Yesterday was a wonderful day. While standing in line at the pharmacy the gentleman behind me smiled. Seriously, I don’t go to the CVS to make friends but somehow yesterday I did.

In my younger days I thought I could control change.  I learned, and not quickly I would add, that no one can control or stop change anymore than one can hold back the tides or halt the autumn leaves transforming from green to gold.  This brings me to today's topic of change and how to understand it and accept its daily invitation.

Have you lost someone so special you feel you can never be happy again?   I ask this question because sooner or later we will all be hit with a loss we think we cannot bear.  No one escapes it. 

Consider the recent death of Senator Ted Kennedy.  During his life he looked grief and personal tragedy in the eye many times.  The Senator, as other giants before him, will be missed.  His family, as all families, will have to wrap themselves around their monumental loss, cling together, and go forward.  They and we know that no one can ever take the place of the beloved deceased person. 

As humans, we wonder if we can ever overcome the pain and loss we feel.  We doubt we can go on and find hope again.  But we can and these are my suggestions to help.

First, make the decision to live which means you get out of bed every day and put your feet down on the floor.  Your life is a gift even if you don't feel that way right now.  Be grateful for your life, even the sad parts, for pain opens the heart more fully.  Also, others who love and depend on you need you there physically, emotionally and spiritually. 

Second, allow yourself time to grieve your loss every day - not every single moment, mind you - but actively by taking a walk and meditating on your specific loss, lighting a candle with your loss in mind, having a cry.  Also, try writing your longings in a private journal; your expressed feelings are crucial to making it through your dark night of the soul.  Consider doing something for someone else like bringing an elderly relative or neighbor a pot of soup or a delicious treat.  Maybe take a lonelier person to church, temple or synagogue.  And if you have children or grandchildren … oh, the joy to hug them.  If you have a mate or a friend … turn toward them, not against them.

Third, pray for the grace and courage to accept your now life.  You will probably go through the stages of grief and loss (Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance) more than once, but remember to reflect more on your many present blessings and less so on your past sorrows.  I know it's hard but you can do it, you really can.

Dear Friends, there is an appointed time for everything and we must surrender to it.  "A time for every purpose under the heavens.  A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to uproot the plant…a time to heal…A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance." (Ecclesiastes 3:1-4)

Yes, there is a time to hope again and this is the time, the time to Make Every Day Matter.

Mary Jane Hurley Brant, M.S., CGP

Author of When Every Day Matters: A Mother's Memoir on Love, Loss and Life

Simple Abundance Press, Oct. 1, 2008

My grandmom taught me a valuable lesson:  it’s easier catching bees with honey than with vinegar.  I was given the name “Mary” because of her and her devotion to The Blessed Mother.  My mother, father, brother, sister and I lived upstairs in her roomy old Victorian house until she died in 1957.   She did not die alone - her ten living children surrounded her bedside praying the rosary.  In my Catholic upbringing, Grandmom’s death was referred to as “a happy death” because she was in the state of grace when God took her back.  But from the way everyone cried, it didn’t seem real happy to me.  Grief wears a sorrowful face.

Grandmom called her home “Grand Central Station” because so many of her children gave birth to so many children and they were always coming over to visit.  My mother’s siblings visited often and frequently an impromptu party resulted.  Three of her daughters - Sarah, Eleanor and Dorothy – sang Maguire sister tunes in perfect harmony.  It made everyone happy, especially Grandmom.  In our town, everyone called her, “Mom” because she was everyone’s mom.  That impressed me as a kid; convinced me that “Mom” was not simply a name, but a title of enormous respect.  Besides she always made me feel special: paid me a dime to dust under her dining room table and fed me M & M’s just for being cute. 

Grandmom was unselfconscious and made me laugh hysterically sliding those false teeth of hers in and out whenever I asked her to. But her funniest trick was taking her teeth out all together and putting them in a glass.  Now, when you’re nine years old, that’s a real conversation stopper.  She loved playing fish and Old Maids and for some bizarre reason, I always picked the Old Maid card which made her laugh and slap her knee.  It taught me that making someone else happy made me happy too.  I especially loved seeing her happy. When we finished playing, I would roll down her thick cotton stockings and rub her legs with Witch Hazel.  Poor Grandmom, her veins were so swollen and sore that it always made me want to cry.  She would smile though; close her kind hazel colored eyes and sigh, “Thank you, Mary Jane.”

Mary Josephine also taught me humility.  She wanted to go to confession every week; wanted to tell her sins, admit to her wrongdoings.  Finally, the young Irish priest she confessed to said, “Mrs. McCart, please don’t be coming every week.  Ya have no sins; ya don’t need to be coming.”  She was insulted and began crying saying she had lots of sins.  She didn’t.  She was as good as gold.

