Transition.........

Since my last post, nearly a month has gone by.  I have been preparing for a major transition in my life that can honestly only have been orchestrated by Jillian.  Perhaps some background is in order first.

Since Jillian's death, I have wrestled with what the 'man upstairs' had in store for me going forward. I have talked with many a father and mother after the death of their child, and I can say without a doubt that pretty much every one of them experienced this same wrestling match.  For some, it may have been more subtle, but there always seems to be an investigation or search for what direction you are supposed to go in. I am not sure why, but staying in the 'same place' almost seems like a cruel and unusual form of punishment.  Through my reading (see my list on the right) there is a familiar theme that stands out in people who have navigated what is often considered as the worse type of loss a person can come face to face with.  I have met interesting people along this grief journey who have referred to dying as the transition. Often their reference is toward the one who has died.  But what is equally true is that when someone you love so dearly dies, you too go through a powerful (some times overwhelming and unbearable) transition as well. Navigating the transition takes plenty of patience. Trying to figure out what you feel, what you want to do, what's important now, what your values are, who your relationships need to be, etc... So it was with me. 

After Jillian died, I knew I was supposed to do something else.  I had been working for a great faith based non-profit organization as an operations guy since my resignation from the Army in 1991. It was a wonderful job, that certainly supported our family as we did our best to give Jillian a good quality of life. But as I went back to work after Jillian left us, it was really hard to focus and get really excited about what I was doing. I didn't know what yet, but I knew I was supposed to be headed in a new direction.  I new a transition was coming. The key, however, was to be patient, and let it play out in front of me.

I invested in getting help with my grief journey from a great organization called Kara, and then decided to begin volunteering for organization that help kid and families.  I also was able to get involved in speaking at different events and organizations that promote the same.  I decided to apply to graduate school with the hopes of getting an advanced degree in social work.  I began writing about lessons I have learned as a dad to Jillian with the hope of one day having something published.  Having done all that during this transition time, I began to form an idea and get a glimpse of how I was supposed to serve society going forward. So when I learned on the last day of October last year that I was being laid off at the end of the year, I wasn't saddened or disappointed, but in a strange way was happy.  I knew it was a sign that the 'meditation' part of my transition was over and the action part was about to begin.  In my next post I will tell you all about my exciting month of January doing my volunteer work, but this past Monday, on January 24th I began a new position as an operations guy with a new non-profit that focuses primarily on 'helping kids and finding answers for families'. The story of how I got this job is the most important part.  I will write about that in my next post.

But why have I rambled on about this whole transition thing?  To help you understand about the transition - that it is long and oftentimes directionless.  The last 2 plus years have been walking in a cloud, trying to figure out how to get to where I was going.  Now the cloud is actually starting to get some clarity, but there is still a ways to go. I feel like the end of the beginning of my transition is complete,and now the heart of my transition is just starting.

the origin of the word transition is as follows:
1551, from L. transitionem  (nom. transitio ) "a going across or over," noun of action from transire  "go or cross over"


Jillian has crossed over. I feel like I am in the middle of 'going across'.  I am looking forward to what this new year has in store for me.

Grievingdads.com Project

GrievingDads.com Project is a blog that you need to visit.  Kelly is doing some great work in this area and has recently started a petition to have the FMLA changed to include time off after the death of a child.  Excellent idea.  Please support it.

Slowly.....slowly.....slowly.

After Jillian's death, life seemed like it could not go on.  I felt purposeless and like I was a wanderer.   I wrestled with my belief system.....'do I really believe what I believe about God, eternity, etc', wrestled with my purpose in life, wrestled with just getting out of bed in the morning, and wrestled with a long list of 'what ifs'.  Every Friday (the day Jillian passed) was emotional for me (and still is, though the sadness now is more of a presence than a deep sorrow).  However, I engrossed myself in reading as many books about losing a child and grief as possible.

Slowly....slowly....I started to regain a sense of purpose and reason of what I need to be doing with my life now that Jillian was no longer a physical part of it.  It has now been over 2 years (27 months) and I now feel like life can continue, but on a higher plane than it was before.  My perspective about life is quite different now. Yet, there are still many days when I recount memories of Jillian or look at pictures of her and I doing something, and the acute pain returns and tears flow.  I believe this will always be the case.  Shouldn't it be?

Society seems to want us to 'move on' and take back control of our lives.  But in reality, we are never in control, only just part of a much bigger picture where everything is weaved together.  This week I was offered a new job.  It was due to the weaving circumstances of Jillian's death that even allowed me this opportunity. I am super excited about it and know that through Jillian's death I have this amazing new opportunity.

To keep things in perspective, I often think of Kahlil Gibran's writing in the Prophet about "children"....

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You can read many of his other writings from his work 'The Prophet' here.

Grief is a process - a journey that is ongoing.  I like to think that I am growing in my understanding of this journey.  I hope you are too...

My Favorite Poem

This is a poem we had read at Jillian's Memorial Service. My wife chose it and it has become my favorite and I often refer back to it ...today was a day I had been thinking about it so thought I would share it.  It always encourages me.....

“I am standing upon the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white
sails to the morning breeze and starts
for the blue ocean.

She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until at length
she hangs like a speck of white cloud
just where the sea and sky come
to mingle with each other.

Then, someone at my side says;
"There, she is gone!"

"Gone where?"
Gone from my sight. That is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull
and spar as she was when she left my side
and she is just as able to bear her
load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her.

And just at the moment when someone
at my side says, "There, she is gone!"
There are other eyes watching her coming,
and other voices ready to take up the glad shout;
"Here she comes!"

And that is dying.”

                  Henry Van Dyke (1852 – 1933)