A Valentine's Day plan to manage the grief

It is just over halfway between Chip’s birthday and Valentine’s Day. I’ve been worriedly anticipating this stretch of time between his birthday and Valentine’s Day since the summer ended. In this stretch, there isn’t the activity level that started with a new school year and the beginning of the holiday season with Halloween, the rapidly increasing pace of November, Thanksgiving and his 6-month memorial, or the frenetic pace of the Christmas and New Year Season. There are only days, one after the other, without him.

His birthday was tough, but Valentine’s Day will be even harder. The first was all about him and how he’s not here to turn another year older. That reality brought much sadness. But, the latter is about us, the joy I felt being part of a couple with him, and the love we shared. A quote from Alphonse de Lamartine (Frenchmen, who are wise and have such a way with words, keep finding their way into my online searches) perfectly sums up the way I’m thinking Valentine’s Day will go for me: “Sometimes, only one person is missing, and the whole world feels depopulated.”

I had thought about going up to Wilmington to spend the weekend with Chip’s parents. Usually being in Wilmington helps me feel closer to Chip, but now I am thinking it will not have the same effect on me. My heart is heavy, and I don’t think I will be good company for anyone other than myself. I think being with a married couple, or really any couple, will cause me to miss Chip more than I already do. I think the grief on Valentine’s Day won't be pretty. And, that’s OK with me. It's just that I'd rather be home dealing with the messiness of it.

Since Stella and Sam will be with their dad and Valentine’s Day is on a Sunday, it’s going to feel like a very long day without the distractions of kids and work. My grief counselor, Cheryl, always prompts me to have a plan on the days that I know will be hard without Chip. So, being the planner that I am (Chip loved the “planner” part of me), I developed a self-care plan inspired by Heather Stang’s “7 Tips for Coping with Grief and Valentine’s Day”:

1) Take a walk with Rocky and sit on Chip’s rock behind the house for a good long while. Maybe make 2…or 10 or 20…loops on the path so that I sit on the rock as many times as is humanly possible in one day.

2) Write in my grief journal. Write a poem or two. Blog. Scribble down thoughts on sticky notes. Write prayers on the paper in the box with the phrase “Prayer Box” written on top that my friend Megan gave me the weekend of Chip’s funeral and on the paper in the box with the phrase “Give it to God and go to sleep” written on top that my friend Veronica gave me for Christmas.

3) Wear the necklace that my son Michael and his girlfriend Karen gave me for Christmas. When you shine a light through the back side of the heart pendant, a picture of Chip and me on our wedding day shines onto the wall along with “I love you” written in many different languages. (The image shown here in the blog post is the image that shines onto the wall).

4) Wear the bracelets that my daughter Eva gave me for Christmas that are made of stone beads that represent strength and resilience, and wrap myself in the blanket she gave me that has the words “Permission granted to breathe, rest and restore” printed on it.

5) Wear the necklace that my friend Jen sent me that came with the touching note titled “In Loving memory of your wonderful Husband” that begins “Words seem so feeble in moments like these. Life is so precious and death such a thief….”.

6) Try to connect online with friends from my grief support group and anyone else who wants to connect on the day, if and when the moment is right for me.

7) Work hard to complete Stang’s Tip #7: Reframe the message of Valentine’s Day from one of romantic love to a universal love of all sentient beings: animals, spiritual leaders, friends, family, strangers, yourself, and even those pesky difficult people.

8) Read thoughtful and caring messages, notes and letters that my children and others have written to me since Chip died (I have saved all of them).

9) Order a delicious meal to be delivered in order to recall all the delicious meals that Chip made for me and that we enjoyed together.

10) Find ways or create opportunities to laugh. In her personal essay “Looking for Zora,” Alice Walker writes “There is a point at which even grief feels absurd. And at this point, laughter gushes up to retrieve sanity.” I have experienced this myself many times since Chip died, and laughter does help the grief subside for a while.

Stang writes at the end of her article, “No matter how you wind up spending Valentine’s Day, please be kind to yourself. Your grieving heart deserves it.” To be sure, this bit of advice will carry me throughout the day, no matter how many listed items in my plan that I am able to check off.