Griefcase

Griefcase, Safe Haven, A Letter to You

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 29 Jan 2019 19:58:00 +0000

...And sometime when I wasn't looking, I got a new life.

Dear Reader,

I created Griefcase, a safe place for widows only, after my husband died. Back in 2004, there was little to nothing on the internet for a widow to turn to for support, hope and information. My goal was to honor famous widows, sign off with a funny joke and hopefully turn upside down smiles, right side up again. It worked. Soon Griefcase had morphed into a real website and resulted in my founding a non-profit organization and creating a private chat room to aid widows. For a long time I continued to work and write for widows for free. More of my work can be found at ezinearticles.com. I wrote and published, "A Gift of Love."

Fast forward fifteen years."A Gift of Love," fulfilling my grief promise is behind me. I've signed my last autograph. Griefcase website no longer exists. I closed it down several months ago. The non-profit and the secret chat room are closed.

I visit Griefcase.blogspot.com often, but not often enough, and that is because I am at a different place in my life and my writing journey. I have new goals.

For these reasons and more, I am shutting down Griefcase blog. I will no longer be posting here. It's time. It's my time to move forward with the rest of my life. Feel free to write to me if you have a widow question, my edoor will always be open for that. Feel free to peruse the archives, to read and share my words, to leave a comment or request my free ebooks. I hope you enjoy reading this site as much as I enjoyed writing it.

And one more thing, One day, when you least expect it, you will realize that it is time to stop mourning, time to stop talking about Him, time to put away the photographs, time to live and get on with the rest of your life. I can't tell you when that time is, only you can decide that. But this much I do know, if it can happen to me, it can happen to you. Wishing everyone reading my words, good health, peace, love, and what I lovingly refer to as mourning joy all the days of your life.

See you in print,

Linda Della Donna
Be kind to widows, we have friends in high places.
griefcasenetatgmaildotcom

Q: What's plastic, runs on batteries, and counts cattle?A: A cow-culator

The E,
Faithful Muse

M & C
Muse Understudies

Seasons Greetings 2018

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 19 Dec 2018 13:10:00 +0000

It is Christmas in the heart

that puts Christmas in the air.

May your home be blessed

with the spirit of the Season.

Linda Della Donna

Happy Thanksgiving

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 22 Nov 2018 01:56:00 +0000

Griefcase is grateful for you, and is taking time to say it.

All the writing and every blog post and photo posted, is because of you dear dearer dearest reader. Because of you I am inspired.

Thank you for reading, sharing, commenting and writing. I am grateful.

Wishing you and yours a very happy Thanksgiving.

Linda Della Donna
Be kind to widows,
We have friends in high places.

9/11, Kensico Dam Plaza, I Remember...

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 11 Sep 2018 12:21:00 +0000

September 11 impressed upon us that life is a precious gift. --Senator Bill Frist

I took a walk today. Under a sky of blue and in the warm autumn mist, I leashed my small dog E and together we walked the Kensico Dam Plaza, the entire time all I could do was think, I remember.

17 Years Ago, I remember...

It was a sunny, feel-good-all over morning where the sun shone brightly and people all around me were innocently going about their daily lives. I sat at my desk, sipping coffee, typing, jotting reminders, answering phones, and working my job as an admin assistant wanting to get an early jump on my work day, while my bosses got settled in their offices. Computers were a new thing in our office back then, and often I clicked on the icon at the bottom of my computer screen to check the news or weather. This was a no-no and I knew that I was breaking the rules, but I did it anyway. And that's when I saw it.

It was a live transmission of a burning building with a gaping hole in it. I blinked. I couldn't believe what it was I was looking at. I thought it was a sick cartoon. I rushed into my boss's office, set his computer up and showed him. Next thing, we are witnessing a plane crashing into a second tower. In a matter of seconds, there was a buzz on the office floor and within a short time, it had rapidly spread throughout the entire building, all 17 floors.

I rushed to my desk to contact my husband and my son. Ed was traveling on business, due to take a United Airlines flight from JFK to Chicago, I wasn't sure if he was already in the air and if he was safe. G, my son, was working as an electrician's apprentice in the World Trade Center. I dialed their cell numbers. Nothing.

At the same time, my other manager rushed into his office. I could hear him dialing his phone. He was frantic. He was trying to reach his daughter who had just graduated college, and after spending the summer in Hong Kong visiting family to celebrate, cut her trip short to start her new job on the 86th floor at the World Trade Center. He said, "Linda, she went in early," determined to make a good impression on her first day of work.

A woman on the 11th floor rushed to her desk, calling to locate her nephew. He worked in the World Trade Center.

All along the corridors, people were dialing their phones.

The list was growing fast.

The circuits were jammed. And the look of panic was everywhere.

The announcement came: All bridges, roads, highways, and airports are closed. Busses have stopped running. Trains, too.

We were dismissed early. But how to get home?

