December 06, 2016
I wasn’t sure where to put this, but I wanted the members in the Grief Club to see it. It’s going to be brief — not my usual “mini-book” blog. But I need to tell you all how proud I am of you. To join a website, to make yourselves vulnerable, to reach out to others and let them reach out to you — it’s more than I could do when I was where you’re at.
I personally think you’re doing great — each one of you. I know some of you (if you’re anything like I was) may not even want to be doing well. (To me, doing good meant getting closer to accepting my son’s death and that was not something I wanted to do.) I don’t know; maybe I thought by not accepting it I could somehow prevent it, or make it not have happened. There’s an old phrase, “insane with grief” and I’m here to say, I was. My thinking wasn’t clear. I couldn’t balance my checkbook. I could look into the face of someone I’d known for years and not recognize who that person was. My short-term memory got blown out. I’ve never been so totally blasted by an event in my life. The biggest difference is that every other time, I accepted a problem as a challenge. I wanted to get back up.
Not this time. Losing my son not only knocked the breath out of me. It made me not want to breathe anymore — for a while.
I feel like a proud mother hen clucking about her ducks (bad metaphor, I know). But I feel so good about how you gals and guys are doing. I just wanted to let you know. I’m not a hugger (unless I know someone). But I’d happily give each of you a warm, genuine hug.
November 09, 2010
About the author
In addiction and recovery circles, Melody Beattie is a household name. She is the best-selling author of numerous books.
One of Melody's more recent titles is The Grief Club, which was published in 2006. This inspirational book gives the reader an inside look at the miraculous phenomenon that occurs after loss--the being welcomed into a new "club" of sorts, a circle of people who have lived through similar grief and pain, whether it be the loss of a child, a spouse, a career, or even one's youth.