Dear Grieving Gracie

Dear Grieving Gracie,

As I read through yesterday's comments, I heard a lot about feeling shunned by someone's behavior toward them. Is it possible that awkwardness, sadness and not knowing what to say to someone who has lost a loved one, silence even, may be mistaken as shunning? -Betty

Dear Betty,

You bring up an excellent thought. I do believe that many people feel deep sadness for our loss, and don't know what to say or do, causing them to stay silent or hold back. This is easily mistaken for shunning. The problem lies in that bereaved people can't tell the difference. The wound of an emotional heartbreak isn't visible and has nowhere to go, so it just stays there as an indescribable rawness with no mobility.

As an analogy, a broken leg is a visible wound. Although immobilized by a cast, when it hurts the patient can move about in an effort to find a comfortable position. With a broken heart, there are no muscles or surrounding joints to flex that will bring relief.

Further, visible wounds trigger instant compassion, but invisible wounds do not. We don't know what we don't know, right? If I can't see your pain, how do I know you're not just seeking sympathy (says Pastor Osteen)?

Some people in society play the victim card because it's a manipulation tactic they were taught as a child. But that victim card has nothing to do with grief. It isn't a light switch we use to manipulate those around us. We have no control over our profound sadness, nor do we have a date to look forward to when the cast is removed and life returns to normal.

Going back to the bereaved's inability to tell the difference between shunning or someone who shares our deep sadness but doesn't know what to say, my recommendation is to hug. Give a hug. Receive a hug. No words are necessary. If the recipient recoils from the hug, shrug it off and find a hug somewhere else. Hugs are a sign of true friendship. 

Warm regards and big hugs,

Grieving Gracie XOXO

Dying to Play Social Media Game Blue Whale

"How do people survive this?" 

These are the words of a mother whose son died by suicide 15 days ago. 

I know, suicide is too sad to talk about. What if I told you there is a shocking new social media game called Blue Whale where participants win by dying?

There is.

The truth is that I debated long and hard about writing this post because there is just nothing uplifting about suicide. But when social media and Facebook Live are being used as a platform to gain 15 minutes of fame in brutal ways including suicide, I become guilty by association by turning the other cheek.

So I'm going to talk about it. 

Thankfully I'm not alone. Netflix has taken the courageous step of devoting a whole series to the subject. "13 Reasons Why" follows the life of a teen boy who struggles to make sense of a classmate's suicide. Although the series is embroiled in controversy for its graphic scenes, whether you agree or not, Netflix deserves kudos for being brave enough to spend millions on a subject nobody wants to address except by those who find themselves facing the real-life aftermath.

Also, big kudos to my friend and fellow author Chuck Andreas. Chuck shared his poignant story of unexpectedly losing his beloved wife Gloria in 2014 to heart disease in "Grief Diaries: Through the Eyes of Men," including the part where he felt lost, hopeless, and—yes—attempted suicide. Chuck has since turned his pain into purpose by speaking to kids (and adults) about his story with hopes of sparing others from taking the same steps. He's even gone so far to inspire and author "Grief Diaries: I Survived My Suicide Attempt." That takes guts. And yet who better to raise awareness than those who've walked the journey? 

When we find ourselves caught between a world who finds suicide too sad to discuss and yet we're up against a social media suicide game that's spreading around the world, what can we do? How do we stop the madness?

We can open the dialogue. 

We can talk about it and educate ourselves on how people young and old find themselves in a suicidal spot so we can learn the red flags and take action before they do. 

Talk about it. Be brave. Help stop suicide. 

And if you know someone who has lost a loved one to suicide, hug them for a really long time. XOXO

Grief in the Workplace - The Last Frontier

Kristen Frasch, editor of Human Resource Executive magazine, was at a national conference in Las Vegas when her husband's lifeless body was discovered at home. Because she had used up all the time she was entitled to under the Family and Medical Leave Act caring for her father during his hospice, Kristen was left with her allotted three days of bereavement leave before returning to the demands of her job.

