Thanks For The Dance

 

 

This is a website created by Fred and Jeri Abrams of Dayton Ohio

dedicated to

 

Helping Those Who Have Lost a Spouse

and

Are Seeking A Pathway Though The Personal Hell That Engulfs Them

 

Fred and Jeri have written a book entitled

 

Thanks For The Dance: Transforming Grief into Gratitude When Your Spouse Dies

 

This is the cover.

The book has been published by WestBow Press-Thomas Nelson

and is available for purchase at the following websites:

 

WestBow Press- Thomas Nelson

 

 

Amazon.com

 

 

Barnes & Noble.com

 

 

 

The Long Term Intent is to develop a blog where readers of the book can share their own experiences.

 

If you have comments please e-mail fred@thanksforthedance.com

 

If you wish to blog about this site please visit www.ThanksForTheDanceBlog.blogspot.com 

 

The Book Has Eleven Chapters:

 

Chapter 1. (Treading Water) - An introduction to the book and explains how a Garth Brooks song, “The Dance, “ was fundamental in the “grief to gratitude” approach.

Chapter 2 (Our Stories) sets the stage for a pathway through this hell by describing the authors’ lives through experiencing their spouse’s death. The intent is to provide context for the authors’ pathway.

Chapter 3 (The Difference in Your Story) describes the different timelines leading to a spouse’s death (long such as years, short such as weeks, and immediate – no warning); the different financial implications of losing one’s spouse; the availability of family support; and the use of support groups.

Chapter 4 (The Immediate Impact of Loss) describes what the “experts” say about the grief process; what the authors experienced; and  the process of seeking comfort from family, friends and religion.

Chapter 5 (The Reality Sets In) deals with real experiences such as regrets; recognizing what one misses most (essential to recognizing the irrevocable change) in the physical, sharing, and emotional realms; and the reality of loneliness.

Chapter 6 (Some Guideposts and Potholes along the Pathway) describes the importance of seeing one’s life so far in the larger context by understanding the extent to which one’s happiest moments were shared with the late spouse; dealing with the “Elephant in the Room” that no one wants to talk about – Sex; assessing one’s attitude toward and reaction to the loss; and a major pothole the authors call “The Blindsiding Moments” where something triggers overwhelming emotional reactions.

Chapter 7 (Along the Rebuilding Pathway) discusses the process of coming to grips with what one wants one’s life to be from this point forward. Offers a tool called “The Passion Plot™” that helps focus on a future that seeks to identify and do the things you really enjoy. The chapter then addresses the challenge of beginning to enjoy life again.

Chapter 8 (A New Life Partner) offers advice on beginning to venture out and on understanding what you might be looking for in a new partner by analyzing what drew you to your late spouse and how those things may have changed. The chapter also addresses head-on the role that your late spouse might have in your new relationship. The chapter ends with personal experiences of how it feels to fall in love again after over a quarter century of marriage.

Chapter 9 (The Pathway as Philosophy) summarizes the role of gratefulness; finding happiness again through pursuit of passions; the role of sagacity, serendipity and expectations in navigating the pathway; the differences associated with personality (from a Jungian perspective) and one’s underlying motivations that drive meaningful relationships; and ends with a discussion on the role of religion and prayer in navigating the pathway.

Chapter 10 (Words from the Witnesses) provides short inputs provided by those who witnessed the authors travel the pathway of grief and rebuilding. There are inputs from their four children, other family, and friends.

Chapter 11 (Thoughts about Other Books) offers some recommendations about books the authors found useful. 

 

 

Below is Chapter One from the book

 

Chapter 1: Treading Water

 

 

Have mercy on me, Lord, for I am in distress. Tears blur my eyes. My body and soul are withering away. I am dying from grief; my years are shortened by sadness.

                                            Psalm 30:9-10 (NLT)

 

The condolence flowers are all gone. The neighbors aren’t bringing meals any more. Friends have gone back to living their own lives. I feel like I am treading water to stay afloat alone in a deep, dark sea of despair, the waves of loneliness crash over me. I am afraid I will sink and be lost forever. I want to climb into the bed we shared, pull the covers up over my head and make this all go away. Please God, show me the magic way to escape this nightmare! A well-meaning friend tries to comfort me with “I know just how you feel.” I want to scream back “Oh no you don’t!” but bite my tongue.

