Healing Grief

“The conquest of the fear of death is the recovery of life’s joy. One can experience an unconditional affirmation of life only when one has accepted death, not as contrary to life but as an aspect of life.” –Joseph Campbell, The Power of Myth

I am often asked to recommend books on grief, usually because people know I have written about the journey through grief and about communication with the other side.

Grief is a personal journey, but it is a universal walk filled with emotions, pain, questions, fears, and is a journey most people are forced to take at various times throughout their lives. I have hoped to present in my spiritual writings not only my own spiritual experiences, but those of others in hopes of lending credibility to the belief that consciousness survives the death of the physical body.

Grief may take many forms. As we go through it, we discover that it comes in all shapes and sizes and is capable of doing many things. It will attack us when least expected, may devastate us, immobilize us, shock us, bring up guilt feelings, keep us awake at night, drain us, make us angry, fill us with regret, make us think we are a little crazy, encourage us to withdraw, bring up many fears, make us forgetful, confuse us, bring deep sorrow, tempt us to lose faith. It can also persuade us to lash out at God, question the purpose of our life, depress us, try to take away meaning, make us feel hopeless, make us insecure, discourage us from moving through it, make us reluctant to speak about our feelings, intensify our sexual feelings when we do not want to even think about sex, make us feel powerless, makes us believe we are winning the battle before hurling us backward three steps–and overwhelm us in a variety of other ways.

Grief will have its way with you and me, but we can also learn from it and discover that we can take from it strength, new understandings, courage, peace, contentment, joy, deeper faith, love, empathy, spiritual enlightenment, honesty, deeper and more meaningful relationships, healing, growth, creativity, among many other things.

Grief can come not only from the loss of a loved one, but from the loss of a pet, a divorce, a job, a home, financial loss, relationship challenges, and each of those experiences can bring pain and sorrow, and may require time to emotionally heal.

Here is a list of books that may help on your journey, through grief, in preparation for grief, or for spiritual understanding that live lives on, and "living" can go on.

Elisabeth Kubler-Ross: On Death and Dying;On Children and Death; Death: The Final Stage of Growth.
Elisabeth Kubler-Ross and David Kessler: On Grief and Grieving: Finding the Meaning of Grief Through the Five Stages of Loss
John Edward: One Last TimeGuggenheim, Bill, and Judy Guggenheim. Hello From Heaven!C.S. Lewis: A Grief Observed

Marty Tousley: Finding Your Way through Grief: A Guide for the First Year, Second Edition;Children and Pet Loss: A Guide for Helping.Raymond Moody: Life After Life Raymond Moody, with Paul Perry: Reunions;Glimpses of Eternity.
Morse, Melvin, with Paul Perry. Closer to the Light;Transformed by the Light; Parting Visions.
Norman Vincent Peale: The Power of Positive Thinking.Bernie S. Siegel, M.D.: Love, Medicine and Miracles;
Peace, Love and Healing.

James Van Praagh: Talking to Heaven; Reaching to Heaven;
Healing Grief.Linda Pendleton: A Walk Through Grief: Crossing the Bridge Between Worlds; 

Linda Pendleton and Dr. Fred Bader: Expressing Love: Remembering a Life 
Linda Pendleton: Three Principles of Angelic Wisdom
Linda Pendleton: A Loving Presence: Signs and Symbols from Your Angels and Spirit Guides 
Don and Linda Pendleton: To Dance With AngelsLarry Dossey, M.D.: Recovering the Soul: A Scientific and Spiritual Search;Healing Words.

Linda Pendleton: Softly With Love, Communicating with Your Spirit Guides and Angels;
Journey to the Heart: Exploring the World of Spirit and Our Connection to It.

These books should be available through Amzaon.com and Barnes and Noble, and many may be at your local library. Most of the listed books are available in e-book format.

Are there other books that have helped you through grief? If so, please feel free to share.

~Linda

Gloria Vanderbilt and son, Anderson Cooper

Today on Anderson Cooper’s new talk show, he had on his mother, Gloria Vanderbilt, now 87 years of age. I love Anderson Cooper; love his compassion, his humor, and I see how he got a lot of those traits from his mother. It was a good show.

They discussed the suicide of Anderson’s brother in 1988 at the age of 23. (He fell from a 13 story balcony, his mother unable to stop him.) Anderson mentioned how difficult it is facing life’s tragedies, and asked his Mom to share how to survive loss. This is what she said:

“You breathe in and out; you breathe in and you breathe out, and you live one moment into the next moment, and then time goes by, and you find you’re able to put one foot in front of the other.” ~Gloria Vanderbilt, 2011.

