CHAPTER 1

My Grief Story

I was born into grief in July of 1959 in Syracuse, New York. Mymother was unmarried and 18 years old when she gave birth to me.It was unheard of in 1959 for a woman to have a baby out of wedlockand keep it, so my mother gave me up for adoption. It would disgracethe entire family if she were to keep me and try to raise me as a singleparent. Two days later, my mother would drive to Rochester, New Yorkwith the social worker and place me in the Foster Care system.

I consider myself one of the lucky adoptees. After my birth, my mothernamed me Theresa Marie after Saint Theresa of Avila. I actually wasgiven a name which is more than what most other adoptees I've methave had. Before she placed me into the Foster Care system, she pinnedtwo medals to my tiny body. One was of Saint Theresa, and the otherwas the Divine Mother Mary which would be my protectors as I beganmy new adopted life. These medals along with a little yellow blanket wasall I took with me at 2 days old to a foster home that was as foreign tome as being on the planet earth. The abandonment, grief and loss of mymother began at 2 days old.

I lived in the foster home for a little more than 3 months. I have a letterwritten by the foster care mother who took care of me during that time.She included my habits, my schedule and some history on the way I wascared for. She noted that I wasn't called a name during that time andonly picked up and held at certain times of the day. A very strict schedulewas followed for food, baths and sleep with minimal intimacy. A childborn to its mother who stays with its mother never feels this separationfrom mother and the familiar, safe surroundings and familiar smellsand voices.

Never quite feeling these comforting and familiar surroundings createsan immediate crisis and trauma for the adopted child. I believe ouradoption system should be changed to give a birth mother and childa chance to be together for at least 8 weeks and then slowly integratethe adoptive parents into the child's life. This would give the biologicalmother time and opportunity to make an informed decision aboutrelinquishing her baby, a decision which would affect her and her childfor the rest of their lives. It would give the adopted baby time to havethe comfort and support of the familiar mother who carried the childfor 9 months. After 8 weeks, the baby would feel safe and supported,and the slow transition to the adoptive mother could be made in a lesstraumatizing way to the baby. The birth mother would have time toheal her body, emotions and mind as she relinquished her child withcertainty. In the animal world, we don't remove offspring from themother for 6 to 8 weeks or the offspring may die. This leads me to askthe question: Why do we do that to human babies?

I was adopted by a good German/Italian family on November 5th, 1959.Again, I was one of the lucky ones who had found a home with a motherand father. I was told early on at the age of 5 years old that I was, "pickedfrom all the other babies in the nursery" because I was a special child.When I was told that I was adopted at 5 years old, the only thing Iremember thinking is, I'm different somehow. I did look different thanthe rest of my family, so I believed I was a child who was special butdifferent. I began to see the differences more than the similarities as Itried to fit in and play the role of the chameleon adoptee who can fit intoany surrounding. However, by playing that role, it was the beginning oflosing myself and who I really was in the process at a time in a child'slife when it's so important to know the truth of who you are. As a child,I tried to please everyone around me; then in entering the adolescentyears, I started to rebel as a teenager.

There are two types of adoptees: the good adoptee and the bad adoptee.I was the rebel who was in search of myself at any cost and doing it myway. Therefore, I was the "bad" adoptee. I ran away from home, skippedschool on a regular basis and my friends became my family of choice.That is until I met the love of my life at 15. During this time, I wouldlearn that the only mother I had ever known had breast cancer. Thesetwo events would change my life forever.

This was the perfect combination of love and loss woven together. Thelove from my soon-to-be husband would support me through the loss ofthe mother I loved. I married Duane Peter Ruggles on July 31, 1977 oneweek after my 18th birthday. Duane was the first man I truly loved otherthan my adoptive father—and I needed him. I got pregnant with ourfirst child right away, and in April, 1978, our son Adam was born, just8 months before the death of my mother. I appreciated that my motherwas able to plan and attend my wedding and welcome the arrival of herfirst grandchild before she died. My mother battled breast cancer forabout 4 years and then lost the battle on December 10, 1978.