 

A family member asks how I feel. I search for the right word; numb, lonely, devastated, hopeless, angry, afraid.... I mumble something; I don’t remember what, in listless response.

 

I try to keep my waking hours filled with frenetic activity so I don’t have to face the reality of where I am and what has happened to my life. The nights are worse as I fitfully try to find sleep; I cannot escape the reality that the love of my life is gone and I, alone, must figure out how to make it through the darkness of the night and the day ahead. In desperation, I fantasize that I will wake up and will be able to go where I really want to go - back to the way it was.

 

Every now and then, I feel like maybe my life is returning to normalcy when I am blindsided by a sight, a sound, or a favorite song that drops me to my knees with the reality of what I have lost and floods my day with inconsolable grief. My grief keeps taking control of my life. The road I am traveling seems to be filled with potholes that keep jarring me as I try valiantly to move forward with my life. I ask God “will this sadness and suffering never end?” Help me! Please!

 

My mind keeps going back, over and repeatedly, to the final moments of our decades together. Oxygen saturation dropping - increase the flow. The machinery keeps the room filled the sounds of breathing. Increase flow again - it will not go any higher. I hold her hand tightly and watch the saturation drop more and more - the sound of the machinery remains steady. At 50%, I know she is gone. The hospice nurse confirms my fears. I suggest we turn off the equipment; my daughter protests, “no, she is still breathing - hear it?” We shut it down - the silence is deafening. The three years of dreading this moment are over. My 14-month-old granddaughter Emma looks upward as if she sees something and breaks the silence “Mam-maw. No, back, back. No. K, bye bye, mam-maw.” I hug her, then my daughter and son, and then Nancy's 92 year-old mom. I am numb and exhausted and want to be alone.

 

Sound Familiar?

 

We have both been there.

 

No, you are not going crazy - you are where we were and where many other people are this very moment. So many different emotions wracked us when our spouses died. Trying to figure out how to make it through this nightmare became a focus of our lives.

 

The reality is that there is probably no greater source of anguish than losing your spouse and no greater contributor to stress in one’s life.

 

The Bad News:

            There is no easy, one size fits all answer that will quickly make it all better.

 

The Good News:

            There is a pathway you can follow that will take you through this nightmare and to a place where you can live life again.

 

The Answer:

            You need to get on this pathway. This book offers our best advice to help you define your own approach that will get you through.

 

The Best News:

            We made it through. So Can You.

 

By intent, this book is heavily autobiographical. We are not professionals at dealing with loss and grief, but merely experienced at it. We want to share the pathway we followed by relating how we coped with what you are now facing.

 

We hope that reflecting on our journey will help you find a pathway that takes you where you need to go. Our life stories are unique to us and are not a formula or prescription for everyone else.

 

This book is about first dealing with your loss and then rebuilding your life. Nothing will make the pain of losing your spouse magically go away. Author Joan Didion’s 2005 book (later made into a Broadway play) “The Year of Magical Thinking” makes this point well - there is no magical solution - you need to face the irrevocable reality of the loss.

This book is about a pathway to reduce the suffering that goes with the pain of loss.

 

“Pain is Inevitable. Suffering is Optional”

                                                Buddhist Proverb

 

We both lost our spouses after over a quarter century of marriage. We met each other in grief support counseling at Hospice of Dayton’s Pathways of Hope. We have been married for seven years now and are happier than we ever thought we could be again.

 

Are our lives as they were before? No – and they never will be again. They have irrevocably changed and accepting that fact made all the difference.

 

The title of this book is drawn from what must seem an unlikely source for two people who are not serious fans of country-western music – a Garth Brooks song (written by Tony Arata), “The Dance.” The core philosophy of that song and our pathway is simple – the only way to avoid the pain you now feel is to have missed the dance. Accept the pain and be grateful for the dance you shared. Transforming your grief into gratitude will lead you to the rebuilding pathway and reduce your suffering.

 

The focus of this book is on what we experienced, what we thought about and the conclusions we drew. Our journeys and perspectives differed and we depict who is speaking noting “Fred:” or “Jeri:”. Some places we draw upon our encounters with others in our same situation and blend them into the text. Where we offer a suggestion of how to approach something, our own answers are the examples – you need to figure your own personal responses.