"I had to return to my hotel room, pack my bags, try and sleep, then grab a taxi to the airport the following morning, go through security and sit through almost six hours of flight time before touching down and driving to meet my sons, who were waiting to escort me to the body of the man I would love forever. What’s followed since has been mind-numbing, energy-depleting, sleep-depriving, appetite-suppressing, chest-quaking and nauseating, not to mention sometimes scary."

Kristen interviewed me last fall for an article in this month's issue of Human Resource Executive. Grief in the workplace remains an uncharted frontier for many employers. I'm honored to have contributed to such an important topic and be cited as the source (see Suggestions for Managers/Co-Workers in the tan box).  

A bereaved employee returning to work after loss is an elephant in the room. Creativity and productivity take a hit. Nobody knows what to say, and the employee becomes a person most people tiptoe around.

"In all honesty, many moments were spent staring at a computer screen, remembering what needed doing but asking many more questions about processes and decisions than I had before. Other moments were spent on pure adrenaline, fulfilling all my editorial responsibilities with a determination and directness that probably said to staff and co-workers, “This woman is so strong!” when that was the last thing I was feeling."

Kristen's story opens the dialogue on the uncharted waters of grief in the workplace, and offers ways to support bereaved employees while keeping an eye on office productivity and the well-being of everyone. 

Click here to read the full article this month's issue of Human Resource Executive magazine.

Why is grief self-indulgent?

On most mornings for the past 11 years, I've walked with my neighbor Evelyn in a cemetery—land designated as a burial ground for the dead. Some find that morbid or creepy, but I don't. I find it peaceful and serene; a place that affords excellent walking paths. The foliage changes every three months, and over the years we've gained friends along the way.

One of those friends was a lady named Karen. Most mornings Karen and her husband John walked their little dog Teddy in the cemetery. It was wonderful exercise for Teddy, and afforded Karen and John a tranquil time between the two of them in his final days before he died in 2009, the same year we lost our daughter Aly. Two years prior, in 2007, my neighbor Evelyn lost her nephew.

After John died, it became just Karen and Teddy walking in the cemetery. We didn’t see her every morning, but when we did the three of us stood and chatted not about our losses but about life. 

Oh, sometimes we chatted about our losses but that's the thing about grief. It’s part of life. 

A few months ago Karen died. While on our morning walk earlier this week, Evelyn and I stopped where Karen is laid to rest next to John. We stood there staring at her name etched on the granite and it hit us hard that we'll never again run into Karen on our morning walks. We miss Karen's easy smile and twinkling blue eyes, and her little dog Teddy too, but this is the cycle of life.

Which brings me to my question. If death, loss and grief have been around since the beginning of time, when did it become a topic so full of taboo? Public displays of mourning were once considered dutiful, respectful and a sign of good character. 

Now it’s considered self-indulgent and impolite, for we must spare others our suffering.

When did that happen? And why?

Happy anniversary to me?

One year ago today I released the first books in the Grief Diaries series. And today I'm releasing the 20th.

In the past 12 months, we've grown to over 500 writers, published 20 titles, and earned 4 literary awards. 

But today's release is bittersweet for me. 

When we lost Aly, our 15-year-old daughter, in 2009, my dear sweet hubby buried his grief in the sand. He escaped into eighty-hour work weeks, more wine, more food, and less talking. His blood pressure shot up, his cholesterol went off the chart, and the perfect storm arrived on June 4, 2012. Suddenly my husband began drooling and couldn’t speak. At age forty-six, he was having a major stroke.

My husband survived the stroke but couldn’t speak, read, or write, and his right side was paralyzed. Would things have been different had I understood what was going on inside my dear sweet hubby's head? I knew what was going on inside his heart: utter devastation. But he hardly cried. Why? Could I have prevented the stroke, and spared our family another tragic turn of events, if I had the resources to know what my husband was feeling? 