I was 19 when my mother died at a time in my life when I needed herthe most. I was just married with a new baby and had no idea how totake care of an infant, be a wife and grieve the loss of my mother allat the same time. I was the oldest child with an adopted brother whowas 7 years younger than me and 12 at the time of our mother's death.At 19 and a wife and new mother, I now had to step into the role ofsubstitute mother for my 12-year-old brother. Not only did I take onthe responsibility of my brother, but I was also helping my grievingfather raise a son without a mother. There was no time for me to grievebecause I had to be strong for the others. I would cry silently to myselfin isolation when I wouldn't be caught crying, and then I would have toshift to being the strong, responsible adult. I was wearing two masks,but underneath, my pain and grief was still there unresolved and alivewithin every cell of my mind, body and spirit.

As life went on, as it always does, I got pregnant with our second child,and 15 months after the birth of our son, we had our daughter, Rhonda,in July of 1979. My daughter was born the day after my birthday, so itwas so exciting to have my baby girl for my 20th birthday. Life seemed tobe getting better as I loved being a mom and wife. I had two beautifulchildren and a husband I loved. I thought life was grand. We bought ourfirst house right before the birth of our daughter, and I was making ournew house a home for our family. I always wanted a family of my own.Being adopted and never feeling like I fit, it was so wonderful that I nowhad a real blood family—my two children who looked like me. For me,my children healed my wounds of being adopted.

On November 11, 1980, my life would be forever changed again. Onthat cold autumn evening, I got a phone call in the middle of the nightfrom my brother-in-law, Gary telling me my husband Duane had beenkilled in a car accident. How could this happen? Duane was 25 and justadvancing in his career as a machinist. We had a beautiful home and twobeautiful children. Suddenly, I became a widow at 21 with 2 toddlers.The man who had supported me from the time I was 15 through mymother's battle with cancer and her death was now gone from my lifein one evening. I was alone, scared and I didn't have a clue what to do.There's no protocol for becoming a widow at 21 with two children. Thetwo closest people to me in the world were gone—and I was devastated.How do I go on?

Life goes on and those who supported me through those first few weeksafter Duane's death had now gone back to their own lives. But my lifewas torn apart and shattered forever. Everything I'd ever dreamed aboutand lived for was now gone. Yet it was clear to me that I had to go on formy children, even though I wished I could die too. It was my childrenwho motivated me to get out of bed every morning and continue withlife. However, I started drinking wine and taking prescription drugsalmost daily to fill the void in my heart. I knew I had created a problem,but I needed to get through the day, to sleep at night and to try not feelanything. I was just going through the motions of life and numbing myfeelings, because I knew if I gave into my emotions, I would surely fallcompletely apart. The trauma, the shock, the loss, the grief—these werein every cell of my mind, body and spirit. I didn't know what to do orhow to fix the incessant pain and heartbreak. You might understandwhat it feels like if you too ever lost someone you loved so much thatthere's nothing to help the emotional pain and heartbreak.

After a year of numbing the pain, crying and soul searching, a goodfriend told me something that shifted me, my consciousness and my life.He said, "Sandra, you have the ability to start a completely new life andfill it with whatever you choose, so go for it!" Within a few days of hiscomment, I visited a local park where Duane and I had spent some time.I began walking around the park, first very slowly, then picking up speedand power walking; then I began to run on a narrow pathway within thepark. While my body was in that place of releasing my stress and grief, Iheard a voice. God's voice told me I should move to California to start anew life and that I should have faith and go. At that moment, I began tolook at life differently, and I decided to travel to find myself and a newdream. I took my two children to Florida and then to California to visitand find my new beginning.

I decided to relocate with my two children to Sacramento, Californiafrom Rochester, New York to go back to school and get a college degree.I had two cousins living in California, and one was like my sister whilegrowing up in Rochester, so I was looking forward to living close to heragain. It was very hard for me to stay in Rochester in the home I hadwith Duane, because I was haunted by memories of the past. It was aconstant reminder of what I no longer had in my life, and I definitelyneeded a new environment to fully embrace my new future. I found thatI loved California and decided to stay and make it my new home. So, Irented out my home in Rochester and left for California taking only thethings that I needed to start a new life. It was a new beginning for meand my children. It was time to move forward towards the future andleave behind the painful past I'd endured.

Life got better in California for me. Eventually, I sold the home I hadbought with my husband Duane and bought a new home in Sacramentojust in time for my kids to attend school. I spent the next 9 years workingtowards my college degree while working in Real Estate and raising mychildren. I had two long-term relationships during that 9 years, but Iwasn't interested in marriage or having more children. Being a singlemom, a college student and working was all I could handle as I createda new life.

