He got underfoot when I worked in the kitchen. When he’d had enough roughhousing with Chris and the boys, he’d scurry away from them and lean against me for protection. I’d shoo the guys away and tell them sternly that the dog had had enough.

He seemed so grateful for everything I did for him, no matter how small it was—stroke his back, acknowledge his presence, or feed him. He’d give me that big, chompy smile and slurpy kiss and then tap dance in front of me.

I think Hami knew his perseverance would wear me down eventually. His smile, gratitude and amusing antics chipped away at my defenses. I couldn’t keep my heart from surrendering to this hurt dog. But my rigid brain needed coaxing to follow suit. I wrestled against frustration and expectations, prayed for divine patience, and changed my behavior.

Instead of avoiding Hami, I gritted my teeth and embarked on a mission to uncover his potential. I knew it had to be there under all that fear and pain. But could the trauma be undone?

I instructed Chris and the boys to top his kibble with nutrient-packed chicken and duck eggs. Cory spent hundreds of dollars of his own money to heal Hami’s wounds and eradicate his external and internal vermin. We lavished love and attention on him and made sure we avoided his anxiety triggers. When I sat on the floor next to him and massaged the right hip that caused him to limp and whine so much, he’d heave exaggerated sighs and lick my face. It took weeks of scrubbing ground-in grime from his broken body to uncover his sleek, dark chocolate coat.

And with all that love and attention, a miracle occurred. As the grime washed away, and his body and heart healed, Hami transformed. His formerly ragged coat glistened in the sunshine. He started trusting and obeying. His once fearful eyes emitted security. And he gained confidence in himself.

He started doing surveillance patrols around the house. He learned his boundaries and responded to commands. He became comfortable with our friends and made the rounds among them for fanny scratches and ear rubs. Every morning, primed to enjoy another day, he smiled and tap danced. In fact, he smiled all the time—when he went outside and when he was invited back in; when he was fed; and when he got leashed up for a walk. The refrain around our house became “Everyone should be as happy as Hami.” Even Sydney started to pal around with him.

In the process, I realized I was learning from Hami.

He taught me to be eternally grateful for everything, even the small things. Especially the small things. And to lighten up. He’d wheedled the dormant Type B personality out of me, the one I had long ago discarded. In the chaotic swirl of wifedom, motherhood and work, I’d become uptight, rigid, and preoccupied by trivial things. Hami re-directed my attention and taught me to smile at each new day.

And I’m still learning.

The ravages of time and a neurological disease wasting his hind leg muscles have taken their toll. But thirteen-year-old Hami is teaching me how to decline physically and age gracefully. I’m taking notes:

If you feel inclined, sleep a little more, and make the most out of what you can do when the body parts are limbered up and operating properly, which may take a while after a nap.
Don’t be too proud to let someone help you stand upright to get moving. Hobble outside to do your business, bark at the Amazon Prime guy, and soak up the sunshine. Life is good.
If you forget the rules and do something wrong, give your person a brilliant smile and bury your head in their lap. It works every time.
Never let your infirmities steal your gratefulness.

Not long ago, I gazed into Hami’s clouded eyes, cupped his gray muzzle in my hands,  and thanked him for what he’d done and for being patient with me. He heaved a sigh, plopped onto the floor next to me and fell asleep, seemingly satisfied that I’d understood his purpose.  Cory’s selection had been divinely directed.  Love and patience had transformed Hami—and me.

—Andrea Arthur Owan—

I’m looking forward to being reunited with this special dog on the other side of the Bridge.

Until next week, when we’ll return to the next post in our grieving recovery series, love your pets well and thank God every day for them.

Blessings,

Andrea

“Beloved, I pray that you prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers” (3 John).