Grief Archives - On the Threshold

I love the mountains. Truth be told, I love the beach a little more, but mountains are a close second. Mountain metaphors, verses, quotes speak to me:

Climb every mountain till you find your dream

I’d move mountains for …

The mountains are calling and I must go

I lift my eyes up to the mountains, where does my help come from?

In yoga there is a pose called Mountain Pose. (The English names for yoga poses, as opposed to Sanskrit, are very literal: mountain, tree, downward dog, table top, cobra, lizard, happy baby.) Mountain pose is probably one of the easiest. It’s often a beginning pose or transition pose before a sequence. For those non-yogi readers, allow me to describe it as a yoga teacher would:

Stand with your feet shoulder width apart. Feel the earth underneath all 4 corners of your feet. Stand as tall as you really are. Stretch your arms at your sides, fingers pointing down, palms facing forward. Allow your breath to flow in and out of your lungs. If you’d like, bring your hands into prayer fashion with your thumbs touching your heart. Feel the strength of your legs and the earth supporting you.

I never gave mountain pose too much thought until a couple of months ago when I attended a weekend grief retreat. It was co-led by Kirstin, a Courage & Renewal facilitator, and Phoenix, a certified yoga teacher. There were 19 of us, all women, all in various stages of grief. As you might imagine, the retreat was a weekend filled with tensions of both/and. Painful and hopeful. Emotionally laborious and liberating. Exhausting and cathartic.

Read On

Dear readers, it’s been a while. I’ve started this post more than once in the past few months but didn’t feel sturdy enough. Please be aware the following contains raw and possibly triggering content, especially for those who have ever experienced trauma. If you are not in a place of strength at the moment, you may want to consider reading at a later time.

Five months ago, my daughter’s boyfriend was murdered in a double homicide. My heart races as I write this, and my fingers feel clunky on the keyboard. Where do I even start? Maybe at the beginning of their story…I will never stop remembering that Griffin’s short and brilliant life eclipses the tragic and wildly unfair ending.

Vivian met Griffin at Chapman University in September 2019. She was a freshman who had been hired as a student phonathon caller for University Advancement. Griffin was a junior and a supervisor for the student callers. They started out as work friends. I recall Vivian would often call us on the 20 minute walk back to her dorm after her shift on Tuesday and Thursday nights. She was always buoyant and happy after work.

We first heard Griffin’s name in January 2020. He invited the phonathon team to his apartment for a party and Vivian decided to go, riding the Chapman shuttle bus over after her evening class. After that party, they played a cat and mouse game of mutual crush for a couple of months…and then March 13, 2020 happened. All the students were sent home, thanks to COVID erupting and shutting down the world.

Vivian and Griffin kept in touch all spring and summer via text and SnapChat. In August 2020, she moved back to Orange and into a house with 4 friends, where they settled in for online classes and college life in the pandemic. Griffin stayed at home in San Juan Island to work and take classes remotely, mainly because his apartment was Chapman apartment housing, and Chapman only opened up dorms that fall for freshmen to live in single rooms. During Fall 2020, their relationship ramped up to a long distance romance. When Vivian was home over the holidays, they FaceTimed every few days. Griffin finally returned to California in January 2021 and they became official. She called me the next day after he arrived and declared jubilantly, “He’s my boyfriend now.”

Read On

Grief

What about mountains?

Learning to carry what can’t be fixed