By Beate Chelette
Today is the day to face up to responsibilities. Like any other day. Still, this one is different. I am sitting here in my living room waiting until it’s time to go to Louella’s service.
I was on vacation in the British Virgin Islands when I received a note from Melissa that said, “Call me when you get this.” I knew immediately what had happened, and before calling Melissa, I checked her mother’s — my friend’s — Facebook page. She had passed away peacefully.
She died peacefully, but she is no longer here. And she leaves behind a daughter whom, as many of you know, I’ve taken under my wing. My feelings are all over the place. A part of me is almost glad that it’s is over. Because now the inevitable has happened: Louella has died. No miracle occurred, no spontaneous healing took place, the worst-case scenario unfolded.
I am not afraid of death. When my father passed away I had a vision that will stay with me for the rest of my life, a vision about the great beyond, the next and inevitable phase for all of us. I have known for a long time that there is something that comes after this. But still, I am in pain — for Melissa, for her sisters, for her mother, for their lives, for my friendship with them all.
Melissa and I were able to find time to have lunch together in the week after her mother passed away. I am strong. This meeting however took all I had. I didn’t want to cry or lose it in front of my young friend.
Why is it do you think that there are circumstances where we feel safe to let our pain show while at other times we are so bottled up about it?
Maybe you’ve been there, and you can offer advice. Is it better to show my grief in such a public way, or should I follow my instinct and remain strong, that is, quiet and stoic? Honestly, sometimes being strong gets to be a burden. Where do we find balance between giving and getting?
The infinity sign goes both ways
Can you relate to this scenario? You are a giver. You love to give. You give freely and find great joy in recognizing how other people derive joy from the things you do. If someone needs help you are the first one to offer help. You help even when you aren’t asked. Your contributions are sometimes appreciated and other times they go unnoticed. What do you do then?
Dear Beate,
I am compelled by what you are sharing, your honesty, it sounds like you are struggling with accepting that your friend had to go, which is understandable, and like you are spritually and emotionally shaken and exhausted. You need to grieve too, to allow all the emotions that are part of that process. You mention how you struggled to keep your poise during lunch with young Melissa. You probably feel that you have to be strong for her, but maybe the honesty of you expressing your sadness for her mom having to go, that you miss her, and that you are sorry that Melissa has to experience this loss will help her too – simply because that is how you truly feel… I know from my own loss that when people around me wasn’t afraid to talk openly about it, it helped me tremendously, because I could then express my feelings too, which I needed to and it helped me to heal. I feel that one can still be strong and supportive, while gently and wisely being open about ones own grief. I know you are normally a very powerful and inspring person to all your clients and contacts, but maybe just now for a litlle while you could give in to your human-ness, allow yourself to not be in top-form, come to an acceptance of that it didn’t turn out like you hoped and regain your faith and trust in Universal Intelligence. Melissas mother could pass in peace knowing her daughter is in good hands with you. There are many children who still have both their parents but live in pain from lack of love or worse…
Melissa will always carry the love of her mother in her heart, that will always be with her.
I hope you can use some of this – maybe just one sentense hit your heart strings and tugged your spirit somehow. I am nobody in particular, I just felt compelled to write this to you.
Melissa is going to be ok – she has got you!
I send you all love and light
Joan
Beate, I have admired your involvement with Melissa ever since I heard that you were supporting her on many levels. I am sorry to hear what happened and I am sure that she is not prepared to be without her mother. Certain things in live you just can’t prepare for, especially when it comes to the emotional pain of loss that crawls in. I see your point of trying to be strong in front of her but it also feels good to cry and to let go of the pain that is bottling up inside for a while. Melissa sees you as a very strong woman that she knows she can count on but it is important that she sees that even though you are so ” perfect” or “in control” it is good that she sees your pain as well and it might help her to wash out a little bit of the pain for that moment. I am saying this as being a German woman, who was raised by 2 German parents that never cried in front of me and always want me to be strong. That really gets in the way sometimes of being real human and to show that we are sensitive. What is wrong with that? If we don’t live that part out in us we are only 95 % real.It get’s us through the journey we are in. I can only speak from my own experience. I still have my parents but I have lost people in my life that were very close to my heart.
You are a hero and an amazing example for what we all need to do from time to time and I am inspired. I wish Melissa and her family strengths to go through this difficult time. Let me know if I can help.
– Dorit
Oh Beate,
You made me cry before I’ve even had my morning coffee! Logically we know that there are some things we can’t control (like the health and eventual passing of our friends and family), but somehow in our hearts we still expect to have some kind of power over them, some hope that a miracle cure will swoop down and select our family to rescue. The moment that you witness the failure of that miracle to appear is such a lonely moment. and, for me anyway, really the only time in my life that I couldn’t find the bright side and see some way that I could make things better for the person lost. It’s sort of shocking to the core. Well, I can’t express as well as you have anyway, but you have many people who care and are wishing you the best in this difficult time.
Hi Beate,
sorry to hear about all the difficulties you’re going through but I think that’s how we grow. And you’re never given more than you can take on.
I can relate in that I’m typically the strong one, and when everyone around me falls apart, no matter what it is I’m going through, I’m the shoulder everyone cries on (metaphorically and literally). To answer your question, I haven’t decided yet, whether to prioritize the “me” or accept it as my “fate” or whatever it may be.
Wishing you the best, hope you find the energy and support resources to help you cope in the meantime.
– Helen
Oh and when I keep giving and giving, and getting nothing in return, eventually I do get to my limit where I just turn around and walk away. But always knowing that you did your best, you know, with a clean conscience.
(sorry, mixing my “i’s” with “you’s” a lot, you’re getting my stream of consciousness) 🙂
Thank you for your great comments. It made me feel better to know that I am not the only one finding it difficult to reconcile between strength and feelings.