That afternoon, standing in my driveway gazing into the horizon as low-flying fighter jets taking off from Westchester County airport roared overhead, I felt their thunder, and I realized the gravity of what had transpired less than 20 miles south of where I lived.

Today, I remember the victims. I honor their memory. May we never forget. I wish their families, loved ones, friends, and everyone affected a world of prayers, peace, love, and hope.

See you in print,

Linda Della Donna

Setting up for the 9/11 Memorial Services held at Kensico Dam Plaza.

The Rising Memorial Spire in far background

Never Forget

Angels, Old Friends From Far Away, Memories

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 10 Sep 2018 16:20:00 +0000

We turn not older with the years, but wiser.

Angels are everywhere. And always when least expected, they appear to brighten our day and cheer us on.

Recently I stopped at the post office to pick up my mail. What a surprise to find inside my locked post office box an envelope imprinted with roses, daisies, and carnations the colors of sunshine, mint, and lavender from a name and return address I did not recognize! I couldn't wait to get back inside my car to open it.

It's been many years since graduating high school and just as many years since seeing my classmate, sender, and author of a beautiful card with matching sentiment with enclosures of snapshots of me from days long gone by.

In appreciation of the thought and thinking the role of angels are at work to cheer me on as I go about the hum-drum of my daily life, I post this memory and extend a sincere cyber thank you to my high school classmate from so many years ago.

To Mary Ellen Kranz Robbins, thank you most sincerely for sharing. Thank you for caring. Thank you for being my friend.

Morning coffee with an old friend from far away.

A beautiful sentiment. It made my day.

We were young. And our hearts were gay.

Happy days, so grateful for the memory.

This is dedicated to the one I love...

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 23 Aug 2018 10:48:00 +0000

Always remembered...

Always loved.

Happy Birthday, Ed.

Angels Are Everywhere, The Club Nobody Wants to Join, Gratitude

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 12 Aug 2018 00:25:00 +0000

Angels Are everywhere.

Sometimes I feel I am all alone as life sends me challenges to overcome and hardships to bear. But then, when I least expect it, something wonderful happens. It may be a kind word from a stranger or a phone call at just the right moment, and next thing I know I am suddenly surrounded with the loving grace of a god, proving miracles can and do happen every day because angels are everywhere.

Recently, I stopped at the post office to pick up my mail. I had been going through a difficult time, feeling sad, wishing for a friend, missing Ed, and feeling very much alone. Imagine my surprise when the postal worker handed me a large box addressed to me. Imagine my surprise when I got home and opened it to find, wrapped lovingly in tissue paper a gift of love from a widow I have never met and a beautiful hand written note thanking me for being her friend.

I am humbled. I am honored. I am grateful.

To Kimberly Ross Hermonat, sincerest thanks. I love everything you so lovingly picked out for me and my fur babies. I will treasure them always, as I do you.

Thank you for being my friend.

See you in print,

Linda Della Donna

Widow Tip:

Sometimes thank you just isn't enough.

There's Something I Want to Tell You, Happy Birthday

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 10 Aug 2018 22:42:00 +0000

Oh, how I miss that man.

The following is something I found on the internet, and I think I'll leave it here.

I talk about Him, because
I am proud.

I talk about Him, because
He deserves to be remembered.

I talk about Him, because
Even though He's not physically with me, He's never far from my mind.

I talk about Him, because
He's a part that I could never ignore or disown.

I talk about Him, because
I love Him. Still. And I always will. Forever. Nothing will ever change that.

Oh, how I miss that man.

Happy birthday, Ed.

Celebrate, I Remember, Happy Monday

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 06 Aug 2018 14:01:00 +0000

"Pay attention," Ed said. "You'll learn something."

Happy Monday!

There is sunshine out my window this bright morning. I sit, and sipping my morning cup of coffee, I type hello reader, the whole time remembering a beautiful life of days gone by while honoring the memory of a wonderful man.

August 23rd is Ed's birthday and for the month of August, I celebrate. Oh, how I miss that man!

I remember...

Ed liked to garden, and he was good at it, too. Most everything I know about gardening, I learned from Ed. When we lived in a private house in Rye Brook, Ed dug a garden in the back yard. When he was finished, he filled half wooden barrels with soil, and neatly arranged geranium, marigolds, kale, variegated ivy, and more in them. I watched. "Pay attention," Ed said. "You'll learn something." I watched. I learned.

In Hartsdale, Ed joined a community garden. Here, he planted rows of cabbage, lettuce, tomatoes, peppers, carrots, beans, and more. Ed did the digging and this time I did the sowing. I learned and loved every minute.

Ed would rise early, begin at 7:30 a.m. on a Saturday morning and continue into the setting sun, returning next day, same hours. I tagged along.

I was helper, student, and hard worker. Gardening was serious business to Ed. And in a small time, me, too.