Yes, today is a milestone, but a bittersweet one. I wish this book had been around when we lost our daughter, so I might have had a better understanding of my dear sweet husband’s state of mind. Would it have prevented his stroke? I’ll never know. But I’m comforted knowing that this book is now available to help others better understand loss through the eyes of the men they love.

A heartfelt congratulations to the 14 men brave enough to bare their hearts for strangers around the world to read. Yes, real men cry. Maybe, just maybe, this book will help fight the man code, the stigma, that men shouldn't cry.

Real men do cry. And these men are brave enough to share it. Thank you Chuck Andreas, Jeff Baldwin,Robert Boos, Rodney Bruce Cloutier, M G Coy Jr, Bill Downs, Jim Fennell, Jeff Gardner, John Pete, Carl Harms, Stephen Hochhaus, David Jones, Robert L Rieck, Michael Gershe, and thank you to Glen Lord for writing the book's foreword.

Happy one-year anniversary, Grief Diaries. 

#GriefDiaries #GriefMen #RealMenCry

Coincidence or Fate?

On the eve of releasing our 19th Grief Diaries title, Poetry & Prose and More, I stand in awe of the beautiful assortment of entries collected in this book. Some are tender, some are raw, others are inspirational. This one in particular was just lovely. Enjoy!

Coincidence or Fate

BY MARILYN ROLLINS

2011

On a return trip from the deep south, we were on I-65, in northern Alabama when my husband suddenly turned off an exit and said, “We need gas.” I noticed that there were no gas stations right off the interstate and said to him, “Well, we’d better go on to the next exit.” He crossed back over I-65 but continued on the back roads. 

Since this is not what my husband would normally do, I questioned him again, telling him that if we were that low on gas we should go to the next exit and not roam a strange area on a back road. He continued on, and in a few minutes we did find a gas station. He began pumping gas as I dug for money to get a bottle of soda. As I walked into the store, Bob was talking to a man about our “tiny travel trailer,” which has a very retro look to it. When we had paid for everything, we pulled forward. Bob had told the man and his lady friend that he would show them the inside of the trailer. 

The lady friend stepped in first and fell in love with it. She commented, “Oh, we have talked so much about doing something like this, but I lost my only daughter a couple years ago in an accident, and I just haven’t wanted to do anything.”

I was stunned. I showed her Randy and Sara’s pictures and told her how we had lost them in an accident five years ago. We hugged for a few seconds. She had never heard of The Compassionate Friends. I had her sit down at the dinette and for the next thirty minutes or so I told her all about TCF and how I have come full circle and am now a chapter leader for the group. 

When we got back on the road, I looked at my husband and said, “That was supposed to happen, wasn’t it?” He just smiled back at me and said, “And you didn’t think I knew where I was going.”

I had just finished reading a book, An Invisible Thread, by Laura Schroff, based on the premise that we are all connected to the people that we are supposed to meet by an invisible thread.

What led us up that road? Was it coincidence, or were we connected to that lady and gentleman by an invisible thread?

After finding a campground for the night, we settled in. The next morning, Bob topped off the gas tank again as we began the last leg of our journey home. He went into the gas station and on the way in he bent over and picked up something. I knew that he had found “a penny from heaven.” As he walked back to the truck, he bent down again and smiled as he picked up a second one. We so often find them two at a time. One from Randy and one from Sara.

Do you have a Christmas card to spare? This prisoner needs one.

Today's serendipity. I stumbled across a Native American newsletter that had my name in it. Because my family roots are European, my curiosity was piqued so I decided to check it out. 

The newsletter came from the Quinault Nation, a small tribe situated on a southwestern beach of Washington state, and their November newsletter included my article on how to help the bereaved through the holidays. I was really touched! 

Years ago when I was an EMT, I responded to a medical call for a teenage boy inside a sweat lodge. The boy lived and I've long forgotten his name, but I've never forgotten my experience inside such a sacred building. It was incredible, and moved me deeply.

