Tag Archives: loss

Broken Heart Syndrome

It is actually true that someone could die of a broken heart. When a loved one suddenly and unexpectedly passes away, those left behind can experience what would seem to be heart trouble. It is thought that broken heart syndrome is caused by a surge of stress hormones in the bereaved person. (mayoclinic.org).

Broken heart syndrome can also be caused by other stressful things such as abuse, a dire medical diagnosis, divorce and strong arguments. People who have endured a lot of loss in life are more susceptible. It is possible to have broken heart syndrome more than once in a lifetime too. (mayoclinic.org)

There are 11 documented cases of dying from a broken heart that you can read about here:https://thoughtcatalog.com/daniel-hayes/2015/11/documented-cases-of-people-actually-dying-of-a-broken-heart/

When my kids died, it devastated me. It changed my personality and outlook. As each tragedy occurred, I was affected more deeply. Having a broken heart is real. I began writing about the loss in my life not only to vent but also to help other people who found themselves in the same situations. It takes guts to heal and sometimes we don’t feel like we can. In my case, my spiritual beliefs have carried me through.

If you’d like to read more about my experiences and the insight I gleaned from them, I have three published books that talk about my life. Breaking The Silence and Poetry and Ponderings, which have both been very well received, deal with abuse and loss. Finding Hope In The Darkness Of Grief, my most recent book, speaks of the devastating loss of my 18 year old daughter. These books are inspirational and have helped many people already. It is my prayer that they can help many, many more.

Finding Hope In The Darkness Of Grief Is A Double Award Winner!

I am excited and pleased to say that Finding Hope In The Darkness Of Grief just won another award from the Pinnacle Book Achievement Awards!

This book of art, poetry and prose was written to give readers faith and hope that it is possible to have a life after a consuming loss. Death, divorce, illness and tragedy all threaten to stop us in our tracks. And for a while it does. But in my book, I embrace the concepts of spirituality and strength to bring hope and renewal into the heart and soul.

When we are weak and feel that we can’t recover from the blows life throws at us, that is the time to find strength in our weakness and regeneration in our spirits.

Art and writing can help so much to garner much needed strength in our lives. And empathy and compassion gird us up with the understanding that we’re not alone.

If you or someone you know needs encouragement, please consider this book as a help.

My Interview With The Sacral Circle

I recently had an interview with Janie Terrazas from The Sacral Circle in which I discussed the background of my books and the impact that abuse and loss had on me in my life journey.  Life can be harsh and it can also be beautiful.  I believe that in order to deal with the hard times, we have to develop an attitude of gratitude and perseverance.

You can hear more at the link below:

https://sacredstoriesmedia.com/category/thesacralcircle/

A Beautiful Review For Finding Hope In The Darkness Of Grief, My Most Recently Published Book!

Finding Hope in the Darkness of Grief gathers Diamante Lavendar’s own insights on how she charted a path through grief, and pairs free verse poems that double as uplifting admonitions (“There is so much more/To every instance/Than we can comprehend.”) with prose and the author’s lovely color art images.

From illusions of darkness and separation to the realities of harboring false beliefs and following the road to healing, Lavendar’s verse and insights follow the process of not only recovery; but finding the kind of empathy and understanding from the healing process that strengthens other connections in life.

The juxtaposition of nature-oriented images and art with these admonitions lends a visual touch to the written word that enhances both with a structure and reinforcement that either alone could not have achieved.

Those who will benefit most from Lavendar’s approach are readers who are seeking their own paths to healing and greater enlightenment, who can accept her candid assessments of what the process of grieving leads to (“Death is not an ending but a beginning to a different reality, not only/for the bereaved but also for those who have passed into eternity.”).

This audience will relish the message of Lavendar’s art and words and will discover not just a quiet comfort offered within the pages of Finding Hope in the Darkness of Grief, but a broader message that holds clues to finding strength from weakness and ultimately transforming grief into a growth experience.

Readers interested in finding opportunities from the great of adversities will keep Finding Hope in the Darkness of Grief close at hand for reflection, inspiration, and ultimately transformation. -Diane Donovan, Donovan’s Literary Services, Editor Midwest Book Review.

To purchase a copy, please visit:

Missing You

 

The truth of your love you left behind,
A treasure, a gift that you hoped I’d soon find;
You helped me to learn and wished that I’d grow,
I never imagined I’d be missing you so;
Life seemed so harsh many years ago,
Now darker than I ever wanted to know;
I’m not sure how to handle this agony and pain,
As I look at your pictures again and again;
A mother’s love is not taken for granted,
For children she prayed for and desperately wanted;
I’m not sure how I can go on living,
But I know you’d tell me to keep on trying.
I think of heaven and I hear your voice,
In my heart and my head where you left a deep void;
I wonder if maybe I’m losing my mind,
Because I’m wishing so hard you hadn’t left me behind;
Celby, Jazzy, my beautiful girls,
My love, my passion, my yearning, my world;
Please tell me you’re still here, right beside me,
And ask God to wrap me in his presence and hide me;
I beg Him some day to heal these misgivings,
So I know I can live in a state of forgiveness.