Wherever there was a spot of soil around our townhouse Ed dug into it and together we planted something in it--Geranium, daisies, black-eyed Susan, marigolds, variegated ivy, and so much more. It seemed when Ed and I weren't digging, planting, weeding or watering the plants, we were in the car driving to Westchester, Putnam, Connecticut, and Massachusetts to visit garden centers and roadside stands for ideas and new plantings. Ed's sense of adventure was enormous and thankfully, it rubbed off on me. I love gardening more each new day.

And when it came time for the harvest... Oh, my, so many tomatoes, heads of lettuce, cabbage, and more. But that's a story for another time.

Happy Birthday, Ed.

See you in print,

Linda Della Donna
Come journal with me;
your book is yet to be.

Gardening Tip:

Did you know that you can force-grow a tulip bulb? Yes, you can. Just stick it in the freezer for 24-72 hours. Then plant it. Bulbs think they just experienced winter and soon as the sun shines on the dirt you planted it in, it will grow. Try it.

Favorite Quote:

I write to make sense of my life.--John Cheever

Celebrate, Happy Birthday, Ed Sclier

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 03 Aug 2018 18:57:00 +0000

Once upon a time...

August 23rd is my beloved Ed's birthday. I miss him so much.

Let the celebration begin.

Linda Della Donna
Be kind to widows.
We have friends in high places.

FYI

When I post or write anything about my husband, it is not to invoke sympathy or pity, I just want to keep his memory alive. TYFBMF

A Different Word and Mourning Joy

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 28 Jul 2018 15:24:00 +0000

Life is different now, that's all.

There is sunshine out my window today, a bright and clear sky, and cool clean mountain air. A small hairy dog snoozes at my elbow, the left one, the one I lean on as I write this post. On the front porch is a dead field mouse, or what is left of him, something the biter cat dragged home, his gift of love, and on t.v., morning news blasts the living room. Here is where I ponder my new day.

In a little while, after I finish this practice write, after I eat my half grapefruit, and after I down my cup of coffee, I will run my errands and get a little writing done.

And dear widow, there is something I want to tell you. I know that if you are reading my words something terrible has happened and you may be experiencing pangs of grief, perhaps wishing wanting and hoping for an end to your agony.

What I want you to know is things will change. They will not get better, sorry. Better would be to hear the sound of the garage door roll up and the boom of his voice saying, Honey I'm home, it's all been a terrible horrible ugly mistake, the best I can offer is a different word, because that is what our lives are now that He is gone. Life is different now, that's all. And, after that, well, there is what I lovingly refer to as mourning joy, i.e., the new day, a yellow-eyed grackle strutting aimlessly and pecking dirt, the sunrise after a teeming rainstorm, the hug of a favorite grandchild, the sight of a sleeping dog, the one you rescued from death and who rescued you right back. You get the picture.

I know it is not easy living life to its fullest when a heart is heavy, and sometimes well-meaning non-widows saying Get over it already, how long has it been?, can add to the misery, but I am here to tell you, things will improve and to never give up. Life is good and more, it is a gift of love. If I can get through this grief thing, so can you.

So why are you just sitting there staring into this computer screen? Get up! Get out! Go create something beautiful.

See you in print,

Linda Della Donna
Come journal with me, your book is yet to be.

A gift of love.

What I Have Learned

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 01 May 2018 15:10:00 +0000

Be kind to widows. We have friends in high places.

It was May 1 thirty years ago today in a candlelight ceremony held at United Nations non-denominational chapel, I became Mrs. Edward L. Sclier.

I wore a knee length, high collared, long sleeved chantilly lace dress the color of champagne and I remember choking up at seeing the tear welled in Edward's eye when the minister asked him, "Do you take...," and he said, "I do."

Who knew that sixteen years later on May 1, we would embrace and kiss our last kiss?

Until that moment, we were like two chips in a cookie happily rolling along. I truly believed the magic would never end. And, yes, we were just like Bogey and Bacall, because we did have it all. I loved him so very much, and the beautiful part, he loved me back.

A lot has happened in my life since that fateful May 1 day in 2004.

I have learned many lessons.

I have learned life goes on without Him by my side.

I have learned that I can think his memory, speak his name and look at his photograph without busting out crying.

I have learned it's okay to make mistakes, to cry out loud and to not give a rat's rear what that person in the same food aisle in A&P is thinking about me as I wipe away my tears.

I have learned that when it comes to grieving a beloved, there is no right, no wrong way. There is just one way--my way--your way. And so long as I remain true to myself, honest and law-abiding, I am good with that.

I have learned I can ride a horse, hit a golf ball 150 yards, work a serve and hit a tennis ball over the net, though, I stink at every one of those sports.

I have learned that life goes on. Mine. There is nothing like the birth of a grandchild to teach a widow that lesson. Thankfully, I am blessed with one grandson and one granddaughter to act as daily reminder.