 

We are both Christians and find our faith provides us comfort, strength, and guidance in times of need. This book reflects our faith and draws upon faith related sources. Facing loss and grief is clearly not solely a Christian or even a religious thing. While we find many bits of guidance in Jewish, Muslim, Hindu and Buddhist writings, what we offer in this book does not demand religious faith. If you are a person of faith, we try to show how your faith can help you in this trying time. If you are not, we are confident you will find what we offer comforting and valuable in charting your own course back to normalcy.

 

Chapter 2 tells our stories in detail. Almost everything in our life stories influences how we dealt with our losses and the re-building pathway we followed. Here are some snapshots from the days surrounding our losses.

 

 Fred: August 2004: My wife of thirty-three years, Nancy, has just died after a three-year battle with the effects of a rare autoimmune disease. I knew this day was coming and had tried to prepare myself for it. I found myself just staring into space, not crying, just numb. The crying, and lots of it, came later. Nancy and I had shared many discussions during her final three years focusing on how blessed our life had been together and, in fact, how blessed our entire lives had been. At Nancy’s memorial service, one of Nancy’s relatives played and sang “The Dance.” In the weeks that followed, I played it over and over, bawling almost uncontrollably every time, but reflecting on how fortunate I had been to have known Nancy for thirty-five years and how awful it would have been to have “missed the dance.”

 

Jeri: My husband of twenty-seven years, Steve, had died, following a five-week battle with cancer, a couple of months before Nancy. I regret we did not have the chance for the long talks that Fred and Nancy did. As an RN, I knew what was coming, but was still numb with shock until I pulled myself back into reality that I had to be there for my sons. At Hospice, Fred shared the song “The Dance” with the members of our Hospice grief support group; many of us found comfort in adopting the attitude of gratefulness in the midst of grieving our losses. The seven of us (four widowers and three widows) became a tight knit group and over a year, we worked together in dealing with our losses and rebuilding our lives.

 

 Fred: There were many support group outings and for me, several outings alone with one of the widows, Jeri. A romance blossomed and we were married at Hospice of Dayton (a real first for them) standing atop memorial stones installed in the pathway by one of the lakes. We felt compelled to capture our feelings and thoughts in stone - memorializing the blessed lives we had lived and the miracle of finding each other. Among the inscriptions on the stones was the phrase “Thanks for the Dance” commemorating the lives that we shared with our late spouses and transitioning us into a life together.

 

 

 

 

 

Now after seven years of marriage, we reflect almost daily on how blessed our lives have been and still are. We talk about Nancy and Steve; they are a part of who we are and, in loving each other, we must cherish how each of us came to be who we are today. We reflect often on the pathways our lives have taken; we are thankful for the dance we shared with our late spouses and that we share with each other today. We do indeed, as the stones state, cherish yesterday, dream tomorrow and live today.

 

You are traveling “A Pathway through the Night of Losing Your Spouse.”

 

We hope this description resonates with you. As you have no doubt discovered, when you lose your spouse you embark on a journey that for most is a dark and unpleasant one. The journey is one you must take; our goal is to use our experience and those of our friends on this journey to suggest a pathway for you.

 

The journey is, indeed, a dark one and the selection of the word “night” is the best one on a number of levels.

 

            First, someone we all recognize as having lived through more suffering than most of us can imagine – Elie Wiesel, the Holocaust survivor and Nobel Peace Prize recipient uses the word. His book on his experiences is simply titled Night. It is an apt metaphor!

            Secondly, while many of us on the journey keep deliriously busy during our waking hours to keep the suffering at bay, it floods over us at night as we try to find sleep. The night is the time when the reality of our loss becomes inescapable.

 

To everything there is a season… a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh;

A time to mourn, and a time to dance

                                Ecclesiastes 3: 1-4

 

Life’s not about waiting for the storms to pass

It’s about learning to dance in the rain

                                                                Vivian Greene

 

We wish you success in navigating your way through this nightmare that you are experiencing, to experience healing. A critical step in healing is recognizing that it does not undo the grief - it keeps the grief from controlling our lives.

 

You must face and accept where you are. We hope you find comfort and reassurance that your feelings are the same as those of us who have traveled this pathway before you.

 

We hope you make it through your “time to mourn” and “learn to dance in the rain” as the “time to dance” returns to your life.

 

You have the power to do this.

 

“The darker the night, the brighter the stars,
The deeper the grief, the closer is God!”

                                                Fyodor Dostoyevsky

                                                Crime and Punishment