We Really Never Die, Dr. Brian Weiss

“You are not here by accident or by some coincidence of nature. You are a spiritual being learning lessons of love in this earth school.” ~Dr. Brian Weiss, psychiatrist, author



Psychiatrist Brian Weiss now has his own Youtube Channel.

I've enjoyed his books over the years beginning with Many Lives, Many Masters.







~Linda

Pet Loss, It Is Real Grief

I put my cat, Snickers to sleep a few days ago. It was a very difficult decision, and one I had put off for several weeks, wanting to avoid grief. Although I knew I could not avoid grief, I was only partly avoiding grief because I was suffering already, and at times, the way Snickers looked at me, I knew he was suffering grief also. He knew, too, that our time together was about to end. All the years we’ve been together, nearly 14 years, I have insisted he was psychic, so how could I now deny he knew?

I have been treating him for kidney disease for more than three years, and during that time he might stabilize for awhile but in the last couple of months he had gone further down hill, dropping weight constantly, barely eating in the last week or so, and was also anemic. He was fourteen and I had him since he was 7 months old.

Pet loss is as real as the grief we suffer when any loved one dies. I know all about grief, I’ve lived it—I write about it. I also know that the loss of a pet (or any new loss for that matter) can bring to the surface past grief. And I was not ready to go there, until ... I knew he was ready ... and that forced me to be ready. He went peacefully, not putting up any kind of argument. It was time.

So I am in grief. I really miss him. I’m not greeted at the door, nor do I see him sitting at the window of my study as I back my car out of the drive, nor do I have him asking for milk or snacks when I go into the kitchen. I find myself commenting on a TV program out loud expecting him to react to my comment as he always did. Now when I go to bed he does not curl up with me, or when I sleep late I do not have his paw gently touching my face, his way of telling me to wake up. I miss his physical presence and hope to feel more of his spiritual presence as soon as I can move through a little of the aloneness. Right now, the grief is blocking those subtle spiritual connections. I feel that, I know that, but the letting go is still difficult. Maybe in a few days it will be easier.

It’s been a week and a half and the tears still come. Yesterday I began looking at kitties up for adoption at the local humane society. But right now, I don’t dare go there in person. And it is raining today, a good reason to stay right here at home.

I know it would be best if I give myself a little more time to grieve. But it hurts. I knew it would. But I know he is free and healthy again. And this time he can run through the tall grass, chase the birds and butterflies, climb the trees, and do the little things he could not do while living in my home. That day when we said our goodbyes, I told him it would be like that for him. And those words of mine calmed him as I held him and I believe gave him comfort and peace.

If you go through grief from the loss of your pet, don’t let anyone tell you: “Oh, what’s the matter with you? It’s just a cat.”—“It’s just a dog.” Obviously and sadly, the person who would say that to you does not understand love, let alone, understand unconditional love.

Today, 15 years ago, my husband, Don Pendleton died. I asked him to greet Snickers (whom he did not know in the physical), and I am sure he did, not only for me, but for Snickers. That is what love is all about.

Grief counselor, Marty Tousley, CNS-BC, FT, writes about grief and pet loss. Listen to an audio interview with her speaking on “Pet Loss: A Different Kind of Grief.” You may also find her website and grief forum helpful, along with her grief healing ecourses, if you, too, are going through difficult times.

~Linda

You may like to read my earlier posts on animal intuition:

The Eyes and Souls of Critters; Animal Intuition

Telepathic Animal Communication

Miracles, Big and Small

Today I was formatting my book, A Walk Through Grief: Crossing the Bridge Between Worlds for ebook publication in addition to print and Kindle, and wanted to share this.

Possibly you have experienced something similar, but if not, I do hope you are open to the possibility of experiencing this sort of thing. This is from my Chapter 9, Miracles, Big and Small:

If we can accept the fact that life does not end at death and that our loved ones are still around us then it should be easy to believe that from time to time we can experience communication with them and from them. That communication may come through to us if we are open to receive it and believe that it could occur. It may come in subtle ways, or it may be profound, we may have healthy skepticism, or we may deny that an unmistakable event has occurred right before our eyes.