I have learned that I can live in an apartment the size of a dime, drive to Honesdale, PA and get lost in Boston, MA, how to read a road map, distinguish north from south, how to shop for one, how to cook for one, how to go to a movie all by myself, how to take myself to dinner, how to buy a ticket for a train ride to the big city, register for a class and attend it, too, how to entertain myself on the cheap, heal a broken heart, write a check, buy and sell a stock, a house, too, and do it all alone.

I have learned how to cheer myself up when I am down, and most especially how to laugh again. I just love watching Seinfeld reruns for that. They help get me through the darkest hours. Seems no matter how many times I watch the same episode, I can laugh out loud as if it was for the first time, over and over and over again.

I have learned to love again.

Perhaps that is the great greater greatest lesson of all.

See you in print,

Linda Della Donna
...And sometime when I wasn't looking,
I got a new life.

Widow Tip: We never get over grief. We just learn to live with it.

Mourning Joy:

Q: What's an inkling?
A: A baby fountain pen.

Hello Again Widow Sisters

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 24 Apr 2018 20:13:00 +0000

It's a new day and I am stopping by to just say hi and tell you that I am thinking of you.

May 1, 2018 will mark 15 years I buried my beloved husband. Such a journey.

I am sharing a few photographs this bright spring day of my life today. I hope you enjoy viewing them as much as I enjoy living them.

The view from my mountain retreat.
Yes, dear widow, there is peace on earth, if only in my world.

My two fur babies, PK and E soaking up warm rays.
These are the rescue guys that rescued me right back after Ed died.

The grandkids, The E and me.

Wishing every widow reading my words a joyous spring.

May our every dream come true.

See you in print,

Linda Della Donna
...And sometime when I wasn't looking,
I got a new life.

Widow Quote: Sometimes you have to cut yourself some slack.
It's the best way to avoid getting lost in an endless cycle of guilt and anxiety.

Widow Tip: Choose activities that are truly meaningful to you. There is no such thing as one-size fits all when it comes to your happiness.

So Long, Goodbye, Adieu, Griefcase, The End

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 01 Jan 2018 17:00:00 +0000

"Be kind to widows. We have friends in high places."

--Linda Della Donna

My book, "A Gift of Love," is written. And my promise to Ed Sclier is fufilled.

It's been a good run, but the time is come for me to officially shut down Griefcase. I have mountains yet to climb and many pages yet to write. Just from a different place in my life.

Feel free to visit as often as you like. Griefcase blog will remain, hopefully to shine a light into a visitor's darkness and give hope that if this widowed writer can make it through the grief process, so can you.

I'm enclosing some photos of who I once was and the person I continue to be.

Wishing you and yours what I lovingly refer to as mourning joy all the days of your lives, a very Bright Happy Healthy Prosperous and Peaceful 2018.

Happy New Year!

Ed and the Luckiest Woman in the World

some 15 years ago

at a friend's wedding.

Celebrating dreams fulfilled.

The Luckiest Grandma in the World.

See you in print,

Linda Della Donna

"It's not about what's over the rainbow.

It's more about the yellow brick road,

the people we meet, and the friends we make along the way."

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 23 Dec 2017 14:21:00 +0000

Julie Lange Groth, An Interview

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 21 Jun 2017 09:30:00 +0000

Julie Lange Groth
Author

Today we honor Julie Groth, author, wife, and mother. Julie experienced the loss of her son. Recently, I had the pleasure of meeting Groth and was deeply impressed at her resilient loving spirit. I requested an interview. So, here it is.

First, to Julie Groth, my sincerest condolences and heartfelt appreciation for honoring Griefcase with your sage words.

Next, tell us about yourself.

Q: Who you are?

A: I am someone who has traveled that dark road every mother dreads above all others, the death of a child. As part of my own healing journey, I discovered shamanism and have followed a shamanic path for almost 25 years. I have become an experienced practitioner and teacher and I lead shamanic grief work programs with groups as well as with individuals to bring comfort and healing after a deep loss.

Q: Where do you make your home?

A: I live with my husband Lou in rural northwest New Jersey.

Q: Do you have pets?

A: We have a cat named Kiva.

Q: Can you tell us about your son.

A: My son Justin was a lovable, freckle-faced 16-year-old with a huge heart and a quirky sense of humor. He died while using nitrous oxide (laughing gas) with friends.

Q: How did you react to the news of his death?

A: When Justin died I was a 46-year-old single mother of three with a mortgage and a failing business. I had dropped him off at school that sunny September morning without a clue that this would be the day that changed everything forever.

That afternoon after school, he and some friends were fooling around huffing from a tank of nitrous oxide that his friend had stowed in the basement of our home and he overdosed. After three days and nights in a coma, he was declared brain dead.

Losing Justin flattened me. Some days it was all I could do to keep breathing. For almost a year I was emotionally disabled, eviscerated by grief, unable to save my business from bankruptcy and incapable of finding new employment. My home went into foreclosure and my car was repossessed, but none of it mattered because Justin was gone. Meanwhile, my father was dying a slow, brutal death from colon cancer. He was buried on my birthday a year after Justin died.