However, after graduating from California State University Sacramentowith a B.S. Degree in Business Administration, I met a man and decidedto get married again in 1992. I thought my Prince Charming had arrived.He was a well-established, wealthy real estate developer with the lifestyleof the rich and famous. After years of being a single mom, collegestudent and working hard to be sole supporter for my family, I was inlove and well taken care of. We had a beautiful hilltop custom home inNapa, California, a yacht to sail the San Francisco Bay and a lifestyle ofluxury with maids, gardeners and attendants. After 3 years of marriage,I knew I had made a big mistake and we divorced in 1995. It was anunhealthy marriage and the divorce dragged on for a year and a half. Ileft the marriage with only my personal belongings and went back to livein my home in Sacramento. Once again, I was starting over after the lossof my marriage and what I thought my life was to be. Now what? Thistime, though, it was clear to me that I was dealing with cumulative griefand loss, and it was in every cell of my mind, body and spirit.

After returning to Sacramento to live in my own home with my children,I reunited with friends and started dating again. It was at this time thatI started dating a good friend. We dated for a year and lived togetherfor four years and then in the year 2000 we got married. This is themarriage that has currently ended as I write this book. During this17 year relationship and 12 year marriage, my children left home, gotmarried and had children of their own. I went through the empty nestsyndrome when my children left home. It was not an easy time for mewhen they left after being a single mom for all those years and then tofinally be alone without my children. It was at this time that I reallyrealized what my husband and I had together and realized that we hadgrown miles apart. I had created a life without him as my childrencreated their lives because he wasn't interested in those things that Ihad grown to love. We loved each other but had two separate lives. Itwas during my separation from him and my search for self-discoverythat I found myself and the self-love that had been missing all thoseyears. What I wanted in my life and what was in front of me were milesapart, and I had to make some changes. So I did! This has resulted in thewriting of this book, Unlocking The Grief Code, and the "soul"utionsfor healing the mind, body and spirit.

However, the past 5 years had really become the catalyst for my healingand helping others heal from their grief and loss. My Dad got ill andwas diagnosed with dementia in 2007. In 2009, he was hospitalized forabout a month after an accidental fall and the thought of losing himthrew me into a tailspin. At the same time my Dad was hospitalized, Ihad been laid off from my current position where I had worked as anAsset Manager for a well known established bank that had just gonethrough a long and drawn out bank takeover. This was a very stressfultime in my life. Everything in my life was changing and shifting. Alsoduring this time, my adult children couldn't handle my emotionalstate and they refused to see or talk to me. They refused to let me seemy 4 grandchildren as well. I was devastated by the loss, and all thatcumulative grief came flushing back. The estrangement continued foryears, and I had to do something about the emotional pain that I wasexperiencing as a result of the grief and loss.

In 2010, it became clear that my life was a unique laboratory for my lifepurpose of helping others heal from the emotional pain of loss and grief.My personal journey of loss over the last 50+ years had given me a Ph.D.in Grief and Loss, and I was ready to do something about it. Because ofmy faith and spiritual beliefs, I trusted that this was all happening for agreater purpose even if I didn't understand it. However, I couldn't livewith the emotional pain anymore. You know that kind of pain that justtakes you out of the game of life and holds you hostage in every aspectof life. I was stuck and couldn't move forward; I couldn't go back andI didn't know what to do to relieve the emotional pain I was feeling. Ihad no control over what was happening, and I had come to terms withsurrendering to my higher power, accepting my situation and forgivingmyself and everyone involved. That's when I began to feel better, and theemotional pain I had endured was finally going away.

I knew that I was experiencing what is known as "The Dark Night of theSoul". This is when you can't go back to the life you had, you're stuck inthe pain and loss of the present and the only way through the pain andloss is to feel it, heal it and move forward. Move forward to what? That'sthe million dollar question.

My identity was changing to someone I didn't quite know yet. Theroles we play in life are suddenly interrupted by death, divorce, familyestrangements, job loss or any type of transition where we don't knowwho we are anymore, where we're going next, where we fit and what todo about it. While dealing with the emotional pain and loss, we're forcedto look at every aspect of our life. This is where I was, and maybe you'rethere right now too. This book is for you to use as a guide with toolsto heal your emotional pain more quickly and easily than I was ableto. According to Time Magazine statistics, it takes 5 to 10 years to healfrom grief due to a loss. With the right coach, support and tools for griefrecovery, I can promise you it doesn't have to take that long!