Moving forward, it’s been on my bucket list to include a book for prisoners in the Grief Diaries series. I believe that every baby is born with a good and innocent heart, and no child says they want to grow up to live in prison. So what happens in life that results in incarceration? Is it a childhood full of pain and loss, resulting in anger and hatred for others? Or is the prisoner paying the price for finding himself at the wrong place, at the wrong time? Or with the wrong people? 

Once the prisoner lands behind bars, what goes through his mind? More anger and hatred? Or fear and hopelessness? How do they survive a life without freedom? How does his family survive?

So here's the serendipity part of my story. 

Immediately above my article in the Quinault Nation's newsletter was a short letter titled "Seeking Family." Written by a man named Joe Northup, he had lost contact with his Quinault family members. His address was listed as Oregon State Penitentiary. Now he had my full attention! 

In his letter, Joe explained he was diagnosed with leukemia six months ago and now lives in the prison's infirmary. 

I’ve never written a letter to someone in prison, but on a whim, I wrote Joe a letter inviting him to answer questions for a book I want to add to the Grief Diaries series: Life Through the Eyes of Prison. Regardless of his answer to my invitation, I told him I will be praying for him. 

None of us can know the path of another, and although I have many flaws my children will happily divulge, one of my good qualities is that God gave me a heart full of compassion without judgement.

I'm sharing this with you because I have a favor to ask. 

I would like to invite you to send Joe a Christmas card. 

I don't know his circumstances or prognosis, but I believe that a simple Christmas card from a stranger would fill his heart with love. 

It might be the only love Joe has ever known. 

And his last Christmas. 

If you're moved to join my effort to lift the heart of a stranger in need of prayers, below is his address:

Joe Northup #3342821

O.S.P. Infirmary, Bk #3

2605 State Street

Salem, OR 97310-0505 

Warm regards,

Lynda XOXO

The Power of Storytelling

Amelia Earhart had a passion for stamp collecting. Mozart had a passion for card tricks. John Quincy Adams had a passion for skinny dipping and ancient coins. Not a fan of stamps, coins, or swimming in the buff, I'm a little bit different: I have a passion for helping people tell their story. Some might think that's strange, but it's true: I'm absolutely mesmerized by people's stories. Sometimes the stories are too hard for mainstream America . . . unless its part of a fictional movie. Sometimes the stories are uplifting and full of hope. I believe that every story is actually a combination of both, for without grief there would be no need for hope. And heartfelt stories about life's hardships are full of love. Which is why they touch me so deeply. Sometimes it's about raising awareness. Take Grief Diaries: Through the Eyes of a Funeral Director as an example. What leads a funeral director to choose that line of work? Do they have some kind of morbid fascination? The answers will surprise you. They did me. Who knew that funeral directors are caregivers at heart? They have spouses and kids, and love what they do (and they're gifted writers too!). I'm excited to help funeral directors share their side of the story (coming December!). What other titles are we working on? So glad you asked! But before you browse just a few of our 20 titles in progress below, check out the events coming up in October. Do you have an upcoming event? Tell us about it so we can help share it! Finally, looking for a good read? Check out the 16 books already published in the Grief Diaries series, true stories featuring ordinary people surviving extraordinary journeys. Warm regards, Lynda Cheldelin Fell Upcoming Events OCT. 7 - 8, 2016 HEAL YOUR GRIEF WORKSHOP - Dubuque, Iowa Featuring: Mitch Carmody, Angela Miller, Mary Potter Kenyon, Cathy Corkery, Julia Theisen, Steve Potter INFO OCT. 15, 2016 MISS FOUNDATION MEMORIAL WALK - Bellingham, Washington Coordinated by Nancy Harvey Vekved INFO OCT. 18, 2016 5th ANNUAL MEMORIAL SERVICE - Lubbock, Texas Featuring: Samantha Evans INFO Titles in Progress Below are just a few of the 20 books in progress. Click on any cover below to learn more. Click on the photo to see all titles in progress Click on the photo to see all titles in progress Click on the photo to see all titles in progress

How I Found the Sun and a Stronger Umbrella

The story behind Grief Diaries

When I was a kid, I wanted to be a doctor. A brain surgeon to be exact. But life has a way of throwing us curve balls that force us down a different path. Sometimes those paths are most welcome, like mothering four wonderful children. My least favorite path? Losing a child. That path is a long and torturous one, and took me straight through the belly of hell.