That year between Justin’s death and my dad’s was a purgatory of sorrow, doubt and confusion. For the first time in my life, I understood how it might be possible for someone to contemplate suicide. I understood how a strong, intelligent, middle-class person could decline into homelessness and hopelessness. But it was also a time of deep transformation, and ultimately birthed me into a new life of meaning, growth and joy.

Q: How did you get through those early days?

A: I had no particular spiritual beliefs at the time Justin died. I saw myself as an agnostic, someone who didn’t pretend to know the source or purpose of creation. But from the moment Justin passed, I began to sense larger, loving forces operating in my life. In my moments of greatest despair, I felt invisible hands holding me up, and when I was destitute, providence intervened with just what I needed, whenever I needed it. I came to think of this as grace, the only word I could think of to describe being held in the loving arms of a power far greater than myself.

Synchronicity brought me many unexpected gifts and surprises during those first few years, and one of them was a new friend who told me about shamanism and taught me how to connect with the spiritual realms during a type of drumming meditation called journeying. Not long after meeting her, I began my formal training with the Foundation for Shamanic Studies. What I learned and experienced was such powerful medicine for me as a grieving mother and it helped me heal on many levels.

Q: How do you get through now? Do you ever have those days?

It's been 24 years since Justin died and I still miss him every day. I think about who he might have grown up to be, what he would be doing with his life, and how many children he might have. But I also have come to believe that the soul is eternal, that we came into this life together to learn certain things and fulfill certain purposes. And I feel that in a certain way, we are still working together on our souls' plans.

Q: Tell us about your books. Please name them. What inspired you to write them?

A: My first book was Life Between Falls: A Travelogue Through Grief and the Unexpected,

It's a personal account of my life during three pivotal autumn events: the death of my son Justin, my father's death the following September, and the death of my grandmother one year later on the anniversary of my son's death. During that period my advertising business also went bankrupt and I lost my home to foreclosure.

The book is a travelogue through the rockiest territory of my heart, but it’s also a kind of resurrection story. Time and again my grieving process was mitigated by little miracles, messages and moments of pure transcendence.

A big part of my healing process was writing. Although I had not thought of myself as a writer before, writing somehow helped me get through my darkest moments, and so I kept a journal. While the book is largely based on that journal, it also offers the reader some practical tips for moving through the grieving process without getting stuck in it, based on my own experiences.

By the time the third “fall" arrived, I had become a professional freelance writer and a passionate community activist. All the trappings of my old life had fallen away and a meaningful new life was unfolding for me.

I began writing Life Between Falls about 10 years after Justin died because I felt my story might bring encouragement to others during their own dark night of the soul.

Shamanism became a powerful avenue of healing for me personally in the years after my son’s death, and it brought me some huge, unexpected breakthroughs along the way. My deep gratitude for these gifts made me to want to share what I learned through my work as a healer and author, and so I wrote my second book, Healing What Grieves You: Four Steps to a Peaceful Heart, as a step-by-step guide through the grieving process using the tools of shamanism.

In my work as a shamanic healer, I noticed that many people sought my help because they were feeling blocked, inexplicably weary, unable to make decisions or move forward in their lives. In many cases, the problem was simply that they were weighed down by unresolved grief from some past loss.

When I work with people who’ve lost a child or spouse, I’ve heard them say things like, "I’ll never be happy again," as if something has been ripped out of them, never to return. They can’t even imagine themselves being able to reclaim joy in their lives. While it’s true that such a loss does change us in fundamental ways, grieving mindfully can also bring comfort, healing and a deeper understanding of life and our purpose in it.

Shamanism presents us with the opportunity to look within ourselves and discover the deeper meaning in what happens to us. As I describe in my book, it can help us gain the will and the strength to begin the healing process, it guides us through the hard work of grieving and it supports us as we regain our balance in life.

In my own spiritual journey through what had seemed unthinkable and unsurvivable, shamanism helped me find my way into a life of newfound meaning, self discovery, fulfillment and happiness. What better way to honor the dead than to live a life of purpose?

Q: Can you talk about any of the methods you share in your book?

A: I think of a major loss as a sacred wound. It changes us in deep ways. Our grief deserves to be honored and attended to on a spiritual level so that we can move through the pain with awareness and intention rather than getting stuck in it.

As part of that spiritual process I recommend creating a sacred space in your home, a special place where you can spend a little time each day attending to your grief, checking in with yourself and opening up to whatever feelings may be bubbling to the surface. Having this dedicated space and time can help you free up more of your day for attending to your life.

