I love to talk about what's going on in our lives, mine and yours. In my newsletters, I focus on those things that bring us joy, as well as the tough stuff that comes with being human. Through Memoir, I write about some of my hard life experiences including dealing with family addiction and the struggles of finding a sense of place. I write about the importance of connection in building resilience and finding joy and peace in our daily lives - insulating ourselves from this sometimes crazy world. Share your email below to receive the newsletter every two weeks.
Joy and grief - how do they co-exist?
|
Dear Reader Joy and grief - how do they co-exist?In the past few newsletters, I've written about my visits to family in Australia. Now I'm writing to share that my darling sister passed away and I flew over again Saturday week ago to be with family and friends and attend her funeral. How precious it is to have a sister. A couple of months ago she was diagnosed with cancer - the kind that's difficult to eradicate. It was our joy to be able to spend some time together, just hanging out and reminiscing over the past 70+ years of our lives. We enjoyed sharing stories of our wonderful life together. We laughed. I cried. She had already come to terms with her diagnosis and was looking forward to the next stage - reunited with loved ones who have already made the transition. I cried, she comforted me, as she always did, with: "Stop your blubbering, Blanche." and, as she always did, she made me smile. Funerals are always a mix of sadness at our loss and joy at reuniting with loved ones not seen in a while. And this one was no exception. To see cousins and friends and nephews and nieces and their families - what joy - to see how 'adult' the younger generation has become, to meet a new baby, to remember my cousins, nephews and nieces as children I hadn't seen for a while. Then to listen to the music, to hear the stories, to see the photos - all that tell of a life well lived, of a heart that did her best. We laughed and cried as we remembered her - and we made new memories of her and of those who loved her too. How do joy and grief co-exist? It's a puzzle I've been pondering for the last month or so, and more so over this past little while. I've spent most of the past week with my daughter - in a rare opportunity for sharing and loving. We spent a whole afternoon scanning and talking about family photos - again sharing memories tinged with joy and sadness. At least 3 times when I didn't remember the person in the photo, I heard myself say that my sister will know. I couldn't ask her! It's hard to acknowledge she is not there at the end of the phone. That I'll never visit her in her home again. I've had enough losses over my lifetime to know the pain never goes away. I don't think that those who say it takes time don't really understand the nature of grief. What I do know is that life goes on, takes on its old way of absorbing our attention and wrapping itself around the grief. Life brings with it sudden memories that slam you back in the middle of the grief. And these memories come often at the moment when you are in the middle of fun times. I'm prepared for the future, only because I've been here before. But I'm not looking forward to it. Others' words bring wisdom to rely on. I love the words of Maya Angelou: Allowing yourself enough time for grieving can be the most beautiful gift you give yourself after a loss. Not that the grief ends, but that allowing yourself to let grief flow through you and wash over you has its own healing power. Maya Angelou also said: The best memorial to someone we love who is gone is to live fully and richly with whatever that person gave us. I've learned that, regardless of our relationship with those who have passed and whatever remains unfinished between us, that person we loved left us with something valuable. May we find the courage to fully remember the gifts they gave us in life and incorporate them into our lives to live fully and richly until our own time comes to go the way we are all designed. It's not hard for me to know what she left me. Besides the love of a sibling, I saw a graciousness in my sister during my last visits with her that was more pronounced than I'd seen before. She graciously extended love to those who struggled to understand what was happening to her. She was tired. She was in pain. Yet she acknowledged their need to know and gave them comfort. I hope I can be as gracious in my life. With love, always, Ages of Pages Book Fair - Hamilton, NZ May 2nd 2026 My daughter Phoebe and I will have a stand with our books at The Ages of Pages Book Fair at the Claudelands Events Centre. More on the event can be found on Facebook. Please pop in and come talk to us if you are in the area on Saturday. I haven't been publicising the event, so I'm sorry if this is new to you. My energies have been elsewhere, as you can imagine. I'd love to see you there. Why I Write - for you and for me too. Some stories come from lived experience, like navigating my son’s addiction and the long road of recovery. Others are shaped by imagination, like the cozy mystery I’m writing, set in a small café where trust is both tested and rebuilt. Some of my life stories still bring tears. Others make me smile. And many are filled with memories that warm my heart. I write for anyone who’s ever carried a burden across generations, and for anyone who longs to heal forward. I write to bring a little encouragement, comfort and joy into my life and yours. With love, My thoughts for Living Life in 2026 and beyond: "My religion is kindness" Dalai Lama “Cast your bread upon the waters and it will Doris May Payne - my mother "Life is a Daring Adventure or Nothing" Helen Keller “Write it on my heart that every day is Ralph Waldo Emerson "Remember that sometimes not getting “I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave [person] is not [the one] who does not feel afraid, but [the one] who conquers that fear.” Nelson Mandela Read past Newsletters and, if you enjoy them, www.StephanieHammondAuthor.com FOLLOW ME |
Hi! I'm Stephanie Hammond
I love to talk about what's going on in our lives, mine and yours. In my newsletters, I focus on those things that bring us joy, as well as the tough stuff that comes with being human. Through Memoir, I write about some of my hard life experiences including dealing with family addiction and the struggles of finding a sense of place. I write about the importance of connection in building resilience and finding joy and peace in our daily lives - insulating ourselves from this sometimes crazy world. Share your email below to receive the newsletter every two weeks.
Dear Reader Living in Hope in Today's World We love where we live and mostly this is because of the people who live and work throughout our neighbourhood: people from the United Kingdom, the Philipines, Malaysia, India, China, the Middle East and Africa, to name a few. Our little street reflects this mix as well. I marvel at the empathy and respect we have for each other's culture and way of life. Most of all, I notice the depth of love and compassion threaded throughout our interactions with...
Dear Reader The Power of Family The power of family was brought home to me on Sunday through a documetary we saw at a movie theatre in Hamilton. Tenor - My Name is Pati was recommended to us by several friends so we knew we were in for a treat. It's the story of Pene Pati and his brother Amitai Pati's journey from Samoa to success in the trio Sol3 Mio, and onto the world's great opera stages. I know a little of Samoan family culture through my son-in-law and his family - predominantly through...
Dear Reader Travelling to see My Sister After three weeks or so since my recent visit, I’m back here in Australia, visiting family again. This time I’m travelling alone. I’m no stranger to solo travelling and I admit I love it. However, this time it felt like I was on an automated conveyor belt, passing through the landscape at my own pace but in a set order and direction, to be plonked in my airline seat and then spat out the other side into the arms of my niece Jane who came to pick me up....