My story began one night in 2007, when I had a vivid dream. I was the front seat passenger in a car and my daughter Aly was sitting behind the driver. Suddenly, the car missed a curve in the road and sailed into a lake. The driver and I escaped the sinking car, but Aly did not. My beloved daughter was gone. The only evidence left behind was a book floating on the water where she disappeared.

Two years later, on August 5, 2009, that horrible nightmare became reality when Aly died as a back seat passenger in a car accident. Returning home from a swim meet, the car carrying Aly and two of her teammates was T-boned by a father coming home from work. My beautiful fifteen-year-old daughter took the brunt of the impact, and died instantly. She was the only fatality.

Life couldn’t get any worse, right? Wrong. Hell wasn’t done with me yet. My dear sweet hubby buried his head (and grief) in the sand. He escaped into 80-hour work weeks, more wine, more food, and less talking. His blood pressure shot up, his cholesterol went off the chart, and the perfect storm arrived on June 4, 2012. In an instant, my husband felt a strange warmth spread inside his head. He began drooling, and couldn’t speak. My 46-years-young soulmate was having a major stroke.

He lived, but couldn’t speak, read, or write, and his right side was paralyzed. He needed assistance just to sit up in bed. He needed full-time care. Still reeling from the loss of our daughter, I found myself again thrust into a fog of grief so thick, I couldn’t see through the storm. Adrenaline and autopilot resumed their familiar place at the helm.

But I needed reassurance that the sun was on the other side of hell. As I fought my way through the storm, I discovered that helping others was a powerful way to heal my own heart. I began reaching out to individuals who were adrift and in need of a life raft. And a warm hug.

In 2013, I formed AlyBlue Media to house my mission. Comforting people who spoke my language, and listening to their stories, my mission took on a life of its own and came in many forms: a radio show, film, webinars, and writing. 

Oh, and a national convention. I wanted to bring broken souls together under one roof, regardless of their journey. I had many wonderful speakers, but the one I was most excited about was a woman who had faced seven losses in a few short years: Martin Luther King’s youngest daughter, Dr. Bernice King. I didn’t bring her to the convention to tell us about her famous father. We already knew that story. I wanted to know how she survived.

Over the course of that weekend, I was deeply moved by watching strangers swap stories and become newfound friends. These were stories born from hardship, yet were remarkable on many levels. Touched to the core, I set out to capture them into a book series aptly named Grief Diaries.

Over a hundred people in six countries registered, and the first 8 titles were launched in December 2015. Now home to more than 400 writers spanning the globe, Grief Diaries has 14 titles in print with 16 more due by the end of 2016. Another 20 titles are set to be added in 2017.

At the heart of it all is a beautiful village. I might be the engine, but they are the force that provides the fuel for our little engine that could.

Where am I today? 

Once a bereaved mother, always a bereaved mother. My heart is a bit like a broken teacup that has been glued back together. All the pieces are there, but they might not fit as seamlessly as they once did. Some days the glue is strong and unyielding. Other days that glue is wet, and threatens to spring a leak. Nonetheless, that teacup still holds water. Well, mostly coffee. Strong coffee. 

Life can sometimes throw a really mean curveball that blindsides even the strongest. It’s important to hold out hope that the sun can be found at the end of the path. But until you find it, it’s comforting to know you aren’t alone. And that is what Grief Diaries all about.

For the record, I have found the sun. Some days I marvel at its beauty. Other days it hides behind clouds. But I now know those days don’t last forever. And my umbrella is much stronger than it used to be.

