Reflections on Loss and the Afterlife

As I embark on my healing journey, I find comfort and enlightenment in exploring the concept of the afterlife.

MANAGING GRIEF

Moraig Minns

12/11/20235 min read

Reflections on Loss and the Afterlife

My Beliefs Before My Loss

I never really believed in an afterlife; you see, I'm a lapsed Catholic. I lapsed because I lost faith and belief in the ways of the church when I was seventeen years of age and started to think for myself and ask questions. That, however, is a whole other story.

I never even thought about the concept of an afterlife in depth until recently, when my husband died after a torturous journey through cancer.

The 18-month fight for his life took a toll on my mental and physical health as I cared for him 24/7. The anxiety, stress, fatigue, and fear were unbearable at times. Or at least it felt that way until I began this journey of loss and grief after he passed away.

Believe me, the pain of loss is far worse than the intolerable pain I just described. The pain of watching your once robust husband wither and die in front of you day by day is next level. However, on that final day, when I woke to six missed calls from the hospice, the pain of my loss was visceral. The lump in my throat, the rock in my heart and the spams in my belly were just the beginning of my journey into the indescribable pain of mourning.

What is Grief

There's no one-size-fits-all way to grieve, no matter what kind of loss you're going through. However, knowing about the different stages and types of grief can help you discover more positive ways to deal with it.

Grief is our natural response to loss. It's the emotional pain we feel when we lose someone we care deeply about. Losing a spouse or a child is the worst kind of grief. It's okay to feel overwhelmed by the pain of loss. Grief can also affect your physical well-being, making sleeping, eating, or concentrating hard. These reactions are normal, especially with a significant loss.

"Grief is not linear," I read in many books and heard in podcasts, social media, and support groups, which I have been devouring voraciously since that day.

The five stages of grief are quoted in myriad publications as – denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Yes, you will go through all of these, but not necessarily in this order and many times repeated.

But what about the overwhelming physical pain of grief that seems to weigh as heavy as a rock in your belly, making it hard to breathe, and the massive foggy cloud that clouds your thoughts, leaving you feeling lost and confused? The deep, dreadful ache in your heart feels never-ending, a constant reminder of the loss that you are struggling to come to terms with.

How do we deal with these overwhelming physical aspects of grief? I felt discombobulated in those very early months and was in a constant state of anxiety, looking for ways to escape my body that felt like it was letting me down. I needed some relief from the pain and some comfort to allow me to see a future for myself without him.

Considering an Afterlife

I started to think about the afterlife about three months after his death. As I trolled the internet looking for a panacea to my malaise and suffering, I saw others finding comfort in this belief. They described signs from their loved ones– a bird, a feather, a butterfly, a coin. It all seemed a little weird to me, but my anguish and despair were so immense and all-consuming that I was willing to consider anything in exchange for some respite from my misery.

It started almost immediately after those initial thoughts and questioning. As I walked in nature one day, ugly crying and angrily chastising my love for leaving me, a large, white, fluffy feather floated before my eyes. I cupped my hand to capture it and plunged it into my jacket pocket.

As I continued my "ugly cry walk," my thoughts turned from that anger and "why me" to "Is that really you." Is it possible that he is watching over me, encouraging me through this cruel passage of time?

Subsequently, there have been numerous signs, and I take comfort in them. My most memorable "visitation" was the dragonfly that buzzed our heads when my darling daughter-in-law and I would drink champagne in her pool in the southern hemisphere summer after he left us. We would be reminiscing, weeping at our loss, and toasting his memory when a dragonfly would buzz around our heads. It happened with such regularity that there was no doubt in our minds.

The momentary alleviation of my grief symptoms was immediate and, I believe, cumulative. To this day, I look for dragonflies everywhere and have adopted it as my company logo.

I now listen to podcasts and watch YouTube videos on Mediumship and the afterlife. The evidence seems clear to me.

Individual Perspectives on the Afterlife

I acknowledge that from a widow's perspective, the belief in mediums and the afterlife can be both a source of comfort and a subject of profound contemplation. Losing a spouse can shatter the very foundation of our understanding of life and death, leading to a search for answers and a yearning to reconnect with our departed loved one. This is where I got to in my grief journey, and this exploration might also give you some comfort.

For many widows, the idea of mediums – individuals who claim to communicate with the spirits of the deceased – offers a glimmer of hope amid grief. The possibility of receiving messages or signs from our late spouse can provide solace and reassurance that their presence endures in some form beyond the physical realm. It's comforting to imagine that our loved ones continue to watch over us, guiding and supporting us from the other side.

However, the belief in mediums and the afterlife is often met with scepticism and scrutiny, particularly in a society that tends to prioritise empirical evidence over spiritual experiences. As a widow, grappling with the loss of a spouse can be a deeply personal and introspective journey, and the decision to explore mediums or spiritual practices is a profoundly personal one.

For some widows, validating and closing a meaningful message from a medium can be profoundly healing. It reaffirms our belief in an afterlife and our enduring connection with our late spouse. These experiences can bring peace and acceptance, allowing us to continue our healing journey with renewed hope and faith.

On the other hand, some widows may approach the idea of mediums with caution, wary of exploitation or manipulation by those who claim to possess supernatural abilities. Scepticism is a natural response, especially when dealing with something as inherently mysterious and intangible as communication with the deceased.

Ultimately, the belief in mediums and the afterlife is profoundly personal and subjective, shaped by individual experiences, beliefs, and cultural backgrounds. Whether we find comfort and solace in reconnecting with our late spouse through a medium or seek solace through other means, such as personal reflection, spirituality, or support from loved ones, it is a deeply personal choice.

As a widow, navigating the complexities of grief and loss often means embracing uncertainty and finding meaning amid unanswered questions. Whether through the belief in mediums or other spiritual practices, the healing journey is deeply personal and unique, guided by love, faith, and the enduring bond we share with our departed loved ones.

In the end, what matters most is finding peace and acceptance amidst the pain of loss, knowing that our loved ones live on in our hearts and memories and that their presence continues to enrich our lives in unseen ways.

Closing Words From A Fellow Widow

I acknowledge that grief will never leave us. We will never "be better", but now, months down the road, I carry my grief a little lighter.

My life will never be the same; how could it be? I will create a new me, a better me, a me without my other half. My soulmate, my lover, my friend.

From grieving to thriving, this widow's journey.

aerial photograph of clouds
aerial photograph of clouds