You might create a little a "altar" with a candle, some sage or incense, fresh flowers, your journal, and perhaps a small picture or keepsake that reminds you of the loss you are grieving. Some people like to hang a wind chime there or play soothing music when they're in their sacred space. I recommend getting yourself a rattle or hand drum that you can play in a steady rhythm for five to ten minutes at a time when you're feeling unsettled or stirred up. You'll find that it helps you shift from your present emotional upheaval into a calmer, more reflective state that allows you to work with your grief more productively.

Q: One more thing, Julie, how would a reader contact you?

A: My website is www.julielangegroth.com. You can find more info there about my grief retreats and online programs as well as my books, how to order them, articles I've written, and lots more.

My contact info is there also, including

By email On Facebook.

I don't usually give my phone number out in articles, but of course if you need to call me, my number is 908-399-9762.

Thank you Julie Lange Groth for your very inspirating as well as informative interview. Griefcase extends all best wishes for continued success.

Open to Hope, Grand Central Station, Lost and Found in New York City

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 05 Jun 2017 03:11:00 +0000

What is it about the Ceiling at Grand Central Station that makes me feel glad all over?

As every widow knows, Open to Hope is the online organization dedicated to individuals mourning the loss of a loved one with the mission to help people find hope after loss. Founded by Dr. Gloria Horsley and her daughter, Dr. Heidi Horsley, last night I was their invited guest for an upcoming cable t.v. show. These two women do awesome work and meeting them after all these many years as a widow made for an inspirational evening.

I snapped photos and want to share. And yes, I am grateful.

The Green Room

Here are Gloria and Heidi greeting everyone.

Singer and special guest, Bar Scott.

Awesome voice. All of her music she wrote herself.

It was lights, camera and sound checks.

Before I knew it, I was in the audience and on a live t.v. set.

Action!

L-R, Heidi Horsley, Gloria Horsley, Julie Groth, Bar Scott.

Heidi's son, Cameraman.

When the evening was done, there were group photos.

Here's mine.

L-R, Heidi Horsley, Victoria Grinman, Linda Della Donna, Gloria Horsley

My face says it all. I was so happy, so honored and so very grateful to be a part of this show and to finally meet these wonderful women who gave me hope all those years back when I needed it most, after my husband died.

A Little Back Story:

I had butterflies.

Here I am checking myself in the mirror before I head out the door to catch my train to NYC.

MetroNorth train to Grand Central was packed.

I got lucky. I got a seat.

I arrived Grand Central with time to spare.

I did my people watching thing, then headed downstairs and grabbed a cup of tea.

I always have time to scribble a few lines.

Dashing for the subway, I saw this married couple.

I couldn't resist snapping their photo.

I love happy news!

The subway was packed. I wasn't sure which subway I should take. I got lost. I got found. I got lost again.

Lesson Learned: Numbers going up means I'm traveling up town; numbers going down means I'm traveling down town; The number 6 train does not go to 59th Street, doesn't matter what the ticket seller man says; The BD train goes to Columbus Circle; and a grateful shout out to all the NYer helpful strangers guiding that strange woman lost in a hole in the ground. Without your help, I might have wound up in Boston.

Walking 59th Street, I spotted this horse and carriage.

I always wanted to ride in one of these. Maybe some day. Maybe next trip to NYC.

Somewhere between 10th and 11th Avenues.

I could't believe it. I found it!

It was a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

Just look at that sky.

After taping the three shows for Open to Hope, everyone was invited for wine and cheese.

And pizza! I love pizza.

It was a magical evening. I felt like Cinderella.

But all good things must come to an end

and before I knew it, it was time to head back to the subway, back to Grand Central and back to my home.

Eureka! I found the subway.

I found the BD train.

I spent time getting lost in the subway, again, searching for the MetroNorth exit to Grand Central, but I found it. Here I am dashing to Track 108 to catch the 9:28 p.m. back to Westchester.

If anyone is wondering if I had a good time, the answer is, "You betcha!"

Widow Tip: Follow your dreams. Create courage to step outside your comfort zone. And most of all, be open to hope.

Widow Quotation: Be kind to widows, we have friends in high places.

Peace, Nature, Words of Inspiration

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 24 May 2017 14:56:00 +0000

"Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better."

--Albert Einstein

There is gray sky out my window today. The television blares the news about a suicide bomber in Manchester, England. Ugly. Somewhere in the world a mother is crying. Her daughter is dead. I ask the question all Griefcase subscribers ask: What is wrong with this world? I feel the sinking life-will-never-be-the-same feeling now-that-my-loved-one-is gone, all Griefcase readers feel. The writer with many words has no words for this.

Today I turn to nature to share quotations on peace. I offer a little of this. A little of that. I hope they help to salve our wounds. I urge you to set a clock-timer for ten minutes, pick up your pen, and write something, if only a grocery list. Do it. Just do it.

Linda Della Donna

"...And sometime when I wasn't looking, I got a new life."