Helen Keller once said, “Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light.” If you too are looking for the sun, visit our village for a hug and stay for the friendship. And share our page with others who need the same. That’s what were here for: to offer you a spot in the life raft until the storm passes, and the sun begins to shine once again. 

I'll even let you borrow my umbrella.

Warm regards,

Lynda Cheldelin Fell 

www.lyndafell.com

www.griefdiaries.com

Do you believe in after-death communication?

Do you believe in God, and the magic of heaven? Do you believe that love never dies, that the human soul transcends human death? Do you believe that heaven can inspire or comfort us?

I do. I dreamed of my daughter's death two years before it happened. Two years later that nightmare became reality when my fifteen-year-old daughter died as a back seat passenger in a car accident on August 5, 2009.

I arrived at the crash scene to find my precious third-born strapped to a backboard and draped by a stark white sheet. I knelt down beside her, paused for a second, and then sought her hand under the sheet’s edge. I sat there, with her hand in mine, for what felt like ages. For a brief moment, I looked up into the dark field that stretched before us, and that is when I saw her: my beloved grandmother, who had passed thirteen years before, had an arm around Aly and was gently leading her away. Aly was looking over her right shoulder at me as she walked beside the great-grandmother she never knew. Walking away from me — forever.

In the years since the accident, we have experienced countless events involving Aly. One time, our oldest son climbed out of his truck for two minutes. When he got back in, he felt a lump under his floor mat — a lump that wasn’t there just minutes prior. Lifting up the mat, he discovered one of Aly’s blue rocks. Her favorite color, she often painted fist-size rocks blue and placed them outside for the fairies. And now one was suddenly sitting under the floor mat of our son’s truck. It lifted his heart.

One night I was playing on my iPad. I began a fresh word game and waited for my device to dispense the new tiles. There they were, three tiles in perfect order, spelling out her name: A-L-Y. I smiled. How could I not?

I’m close to my family, including all my nieces and nephews. It’s was no surprise when my oldest niece went into labor with her firstborn on Aly’s birthday. But the shock came when an unfamiliar doctor entered the room to deliver the baby. The name on her hospital badge? Aly. Yes, Dr. Aly delivered my sister’s first grandchild on Aly’s birthday. What are the odds?

Our family’s list of unexpected incidences involving Aly could go on and on. But my family isn’t unique; our experiences are shared by many. Grief Diaries: Hello From Heaven is filled with 20 similar accounts of after-death communication from loved ones who had passed away. I applaud the writers for sharing such remarkable stories; one has to be quite brave to share such things, as not everyone believes in after-death communication. Some might even believe it is evil. How can something that brings so much comfort be evil? Comfort only comes from God, not disguised as sheep in wolf’s clothing.

One thing is certain: my faith is strong and unshakable. I believe in God and Jesus with all my heart. I also believe in the magic of heaven and the afterlife. I believe that there is more to life than meets the eye. I believe my dream two years before the accident was a heads-up from God, a divine glimpse into a path I couldn’t yet fathom. I believe my grandmother collected Aly that night in the field so I would know Aly was led safely to heaven following her tragic death. 

Do I think Aly’s rock under my son’s floor mat was a coincidence? No. Do I think that three tiles spelling Aly’s name in perfect order is coincidence? No, again. Can some of our experiences be chalked up to coincidence? Probably so, if one tries hard enough. But many of our experiences are so improbable that even coincidence appears to be a stretch. 

For some, no amount of convincing will make a difference. For the rest of us, Grief Diaries: Hello From Heaven will tell the tales of many who believe that after-death communication is alive and well, and so are our loved ones. 

Yes, I believe. I believe in God, the magic of heaven, and that love never dies. With all my heart. 

What I Learned From Jack Canfield's Rejections

I recently read something interesting about Jack Canfield, coauthor of Chicken Soup for the Soul series. I was intrigued and wanted to learn more about his backstory. In doing so, I uncovered a gem of wisdom worth of repeating.

