Grief meets Grace

I don’t know of anyone who has been deep in grief that hasn’t called out to the Divine for a sign. This story took place during the first few months of my grief journey.

A few months after Hannah died I went to a yoga class with my son Ben. I was really struggling - yoga had become a relief to my body and mind. The movement and the breathing pattern felt like the only time I could escape my pain. My 24 year old son Ben was struggling too. As a mom I felt so defeated. I felt like the only thing worse than losing a child was watching your other children spiral downward from the sadness and confusion of losing their sister.

I’d been praying- asking for some sign that Hannah (my daughter) was okay. I’d been praying for some kind of sign that there was a kind benevolent Creator involved in all this pain and mess. I’d been praying for weeks.

At the end of the yoga class we were laying on our backs in total relaxation (Savasana). Out of nowhere the instructor started reading this poem by Danna Faulds.  I felt like she was talking directly to me.

Pot of Gold, by Danna Faulds

Here, before a crowd of cloud witnesses 
I give you this blessing:

Borrow my faith until your own grows 
strong enough to bear your weight.

Borrow my gratitude until you awaken
from your slumbering depression to
hear the song of the wind and sky
with your own ears.

Borrow my appreciation for life even 
if your own delight is dim or non-
existent. Borrow my eyes so you can 
see beauty as I do.

For a time, borrow my thoughts and set
your doubts aside. Borrow light, which of
course isn’t mine, residing as it does in all of us.

What good is energy if I can’t lend mine
when yours is spent? This isn’t weakness
or charity, this isn’t dependence, but
simply sharing an abundance of love. 
here, for the asking, is not just the
pot of gold, but the rainbow.

Borrow it until you can spin your own
gold out of nothing, until violet and 
yellow and all the spectrum’s colors
arrive to keep you company again,
until you hold an artist’s palette 
that clamors to be shared.

Danna Faulds

A few minutes later she touched my head and I felt a wave of electricity go through me unlike anything I’d ever felt. All I could think about was that she was going to touch Ben, my son next. All I could think about was him- hoping that somehow this touch would help him. It was then that I felt Hannah’s presence. In my minds eye I could see her standing over Ben as he felt this loving, powerful touch. I knew she was okay, and I knew she was here in this moment with us. I never opened my eyes. I started weeping. I just knew something was happening.

When class was over and we were leaving I asked my son if he felt Hannah. With tears in his eyes he nodded yes.

PS - A small side street. The yoga teacher of this class has since become a precious friend. Her beautiful Yoga studio is where I host many of my Breathwork Workshops. Love and respect to you, Danielle Duffy. .