Just recently I had the opportunity to spend the afternoon with a woman I had met about two years ago, several months following her husband's death. We had not seen or spoken to each other since that last visit. This time, we had the commonality of widowhood to discuss. As we talked and exchanged experiences, she told me she had asked her late husband for a sign that he was still around her. She asked him to give her one red rose. She dared him to do it and she set up a deadline. She had to have the rose by the following Thursday at midnight. That particular Thursday afternoon came and she received an unexpected package in the mail from one of her dear women friends with whom she had not discussed her challenge to her deceased husband. Inside the package was a pretty blouse and lying on top of it were two dried red roses. She laughed and said, "See, he couldn't do it. I didn't want two roses, I asked for one."

It was my turn to laugh. "He sent you two roses. He showed you he could do it and do one better."

"But I only wanted one rose," she insisted. We both had a good laugh.

A recent Time magazine poll reported that 69% of people believe in miracles. But how do we classify a miracle? Does it have to be a profound event such as the Virgin Mary appearing to the children of Medjugorje?–or could it be our deceased grandmother standing at the foot of our bed? Is it an extraordinary healing or mysterious warning voice that calls out and saves us from disaster? Could it be the tears flowing from a religious statue or is it a little two year old boy who says he has been playing with his deceased grandfather? Is it the appearance of a guardian angel at a time of deep depression or could it be the warm hand on our shoulder when no one is around?


Or, could a miracle be two red roses?

If we are not open to receiving a miracle in whatever form it comes to us we may miss it. Albert Einstein said, "There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as if everything is."

So, as Einstein told us, the choice in how we perceive our world is ours, and ours alone. Miracles may come to us in many guises, in subtle ways, without a marching band announcing their arrival, through prayer, without demand, with just a glimpse, when most needed, through epiphany, at a moment of meditation, with the helping hand of a stranger, with the cry of a newborn infant, or with the wrinkled hand that reaches for one last touch, with the flower that bursts forth revealing its beauty, and with every beat of our heart and every breath we take. Life is a miracle. Each one of us is a miracle. The world is filled with miracles, tiny ones, big ones, incredible ones, profound ones but never, ever, insignificant. The cosmic dance of life is filled with miracles, it is the way God planned it. He would expect us to embrace them with joy, reach out with anticipation, revel in the extraordinary beauty, and allow ourselves to be touched by His gifts. If we expect a miracle, it may very well be ours.



~Linda

Puppy Dogs and Angels

“Your tears show that you care, under any circumstance, and to hold back your tears is to hold back your love from life.”
~ Spirit Guide Dr. Peebles, channeled by Summer Bacon, 2009

A few years ago not long after my husband Don Pendleton had passed away, I decided I needed to have a dog. I took a couple of trips to the Sedona Humane Society but did not find a dog I wanted to take home. Then I saw an ad for Australian Shepard puppies.

You know how are puppies are. You fall in love with them even if it might not be an ideal breed. But I fell for her and she was eight weeks old when I brought her home. I named her Misty, bought toys for her, and a good sized carrier for nighttime or when I had to leave the house.

I soon found a trainer--actually three trainers all together. The first one, who primarily dealt with training German Shepards, I did not care for her roughness and attitude. Then the second trainer dealt in “touch training” (sounded more New Age LOL ) and she gave up working with Misty after only about three lessons. So the third trainer was excellent and she had worked with animals and birds at San Diego Animal Park. She and Misty got along just great. But give me the leash and it was a different matter. Misty was very smart and would have made an excellent obedience show dog, but not with me. She wanted to herd, constantly, and it was usually me she herded, nipping at my legs and feet every move I made. So in a few short months, I had to find her a new home. She found a happy home on a cattle ranch in Tucson and last I heard she was thrilled to be able to herd cattle all day long.

When I decided I had to give her up, I cried, and it stirred my grief issues, which were still raw and painful at times. One evening just before I gave her away, I was out in the backyard with her. We had a rock area and I was standing near it looking at the rocks on the ground.

Then I heard these words, “you need to paint angels on the rocks.” I was reminded of the pet rock craze in the 1960s when you’d see the funny faces or bugs, etc, on small rocks. So I found the best rocks I could, cleaned them up, and after saying goodbye to Misty the next day, I got out my oil paints and began painting angels. Not long after I sold a few at one of our local art shows.

The angels were exactly what I need to heal the sadness I was feeling, not only about Misty, but about Don. And in a small way, I found joy and a sense of purpose.

I always love dancing with the angels.

~Linda