THE BACKSTORY

The idea for Chicken Soup was born in 1993. Jack and his coauthor Mark routinely used short inspirational stories in their speaking gigs. People loved the stories and began asking Jack to compile the stories into a book that could be shared with family and friends. So Jack and Mark did. But their book was rejected by 123 publishers because (1) it was a stupid title, (2) nobody bought collections of short stories, and (3) the book lacked sex and violence.

But Jack and Mark believed in perseverance. They went to a book convention hosting over 4,000 vendors, and walked from booth to booth until they found a small health publisher out of Florida who agreed to publish their book. Jack and Mark didn't receive an advance, and they were told to just wait and see what happens.

In the meantime, Jack and Mark began living by the Rules of Five. Every day they did 5 things to promote the book. It could mean signing 5 books and giving them away for free. Or sending out free copies to reviewers. But every day they accomplished 5 actions.
The first Chicken Soup for the Soul book came out in July 1993. It didn't hit the bestseller list until September 1994.

THE LESSON

It is easy to get caught up in the rejections of life rather than staying true to one's mission. Regardless of how one is making a difference, it takes time for that difference to be visible. In the meantime, try practicing Jack's Rule of Five. 

THE GEM

I leave you with Jack's words of wisdom, a gem borrowed from a quote by the late author Joseph Campbell: If you have a vision and a life purpose, and you believe in it, then do not let external events tell you what is so. Follow your internal guidance, and follow your bliss. 

Above all, don't give up.

One laugh can scatter a hundred griefs. So can one dance.

This past weekend, my niece got married. I'm from a large family who has weathered some terrible heartaches over the years, some of which are still unfolding. Yet, in the days leading up to and the day of the wedding, our hearts were filled with nothing but joy. And when the music started, we danced the evening away, seemingly without a care in the world.

Did we forget the terrible life events we've weathered? Are we calloused to our struggles? Of course not. One never forgets ongoing hardships. But truth be told, although our hearts always carry the sadness of those hardships, my family embraces those moments of joy for all they're worth. I didn’t suddenly forget all my heartache. But the heart is capable of holding joy at the same time it holds sorrow. True story.

It's also an unspoken rule in our family that we refuse to be victims. Of anything. When people see me, do I want them to see the bereaved mother, wife of a stroke patient, sister of a cancer patient, so I can revel in the pity bestowed upon me? No. I want them to see me as an example of light, love and laughter. Because it gives them hope that no matter their own hardship, they too might laugh again one day. And they will.

Our family is just like any other family. Okay, so it’s filled with more than a little craziness, but otherwise we're just the family next door, with ups and downs like anyone else. But when we take a moment to look around, we're surrounded by blessings. And those blessings are what we choose to see.

So this past weekend, I danced with my family and enjoyed every second. Some of my family was missing. And my dear sweet hubby's stroke prevents him from enjoying the dance floor, which makes me sad. My heart hurts knowing that we'll never dance again unless it’s in the privacy of our bedroom. Being in his arms is the best feeling in the world for me. But one laugh can scatter a hundred griefs. And when you boogie with my family, you can bet there will be more than a little laughter, because most of us dance like an octopus with 24 arms. Another true story.

As news broke yesterday of yet another bombing, my heart was heavy knowing the untold number of people who now begin a journey our family knows well. It is an unspeakable journey, unlike any other. But try as we might, we can't fix it for them. And that hurts, too, knowing that there are no words that can make their fresh loss any less devastating. But I can pray for them, and wrap them in an invisible blanket of love and comfort.

And I can dance. So that one day, maybe they'll see that their hearts too will hold joy at the same time it holds sorrow. It will take a very long time for them to reach that point, but until then, I will be the best example of hope I can possibly be, by emanating light, love and laughter.

And a little bit of dancing. With my family. Because that makes me laugh. And one laugh can scatter a hundred griefs. True story.

