A Time to Mourn

If you've happened upon this blog and are wondering why anyone would want to write - or read! - about mourning, here's an invitation to stay tuned and find out. You may even wonder what kind of loss - or losses - I'll be writing about. Who or what did I lose; how long ago did it happen; am I just a person who refuses to let go of the past and move on, or is there really something relevant about understanding and taking the time to mourn?

My personal feeling is that grief and mourning have been relegated to a 'let's not talk about it' place in our society, especially with regard to situations such as divorce or broken relationships, where everyone expects you to simply 'get over it' and 'move on.' When my own husband left me rather suddenly a little over a year ago and I realized I was slipping into deep grief, I searched and searched for books and web sites dealing with the loss of a relationship through separation or divorce. I found lots of information on these topics, but nothing that clearly explained the process of grieving that would simply go on and on and on. Little by little I did find material, so over the next few weeks, I'll be posting links and titles of books that hopefully might help someone else on their own journey.

I've also become quite interested in the process of 'mourning' itself, and the differences between grief and mourning. I'll be writing about this with some helpful input from some of my favorite source material.

If you'll notice the picture posted with the blog, you can see just how different mourning was - especially for women - in the 19th century than it is today. Elizabeth 'Bettie' Jameson Reid was the sister of the gentleman who originally owned my Victorian home. She lost two husbands, and this photo of her in full mourning regalia was taken after the death of her second, in 1884. She was only in her mid-forties, never remarried, and perhaps never again wore any color other than black, which was typical for some widows of that period. I hope to explore these old customs as well relate how these dead Victorian 'friends' of my home have helped me in my own healing.

I invite you to join with me in this 'Mourning Song,' to share what Kahlil Gibran refers to as the deep sorrow carved into us so we may hold deeper joy. Though still in the midst of my own journey, I eagerly await that deeper joy.