"Nature is the art of God." --Latin Saying

"No man fears what he has seen grow." --African Proverb

"One step leads to another." --Unknown

"The afternoon knows what the morning never expected." --Swedish Saying

"The day has eyes; the night has ears." --Scottish Saying

"The early bird gets the worm, the second mouse gets the cheese." --Unknown

"The earth has music for those who listen." --Unknown (thank you Guy Archer)

"When the wind is in the east, tis neither good for man or beast." --Unknown

The E

Faithful Friend, Mighty Muse

Mourning Tip: Give yourself permission to mourn. Take however long you need. This is your time. Do it your way.

Mourning Joy: Why did the bubble gum cross the road? Because it was stuck on the chicken's foot.

Be Kind to Yourself, Happy Mother's Day

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 12 May 2017 13:09:00 +0000

I am stopping by to wish all my widow friends a very Happy Mother's Day, to remind you to be kind to yourself, and share quotations in honor of our special day.

God couldn't be everywhere, therefore he made mothers. --Jewish Proverb

My mother is a walking miracle. --Leonardo DiCaprio

Children are the anchors of a mother's life. --Sophocles

The most important thing a husband can do for his children is to love their mother. --Theodore Hesburgh

If evolution really works, how come mothers only have two hands. --Milton Berle

See you in print,

Linda Della Donna
Come journal with me;
your book is yet to be.

Happy Mother's Day!

Widow Tip: Life is for the living. Remember that.

New Day, New Favorite Quotations

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 19 Apr 2017 09:00:00 +0000

Happy Wednesday,
*says Pretend Kitty*

Today is a new day. It marks the first day of the rest of my life.

I'm a believer that there is always room for a new start no matter the day, month or year.

What about you dear widow? Are you a believer? No? Why not write about it?

Here are a few quotations. I hope they put a smile on your face, brighten your new day and inspire you to pick up a pen and write something.

"Take your broken heart, make it into art." --Carrie Fisher

"I gave it all that I had, and it's gratifying that others seem to be receiving it so well." --Debbie Fisher

"It's the friends you can call up at 4 a.m. that matter." --Marlene Dietrich

"I used to be Snow White, but I drifted." --Mae West

"If you've never been hated by your child, you've never been a parent." --Bette Davis

"Give a girl the right shoes and she can conquer the world." --Marilyn Monroe

"Never complain. Never explain." --Katherine Hepburn

"I don't believe in guilt; I believe in living on impulse as long as you never intentionally hurt another person. And don't judge people in your life. I think you should live completely free." --Angelina Jolie

"I can live without money but I can't live without love." --Judy Garland

"A gentleman is simply a patient wolf." --Lana Turner

"Be Kind to widows. We have friends in high places." --Linda Della Donna

And that's my ten cents today.

See you in print,

Linda Della Donna
Come journal with me;
your book is yet to be.

ThE E and mE

For Widows Only: Easter Greetings - 2017

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 16 Apr 2017 09:00:00 +0000

Widow Tip: Be your own best friend. Get up. Dress up. Show up. Take yourself someplace nice.

Mourning Joy:

Q: What goes best with peanut butter eggs?

A: Jelly beans!

Happy Passover, Pesach Sameach, Ed Sclier

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 10 Apr 2017 22:00:00 +0000

"Passover is celebrated with friends and family who eat ceremonial meals such as seders and cook traditional foods." -- The Sun

Happy Passover!

This is my favorite time of year. It is the time of honoring my husband's holiday and remembering the happy Seder dinners we shared. It is cause for celebration.

Now I'm off. Got a Yarhtzeit candle to light.

See you in print,

Linda Della Donna
Come journal with me;
your book is yet to be.

Widow Tip: It's okay to honor your past. Just don't live there.

Widow Funny: Here's a tip: If you're scared of elevators, take steps to avoid them.

In loving memory of Ed Sclier

Sara Shinn Pratt (Mrs. Wayne Pratt), The Club Nobody Wants to Join

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 08 Apr 2017 09:00:00 +0000

"I get just as much enjoyment out of selling a $2,500 great piece of furniture as I do selling a million-dollar one. It's all part of the fun of the antique business."
--Wayne Pratt

Today Griefcase honors the memory of famous antique dealer, Wayne Pratt and welcomes his wife, Sarah Sinn Pratt into the Club Nobody Wants to Join.

Wayne Pratt was the appraiser on public television's "Antiques Roadshow" for six seasons. He died on July 26, 2007 from complications following heart surgery. He was 64.

To Sarah and their 4 children, Griefcase extends deepest sympathies and mourning joy all the days of their lives.

Mourning Joy:

Something I read a long time ago:

When Braniff translated a slogan touting its upholstery, "Fly in Leather," it came out in Spanish as "Fly Naked."

What does the picture above have to do with famous antiques dealer, Wayne Pratt? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I just didn't have a photo of Mr. Pratt.

After we remember Him, fingerhug your pen. Open what I lovingly refer to as a joy-nal. Set a clock timer for fifteen minutes and write something.

Go ahead.

