This writer has undertaken the annual task of recording the collective reflections of one walking group. The people in this group are pleased to share their lives with us but are understandably concerned about privacy, so I will neither identify the group nor use the names of its members. The writer assures me that while this piece is written in the first person, it is, nevertheless, the story of the entire group.

When the sixth of April had come and gone, and I had not received the yearly update, I phoned to see if I had missed something. This was the response.

There has been so much change in the group that I find it difficult to continue writing as I have for the last five years. The group is intact, and, in fact, we have taken on three new members, and it has been a pleasure to have them. However, time has brought many changes to all of us, and frankly, some of the changes are difficult to write about. We are as close as we were after the first few Saturday walks. We still need each other; we have fun together; we share our hopes and plans, and we respect each other. During the past six years, we have been on one of the great adventures of the spirit, one that few people are privileged to have!

April 1999

At all critical moments in our lives we want to speak without knowing what to say.
Joyce Carol Oates

I find myself at a loss for words, many times, in many situations as I go through yet another phase of grieving. This is not a new occurrence for me, but I forget that this all too familiar process follows no set rules. There are no time frames, no quick self-help courses, and no easy access to appropriate words, no short cuts to soften the pain or ease the burden. Acceptance and change are key words on this healing road.

Spring has arrived for a second time in my new life, and I find myself wrestling with more feelings, yet again. Much to my surprise there is a new me evolving; unconsciously, the new me is able to deal with the daily problems of living. The possibility of change is now a reality, and believing in this possibility has made me realize that grief is one of life’s greatest learning experiences, as difficult as that realization may be.

Through connections in our support group, the feelings of fear, anger, guilt, and denial that surfaced so strongly in the initial phases of my grief have gradually lost their power. I firmly believe that the sharing of these experiences has enabled me to cope with these emotions and has given me the desire and strength to persevere.

The problems facing me in this phase are different. Now, although I do not want to experience any more changes or deal with anything new, I somehow feel that the help and comfort I have found in this unique circle of friends have given me the confidence to continue on this journey of healing.

The road continues, and I face the days ahead with a newfound energy, knowing they are all with me. We have been linked together in this surprising experience which has taught us much about emotions, spirit, life, and love. I believe a major factor in our bonding is our joy in laughter. Someone once said of laughter: Take time to laugh – it is the music of the soul. I leave you with one of my favorite Billy Graham quotes, “I’ve read the last page of the Bible. It’s all going to turn out right.”

April 2000

Charles Warner said that one of the most beautiful compensations of this life is that no one can sincerely try to help another without helping himself or herself.

Heading into another year, we seem to have climbed more mountains and weathered more storms. The resilience of our group is amazing!

The days seem to pass more quickly as we learn to know each other better, indeed to know the new people that we have become since we were first thrown together so traumatically two years ago. The urge to simplify our lives comes with this rapid passing of time. We notice the priorities in our lives changing. We learn to say no. We don’t concern ourselves as much with what other people think of us.

All lives touch one another. Everyone has a story. Telling these stories eases the burden, but more importantly it passes along the wisdom learned on the journey, the stuff that helped us get on with the new us. Sometimes, the network is small, sometimes large, but there is always the understanding of the need to share and the realization that we can and do make a difference. We still need to listen to one another. Each of us has something to share, and it is
this sharing that fosters understanding and compassion. Now we must be aware of the need to be there and to offer these new strengths to others in need.

As we look back with confidence at fears which once seemed insurmountable, we realize that the most overwhelming fear was that of being alone. It was a source of anxiety and indeed, at times, of panic. We felt conspicuous in our aloneness, but gradually that fear has diminished and, blessedly, a certain security has taken its place.

Another year has become a memory filled with sadness, and joy, tears, and laughter. We travel together with purpose and in friendship, with warmth and caring for each other. On our journey we have found strength, the kind that got us over those rough spots when first we met. Little did we realize that we would become each others’ healers!

April 2001

My teachings are a raft meant to help you cross over the river. Once you get to the other shore, set them down and go on with your life.
From the teachings of Buddha

In the earlier stages of grieving, our energies were directed to the basic things around us such as getting through an hour, a day, a week. Now, suddenly, the years are flying past! The daily routines of our physical world are taking on a new look. For some of us, a move to different housing became necessary; others rearranged the furniture and changed the landscape. All of us sorted out the pieces of our lives. Slowly, unconsciously, we changed our lifestyles to fit the new roles in our lives, as, indeed, the entire scene has changed.

All relationships seem to shift when we embark on this unique journey. We realize that the people in our families are playing new roles. We are not part of a couple; we are the head of the family. The oldest sibling takes on a new position, and the youngest is no longer the baby. It would appear that each has a new place in our future. Mysteriously, new friends became old friends. They know this new scene, and the players we are putting in place; they have been with us from the beginning of this act. There is comfort in their acceptance of each of us and in our change in lifestyle. No longer are we afraid to be alone; we plan for the future. Yes, there is a future, and it is now.