I am lost without you.  Love Mommy.

Freedom Comes After Decimation

Freedom. A word that we love. Personal freedom, financial freedom, business freedom. And of course, historical freedom. I come from America, the land of the free. The idea of freedom is hypnotizing. But freedom comes at a price.

In order to be free, we have to be decimated: decimated on a personal level. For some of us that means financial decimation. For others that means mental decimation. For many that means decimation on all levels. Those are the people who really end up experiencing freedom.

I define decimation as being ground to a pulp; as being brought to a state of complete questioning; being in a state of total disrepair. People who are decimated are people who’s preconceived notions have been ground to fine powder; people whose assumptions and ideals have been challenged to a point where they are no longer sure of what’s true and real. Those are the people who are forced to look around and see the world anew-to understand that they know nothing of truth and that freedom comes only from learning the truth.

Many times we think we know what freedom is-until we are decimated.  Then we pick ourselves up from the dust and rubble and realize we really didn’t even know what we were talking about in the first place.  True freedom isn’t money, power and prestige.  True freedom isn’t winning at the sake of causing others to lose.  True freedom is peace and happiness.  How many of us can say we are truly happy?  Most of us believe happiness hinges on what happens in our lives day to day.  That couldn’t be farther from the truth.  Happiness is a peace-an internal knowing of truth-on the inside of us that doesn’t change with the tide of life. It’s knowing who we really are, where we came from, what we are here to do-and being okay with that-despite who and what is happening around us.   It’s our purpose, our mission, our true selves hiding beneath the flesh and bones of our bodies.  It’s our eternal identities.

Our nation was decimated by war before we became free. And now as we look around, we see that once again we are being ground into fine power to awaken from the lies surrounding us to seek freedom again. We’ve lost ground-we’ve forgotten how much we had to lose to gain what we sought so readily. We’ve forgotten who we really are.  So now we’re being forced to lose what we thought we had gained in order to learn how to acquire what we all want and need with renewed vision.  In all honesty, if we could wake up again and call ourselves ‘one nation under God’ we’d be accomplishing a lot.  Oneness is part of freedom as is our eternal truth. This knowledge is part of the life learning process in coming to grips with what freedom really means.  Unfortunately it seems life runs in circles. Cycles of loss and gain.  Being ground into a fine powder to destroy assumptions, prejudices and preconceived notions is a way of coming to freedom and truth. We are all born, live lives that teach us truth and then we graduate to heaven to see what this earth has really taught us. How do we learn? Hardship and pain.

Do you feel like you’ve been ground into fine powder? That you don’t know who you are anymore or what the truth is versus the lies? If you do you’re in good company. It’s common to all of us humans on this planet. When you find yourself in this situation, try to find peace with it. Try to be grateful for the lessons you’re learning. Because if you meet these processes head on and refuse to become bitter, you will eventually find freedom-the freedom and truth you need. Remember: some of the greatest people who lived had to fight the hardest and had to lose darned near everything in order to gain what they really needed to learn. Never give up and never lose hope!

Echoes

 

Before you left,
You told me
Everything:
All your pain,
And your regrets.
I found it strange-
The sudden openness
Between us,
But I didn’t consider
The ramifications;
Until I found
Your lifeless body
In your apartment.
Suddenly the world
Came crashing in
As I remembered
Your haunting words.
You knew you’d soon
Be leaving me forever
And I refused
To believe it.
Now I’m sentenced
To the silence
You left behind;
And your words
That once fell
Upon my deaf ears
Will echo in my mind
Until I too
Leave this earth
To search for you
In eternity.

Dedicated to my daughter who passed last November.
I love you, Celby. Please forgive me.

Celby

The pain is so deep-
Every time I have a memory,
Every time I hear a song you loved,
Every perfect picture waiting to be taken,
Causes bitter tears of grief to awaken
My broken heart again.

Everywhere I go-
Everyone I meet, people who I talk to,
Remind me of you and your beauty;
I miss your caring heart, your giving aura of love;
You were so much more than the average person
Could have ever hoped to be.

My soulmate-
We dreamed together, had grand plans,
We laughed about silly things,
Fought about even sillier things,
Then hugged and reconciled,
Knowing our love was one quite rare.

My daughter, my baby-
My best friend;
I raised you to be loving, understanding,
A light in the darkness.
How could God snuff out
Someone so incredibly beautiful at such a tender age?

How could He allow it-
When your presence changed lives
And your perspective made everything better?
Your glow could be felt by everyone who knew you;
You made things make sense, you brought life into situations;
You were a constant help to those in need.

I miss you, Celby. I always will-
Until God has me take my last breath on this earth,
Nothing will ever be the same again.
The beauty you left behind is agonizing,
The purpose you gave us torturous
Because you were ripped from us without even so much

As an explanation.

It Wasn’t Her

I saw her in the casket, lying peacefully, wearing the animal print dress she had wanted so badly four years before. We had walked around the store and she followed me, crying, wailing uncharacteristically, for me to buy her the dress.

“Why are you acting like this?” I was irritated. I was so irritated, in fact, that I felt like flinging her across the aisles.