I dare you.

Have a joy-filled day.

:)L

The E

Mighty Muse,

Loyal Friend

Friends, Past and Present, Writing Ritual, Mourning Joy

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 05 Apr 2017 09:00:00 +0000

Epiphany: That moment in time when you realize the

friend you thought you had was never your friend at all.

--Linda Della Donna

Out my window there is rain today. It falls softly from the sky. It pings the aluminum shell of the air-conditioner resting on the sill; it wets leafless tree branches blowing in a hard breeze, it puddles the sidewalks and muddies the grassy knoll in the city where I live. I leash E, turn the key in the lock and together we walk.

Along the busy avenue there is the bleating sound of a speeding fire engine. It rips the air, a sign that danger is near. E sniffs a patch of grass. One. Blade. At. A. Time. In search of special spot to make water. And. I. wait. Patiently. Posed as an animal cracker.

My mind wanders...

This is my writing ritual. It is how I begin my day. This is the time when I do a practice write in my head.

I write about friends, those people I used to know in a past life when I was a wife. And I write ... Where are these friends now, what are these friends doing, who are these friends with?--Now. I write ... Has death touched their hearts, how are their loved ones, is every one of them healthy and do I ever cross their minds? I write ... I remember that time I was in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean and my kayak capsized and I fell in the water and got soaking wet. I write ... I got so mad when I learned my cell phone was in my pocket. ... I write ... I remember I ...

I am interrupted by the ringing of my cell phone. I pull it from my pocket, hold tight to E's leash with one hand and place it to my ear with the other, careful not to hit the disconnect button, careful not to drop it on E's head, careful not to drop it in the puddle I am standing over. The fire engine has passed. E still hasn't made water. Thoughts of my writing practice swirl my brain. I hear a small voice. It is 8 year old grand son asking, DaDe can I come over, and it is a beautiful sound, because as Diana Ross sings, I hear a symphony. Suddenly my brain is Jell-O. I am filled with Joy. And nothing matters. Save for the music in my ear.

This is my ever-changing morning writing ritual. All writers have one. And the sound of grand son's voice is what I lovingly refer to as mourning joy. All widows own mourning joy.

What about you dear widow? Do you have a writing ritual? Something that grounds you and inspires you to pick up your pen and write something? What is your mourning joy? I know you have that. Do you keep a journal?

Why not start keeping your journal or joy-nal today? Go ahead. Gve yourself permission. I dare you.

See you in print,

Linda Della Donna
"Come journal with me; your book is yet to be."

Widow Tip: Don't let a tight budget keep you from writing or keeping your journal. Your journal does not have to be expensive. A cheap spiral notebook, or hard covered children's school notebook, or a swatch of blank sheets of paper stapled together will work just fine. I was once was so desperate for writing paper, I used reverse sheets of copy paper saved from old drafts. I just crossed out the typing on one side, stapled them together and wrote on the blank sides. For inspiration, I pasted personal photographs on the top sheet. I hate to waste anything. But, that's just me.

Mourning Joy:

Q: Excuse me waiter, this coffee tastes like mud.

A: Yes sir, it's fresh ground.

Ty Woods, Dorothy Woods, Benghazi, the Club Nobody Wants to Join

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 03 Apr 2017 09:00:00 +0000

"I am comforted in that I knew that Ty was where he wanted to be,

and he did the best he could, and he saved American lives."

--Dorothy Woods

Today Griefcase welcomes into the Club Nobody Wants to Join, Gold Star widow, Dorothy Woods, wife of Tyrone Snowden Woods, Navy SEAL, hero of Benghazi, killed while defending the Benghazi compound during a long 13 hour battle on September 11, 2012.

Tyrone was born January 15, 1971 in Portland, Oregon. In 1969 he graduated from Oregon City High School. Woods then served 20 honorable years in the U. S. Navy. After that he joined the State Department Diplomatic Security Service as a U. S. embassy security operative. At the time of his death, Woods was a CIA contractor under a service contract, contracted to defend American Diplomats. On that fateful evening in Benghazi, on September 11, 2012, Ty Woods gave his life defending the beseiged U. S. Special Mission.

Among the many honors bestowed on Woods during his Naval career, in 2005-2006, he was awarded the Bronze Star Medal with Combat "V" for valor in Iraq.

The only son of Cheryl Bennett and Charles Woods, Tyrone Snowden "Rone" Woods leaves his parents, a younger sister, Tiffany Woods, three children, his beloved wife, Dorothy, and a nation of friends and well-wishers.

To Dorothy Woods and family, and every member of the Tyrone Woods family, Griefcase extends sincerest condolences and thanks you for your sacrifice. We are grateful.

Widow Tip: Never tell a widow, "...It's time to move on." Ever.

Mourning Joy:

Q: Why did the football coach shake the vending machine?

A: Because he needed a quarter back.

The E

Mighty Muse, Faithful Friend