Another hurdle that we have conquered is the enormous paper trail left in the wake of a death. Long sometimes painful hours are spent culling the memories and the piles of keep and don’t keep files as we assign them to their respective fates. The nostalgia felt during these times can be over- whelming, but we handle the challenge with new courage. It seems that our travels have taught us many things about ourselves that we did not know before. We developed strength through our group and find this strength shining through to help in practical ways.
Our roles seem to be shifting; we appear to be concentrating more on the present. After what seems an eternity, we realize that our social world is expanding. We are becoming involved in new and various experiences. We are actively participating in life. Some of us are pursuing old hobbies and learning new skills; some feel a renewed interest in music, dancing, and the arts. Others are brushing up on their bridge skills, and last but not least, the walking goes on.
The goal now is to let go and to work toward a sense of wellness of body and spirit. The healing power developed in our support group must be used for the future. We must try to use the energy that we felt in dealing with the pain of the past to plan for this future, to work consciously to generate a healthy lifestyle for this new person that we are creating.
It is exciting to feel that we are functioning and are perfectly capable, individually, of becoming whole people on our own terms. Hurrah for us!

April 2002

We cannot always choose the way we go. The flow of life depends so much on faith, on trust, and like the river’s flow, we onward go, because we must.
Jane Priest

Another year has passed, and a certain degree of calm and contentment seems to have entered our lives. We are beginning to know each other as individuals with different interests and pursuits. Nevertheless, we remain bonded by the common goal of working together through this process of grief. Perhaps the word, troop, is fitting as indeed we are still on the journey which started four years ago when we were thrown together by fate.

Time, hours, days, weeks, months, years, cycles, and sea- sons seem to defy description! Remember when time weighed heavily on our minds, when we looked at the paper so that we would know what day and month it was? In those early days, time seemed endless as we focused on the pain and loss and isolation. Now, we hear ourselves wonder aloud where the time has gone. Although there are still times when we feel alone, we have developed the capacity to ease the pain and loneliness, each of us finding a unique way to cope. It appears that there is no definite framework for time, and yet it seems to be a major factor in achieving an acceptable level of inner peace. We all move on at different paces, but we do keep moving on. Good for us!

There is no schedule to follow, no sequence, no plan. Indeed, at times we still replay the tape of our own grief experience, listening to our inner conversations. Now, the substance of our conversations with each other seems woven around our present needs. I find it comforting to know that we are sharing our present lives with the same acceptance that we felt in bygone days. The strength in this support group seems endless.

We look in the mirror. We see the new people that we are becoming. As we focus on the present, we are learning new skills, making new friends, reviving old hobbies, and venturing forth to new places.

It is almost as if living is new to us, and we meet daily events fortified with the support of each other and the self assurance that we are now feeling. Dare we say the word, alone, in a positive way? Wow! We like this feeling of confidence.

Consciously and unconsciously, many lessons have been learned during this journey. We have found joy in these simple pleasures: a surprise birthday greeting; a picnic by a beautiful lake; the first snowdrop in spring; an unexpected phone call from a friend. In a strange way, we have accepted ourselves as individuals who have reinvented themselves. There is a difference in each of us as we proceed along this route with new hope and pride.

To be at peace with ourselves we need to know ourselves.
Caitlin Matthews

April 2003

Walking wisdom is natural and lets you learn complex things.
W.A. Mathieu

Five years ago, we met as strangers and began a journey with little or no knowledge of where it would lead us. We were grief-weary people, full of sorrow, distress, and pain.
After a hazy span of time, we began to feel the return of strength. Healing our minds and emotions was the first hurdle that we faced on this journey. Indeed, the compassion and support that we found in each other provided the focus that we needed to deal with the sorrow and confusion surrounding us. We shared valuable stories which helped us find ways to cope with our present bewilderment and apprehensions about the future.

As we continued, the content of these stories changed. The initial waves of grief were centered on the loss in our lives, on the pain and emptiness that we all felt. In telling and retelling our stories, we found freedom to reflect on and to feel the nature of grieving. Just the realization that we were on safe ground with understanding people and no commitments was a blessing!

Gradually, we stopped running and faced the reality of our new lives. Our energy and attention were directed to the multitude of everyday happenings in creating new schedules and routines for going on. For each and every one of us, life definitely changed! The courage to make these changes came from all the talking, sharing, and information gathering that we did as we rearranged our lives.

Although the deaths of our loved ones will always be with us, the time that we gave ourselves to feel the pain and struggle of grief was, in retrospect, the best gift of all. Each of us arrived at different crossroads at different times and yet, here we are, still walking and talking together as a group. We are no longer strangers, but we feel a bond between us that will exist wherever our paths lead.

This experience has been the catalyst which launched us on one of life’s most mysterious passages. We have traveled this uncharted course, and now we have reached a safe haven where warm memories of the past and strong faith in the future are in balance.
Onward! Let’s get out there and share the good news about Hospice Walking Groups.