I'm very sorry you lost your father. From your story, I can see he was a gentle and remarkable man. You definitely are an extension of his kindness and greatness.

Such a benevolent act from you and your mother to facilitate the 'Owning Joy After Loss' workshops. To help people find clarity, strength, purpose and joy back again when a dear one passes away is commendable.

Again, I relate to your story. Just last year one of my sisters passed away; she had recently turned 50. Her death was unexpected. Like your father, the cause of her death was metastatic melanoma. Ten years prior her death, she had a malignant melanoma surgically removed from her shoulder. During those ten years, she was fine, no symptoms, no problems; everything appeared to be normal.

In April 2008, she suddenly started with vertigo, severe headaches and vomiting. The tests revealed a brain aneurism, but no brain tumor. The emergency surgery was successful, yet the doctors could not determine the cause of her aneurism. Her case was a big question mark. She was released from the hospital after three weeks, and shortly after she started physiotherapy. We were all hopeful; her progress looked promising. Then, in June, her 12 yr old daughter found her unconscious. Another emergency surgery was done -- a second brain aneurism. Again, the doctors were clueless as to the cause of her aneurism. To them, it was a medical novelty.

This time, however, she did not recover consciousness; she remained in a comma for one month. However, we still had hope because we knew of other cases where the patient having had a brain aneurism and being in a comma for months managed to recover.

Once she was off the respirator and could have another CAT scan and MRI done, the cause surfaced: brain tumour and metastized lung cancer. It was then that the neurosurgeon asked if she had had any other type of cancer before. When he found out she had a malignant melanoma, he said that explained everything. Her autopsy confirmed the cause of death.

My sister tried to fight this. After all, she had a child, her only child, to look after. They were inseparable. Although she was in a comma, she still had some level of consciousness. This was evident by her signs of pain and acknowlegment when we asked her questions. My sister passed away moments after my oldest sister told her the diagnosis and reassured her not to worry about her daughter; we would look after her. She knew she could not fight the cancer and it was time to leave.

This is my third loss in the last five years: mother March 26/04, one of my cats Feb 16/05, and sister July 25/08. I guess I'm writing all this as a process of healing. A way to express emotions and to get one step closer to finding joy after loss.

You know what's remarkable? My niece. She's found joy after loss. It is most remarkable that at her young age she has the strength, understanding and wisdom to come out of adversity with such positive outlook. Undoubtedly, her mother's influence is the essence of her being.

Oh, sweetie. Love to you and blessings to the spirit of Oona. Nothing can curb the pain of recent loss, but knowing that she was already Owning Pink should lessen the suffering. She's in Pink Paradise somewhere. Hugs to you, honey. We hold space for your tears here....

That's right, sweetie. Rome WASN'T built in a day, and we have to give ourselves credit for the progress we do make. Pat yourself on the back and give yourself a hug. You've survived two years! Celebrate small victories. One by one, they become big ones.

Even though it was difficult, I read through this post and related so much to all of it. I (thankfully) did not lose a loved one to death, but rather through separation. I went through a quick succession of life changes, followed by a surgery and couldn't for the life of me, figure out how I was going to do it all. I still have good days and bad days, but I've decided to channel it into a new business as well, and now I feel that I am starting to live my completely new life, instead of just existing in it. It's a process and it does take time. I was glad to hear that it took you three years because I am approaching the 2 year mark and still have shaky days from time to time. But I remember to go easy on myself, Rome wasn't built in a day, and neither are our new lives. Thanks so much for this post, I will be sharing an excerpt of it on my site as well.

That was one of the most amazing things i have ever read. Seriously, astonishing Lissa. It was like you were talking directly to me, and I didnt think anyone else could have ever felt as bad as I did.

Thank you for helping me see that this is really joy I am feeling now, and that I shouldn't feel guilty. I should embrace it because I am worth it!

I am so lucky to have met you online and discovered your website when I needed it the most. It's life changing if you allow it to be.

Oh, honey. Your words mean so much to me. To those who haven't met Kittie, she was my next door neighbor growing up. Dad didn't much like being alone, and since he got up early, he always went next door to drink coffee at Kittie's house. He was just as likely to show up at their house for dinner if the rest of us were out of town or busy. So the Johnson residence became a kind of cozy second home for him- and for all the rest of us. Kittie's Mom was my second Mom, and I guess Dad played a father role in her life as well.

Although Kittie and I lost touch over the years, we've reconnected lately in this Pink community, and I hope it will inspire you all to reach out to those you have loved in the past, but who time and circumstance have caused you to grow apart from. What a blessing to find your mojo by reconnecting in a place of acceptance, forgiveness, love, and friendship.

Kittie, I love you too, honey. And your touching memories of Dad and support of me are priceless gifts. We've been through a lot, haven't we, sweetie? Learning about the birds and the bees, getting our periods, dressing up for school dances, losing our Dads- LIFE, I guess. Thank you for being in my Pink Posse. Namaste, sister.

Wow- thank you all. Debra, what strength! You must really model this capacity for joy in your work. How luck that others have you.

And Leslee, wow. I can totally relate to your story. I feel such loss, knowing that my daughter will never know Dad. And yet, everything he was is instilled in me and my mother and my brother and sister, and so, in a way, his gifts are here still. And in some strange way, it's almost as if his passage into the next life opened a door to set me free. There are blessings around every corner (and kisses in every penny!).

And Nicole, WELCOME sweetie! Happy to have you here in the Pink Posse! Thank you all for contributing and sharing your stories. You warm my heart.

Wow Debra, what great loss you experienced. But what an amazing attitude you have. You sound very strong and courageous!

My husband lost his father in 2005, before our oldest daughter turned 1. We had just decided to start trying for our second child when we found out. It was very unexpected and my mother-in-law has had a very difficult time over these years since his death. It was a hard loss for me because even though he'd only met his granddaughter twice, I knew he was going to be an amazing grandfather. My grandfathers had not been what I would have chosen and I wanted more for my daughters. It was a great loss for them, one that they will never truly be aware of.

The positive part of the story is that I did get pregnant 2 months after he died and when our second daughter was born we quickly realized she has Billy's crystal blue eyes. No one else in the family had eyes like that, so he did leave something for her.

Billy was also an avid coin collector and whenever my daughters find pennies on the ground (which is nearly every day), I tell them they are kisses from Pop-Pop.

What great work you are doing Lissa. This workshop sounds wonderful....I wish my mother-in-law could attend it! Also I love your father's words "I'm not scared, I'm joyful."

Leslee

Thank you honey. I just went around Mom's garden, where she has gorgeous Pink peonies and daisies and all kinds of beautiful blooming. I picked some flowers, and put them in Dad's spirit boat, which is full of water from the rain. Somehow, that image of loss, memory, spirit, and blooming seems just exactly right. I'll post photos of it soon....

Hmmmm....Deep breath....deep bow...I hear you and sit silently with your story, sister. Bless you.