“I want this dress!” she wailed.

“You never act this way. You’re a good kid. Calm. Peaceful. The total opposite of your sister. But now? You’re acting like a monster! I already have $400.00 worth of clothes in this cart for you both. I can’t afford any more. These prices are outrageous! This is why I buy everything at Goodwill!” I stared at her, beyond frustrated.

She insisted on getting the dress. Of course, I caved.

My younger daughter was the peaceful one of my two kids. She was the easygoing one. The one who gave loving advice and huge bear hugs. The one who told everyone that everything would be okay.

Now I was staring at her lifeless body, her cold, hard shell lying in a casket lined with pink satin fabric-her favorite color. The body of my beloved child adorned with the animal print dress she had pined over in the store four years ago.

*****************************************************************************

We were standing in my younger daughter’s room a few days before.   My older daughter held the animal print dress.  “We have to put it on her, mom,” my older daughter insisted through tears and whimpering. “You know how much she loved it.  It’s what she would have wanted.”

“I know.  Do you remember how she freaked out about that dress when I bought it?” I wiped my eyes, wanting to join my younger daughter in her casket.

“Yes.”

We both broke down. It was inconceivable that she had been yanked from us. Our best friend, our confidant, our love.

We carefully picked out jewelry to match.

“She’ll be beautiful,” my older daughter said. “Just like she’d want to be.”

********************************************************************************

How will I live without you, Bubby Girl?  I can’t do this.

I went to her, kneeling in front of the casket. I put my hands over hers, placing one of my best rings on her fingers.

You were with me when I picked this out.  My promise ring to God.  Now it’s yours.

I stared at her face.  That beautiful, angelic face with the pouting lower lip.  Her hair had recently been dyed red.  It looked good on her, falling in soft curls around her cheeks and over her shoulders.

I want to be with you.  

I had been through this before.  I knew all about God and spirits, angels and heaven.  I just didn’t want to acknowledge the pain.  It was then that I heard her voice.

“I’m not in that casket mom.  I’m still with you.”

I felt the familiar salty tears fall from my eyes, down my cheeks and into my mouth as I wept.

I know.  I just miss you.  So much.  Every second of every day.

I stared at her, laying my head on the chest of her icy cold body.  I smelled formaldehyde.

“That’s not me anymore, mom.  Remember.  Now I can always be with you.”

In immense pain, I ran my fingers through her hair, hating the smell and the coldness of her body.

You’re right.  It’s not you anymore.  But I still love you and I always will.  You’ll always be my baby.

I stayed with her a while more as the funeral director closed the doors to the people watching behind me.

I love you, Bubby Girl.  Stay with me forever.  Help me to keep writing and show me how to take pictures like you did.

“I will, Mommy.  I promise.”

Never stop calling me Mommy.  I love how you call me that.

“I won’t, Mommy.  Try to be happy.  Because I’m happy now.”

I ran my hands over her fingers, those beautiful curved fingers that I used to hold in mine.  I got up and told the funeral director he could shut the casket.  As he did, I knew that my time with my baby wasn’t over.  It was just beginning.

 

 

You Are My Bridge

 

You are my bridge. My bridge to love and light.

You are my hope. The hope of my destiny.

You are my dream. The dream of success which you carried for me.

You are my safety. The safety of love and acceptance you gave me.

view-of-bridge-through-forest-trees-pic-with-copyright-on-it

Remember me. As your mother, the one who cherished you.

Remember me. As your friend who valued your opinion.

Remember me. The broken one who needed your tenderness.

Remember me. The vessel you poured your light into.

 

I miss you. The days of laughter and content.

I adore you. Your sparks of humor and helpfulness.

I remember you. My little angel with a bright future.

I hold tight to you. Your memory of rainbows and sunbeams.

 

I admire you. You lived with a rare condition.

You have great strength. Despite the bullies and false friends.

Though you were different. You were a shining example.

You are an original. Truly one among millions.

 

Your favorite color. Pink like the passionate sunrise.

Your shining eyes. Deep blue like God’s heavens.

Your wavy hair. Red, brown, blonde and gold; a mane of beauty.

Your pouting lower lip. The most beautiful smile of caring.

 

Your creative tendencies. To make art and take pictures.

Your quirky side. To tie tight knots and laugh heartily.

Your passion. To love life despite letdowns.

Your imagination. To know angels and possibilities.

 

You are beautiful. Though you didn’t believe it.

You are precious. Though you couldn’t see it.

You are worthy. Though you didn’t realize it.

You are amazing. Though you felt ordinary.

 

Let me see you. When my heart aches to be with you.

Hold me close. In the times that I’m hurting.

Give me love. Throw your soft arms around me.

Kiss my cheek. So I know you are near me.

 

You are perfect. Fun sized and abundant.

You are tender. Hugging me with your mercy.

You are gentle. Forgiving and helpful.

You are gorgeous. My baby, my angel incarnate.

 

God Bless you Celby. I’ll write for you for the rest of my life. I can’t wait to run into your arms the moment I take my last breath here on earth. Wait for me. Meet me and bring me home.