Does grief always end in divorce?

"Many couples divorce after losing a child," offered one well-meaning friend after another in the months following our daughter's death in a car accident. I can't help but wonder why people feel compelled to share this with newly grieving parents. Meant to be comforting, it is anything but. Yet hear it, we do. And repeatedly. 

So why is it that two people who love each other until death-do-us-part might find themselves, in the aftermath of a tragedy, in divorce court?  Is it possible for a marriage to survive such devastation? If so, how?

In the immediate days and months after losing a child, both parents are in "the fog." They cling to each other as shock fills their days, and terror fills their nights like a never ending nightmare. The only way to cope with the fog is by relying upon autopilot: our brain is frozen in shock and horror, but our body continues to instinctively go through the daily motions of making dinner, doing laundry, washing dishes. We have to "go on" for the sake of the family. 

Although our body is busy managing everyday tasks, our heart and spirit are in the intensive care unit of Grief United General. Physically, our body keeps functioning. But the simple truth is that on the inside, we're hanging by a thread. And some are very close to needing life support.

In the early days of a loss, family, friends, and neighbors help care for the bereaved. But, as those of us grieving know all too well, intense pain lasts long after the meals stop coming. Further, whether physical or emotional, intense pain is all-consuming, and exhausting. Our entire focus remains on getting through the worst until the next wave hits. 

Now imagine living like this day in and day out for months and months. Just getting through the day is exhausting, leaving very little reserves for anything else, including our marriage.

Add to this the biological fact that men and women are just wired different. As young girls, women learn from older female relatives to talk, share, and discuss. In contrast, boys are often taught to hold feelings in; to "toughen up.” So the coping mechanisms we use during great hardship are vastly different. 

Grieving mothers often seek comfort under the wings of other communicatively nurturing females. Grieving men tend to shut down, preferring instead to find solitary comfort in the garage or escaping in long hours at work. 

And when grief shatters both of us into unrecognizable versions of our former selves, it can be a challenge to find mutually familiar ground again, if ever. 

These conflicting styles can cause a couple to separate from what started out as parallel paths, sometimes leading to a complete and permanent disconnect. 

But grieving parents can find satisfaction, even happiness, in a marriage given time and the right tools. My husband and I are living proof. Since losing our daughter, and through my husband's disabling stroke, a neuropsychologist helped us piece our life back together, and our marriage is stronger than ever. 

I feel that if we can not only survive, but thrive, so can other couples. Is it easy? No. There is nothing easy about losing a child. But with hard work, dedication, and determination, the storm eventually calms down enough to allow the sun to break through.

Bill & Julie Downs

Consider Bill and Julie Downs, who lost their son Brad, their daughter-in-law Samantha, and their son's best friend Chris to a drunk/drugged driver in 2007. Bill and Julie lost not just one loved one, but three in a single moment. 

As many men do, Bill wanted to be strong for Julie. But, in trying to do so, he denied himself the right to process his own emotions until he snapped. One day out of the blue, he told Julie he didn't love her anymore. 

How did they find common ground to repair their once strong marriage? Where are they today? Check out this video of Julie sharing their story on YouTube. Julie's Story. 

Next week we'll interview Bill to hear his side of the journey. 

Once upon a time, it was public perception that a high rate of marriages crumble in the aftermath of losing a child. But this is simply not true. 

Marriage can not only survive in the wake of losing a child, it can thrive. True story.

So next time someone shares baseless divorce statistics with you, ignore the well-meaning comment. Walk the journey together as husband and wife, seek support for you both, and hang tightly to one another as you ride the waves of pain together. 

Mark Twain once said, "Facts are stubborn things, but statistics are pliable." In the face of tragedy, ignore public perception and allow patience, compassion, and tenderness to fill your marriage until solid footing once again takes hold.

Bill & Julie Downs are founders of AVIDD, and co-authors of Grief Diaries: Loss at the Hands of an Impaired Driver, coming out May 30, 2016.