Grandmom also taught me that every woman needed specific things to acknowledge her personal style. She herself owned a hand carved cedar chest.  In it, wrapped in tissue paper, was a fur collar, glamorous, black, and silky smooth.  She would let me wear it whenever I played “dress ups.”  She said it was made of bear fur. Wow, I never heard of someone having anything made of real bear fur so I figured she was secretly rich and exotic.  She stored lots of hats in that chest too; my family was big on hats. My mother herself had a great many: velvet hats with rhinestone-studded veils and feathers, woolen fedoras in five different colors. Mom, however, stored hers away in the attic, but I had strict orders not to venture up there.  And while I listened to Mom’s orders, I disobeyed them every chance I could whenever she left the house and I was inclined. What kid wouldn’t?

That attic was another world where I sat for hours at her youngest sister Dot’s Hollywood style vanity with the three mirrors and put on her Dorothy Gray face powder and lip stick. My Aunt Dot’s marriage name was Gray so I thought that was another sign that we were a famous family.  And here’s where some more role modeling from Grandmom seeped in: how to keep things to yourself.  You see, she knew I was up there playing where I wasn’t supposed to be, but she never told on me because “it was our secret.”

Grandmom endorsed prudence - certainly where alcohol was concerned - because she thought drinking was the direct pathway to the devil and this was during the post WWII days of black seamed stockings, highballs and Lucky Strikes dangling from movie star lips. Back then, guys went to bars that they called ‘tappies’ and had separate entrances from the women. I thought that very weird.  In our family, if anyone wanted a drink and wanted to stay in Grandmom’s favor, they had better have their beer or whiskey on the sly.  And sometimes my father did just that at a tavern in walking distance from our home.   This watering hole was called “Conways” but no one ever used the name, instead, everyone called it “That Place” so Grandmom wouldn’t find out.  My dad would tell her and my mom that he was taking my brother Frank and me out for a few hours. The ‘where’ part was a surprise.  All of a sudden, my brother and I found ourselves at “That Place,” sitting on a spinning stool, drinking root beer in a frosty mug and munching on salted nuts from little bags with Mr. Peanut’s picture on it.  Mr. Peanut being the guy walking around on the Ocean City Boardwalk in front of a place called ‘The Nut House.’

It was great hanging out with our dad in ‘that place,’ ‘this place,’ or ‘any place.’ It was great that is until my mother heard about where we went.  Then it was my father and my brother who would go.  I was my own woman at five and my mother telling me, “That Place is no place for a girl” incited me first to demanding an explanation as to why, then to a full explosion of temper because her explanation simply made no sense! My mother said, “Mary Jane, you are too demanding!”  Throughout the years I’ve come to appreciate the power of that word “demanding” because translated, what it really means is, “I know what I want and I won’t stop until I get it!” Even back then whenever I stood up for my rights, or stamped my foot repeatedly, Grandmom would simply smile and say, “Maybe we can talk about this later after we make some candy apples.”  You see, she was a genius for using that honey I spoke about earlier.  She worked with me like the early missionaries worked with people - they fed them first.

But Grandmom’s loving nature was her real honey.  Heaven knows her sweet and saintly disposition captured everyone’s heart.  She was an indelible blessing in my childhood and I was fortunate for all of the lessons I learned, literally, at her knee.  Because of Mary Josephine Finnerty McCart I always hear the sound of bees buzzing all around me.  I always have hope.

Mary Jane Hurley Brant, M.S., CGP

Author of When Every Day Matters: A Mother's Memoir on Love, Loss and Life

Simple Abundance Press, Oct. 1, 2008

People need our prayers.  Today I realized how many people count on other people praying for them.  A friend of mine is trying to conceive and it just so happens I will be visiting a nursing home for infirm nuns this very afternoon.  I told my friend as I hugged her goodbye.  I told her that these little nuns, angels really, pray all day for others.  It’s their ministry.  Honestly, I’ll bet this time next month this friend will be expecting.

I have a lot of faith.  Some people wonder how I could after loosing a child.  In the beginning I was too numb to pray, too sad to even think.  While I’m educated in psychology it was my faith that helped me, my belief in God.  My prayers sustain me still.  They give me a road map for living.  They give me hope.

People need us to pray for them.  Who can you pray for today?

Mary Jane Hurley Brant, M.S., CGP

Author of When Every Day Matters: A Mother's Memoir on Love, Loss and Life

Simple Abundance Press, Oct. 2008

It's August, let's talk about your child leaving for college.  Yes, I know it brings up many feelings.  One minute you're laughing with them at a Blue Light Special, the next minute you're dissolving into tears.  The thing about being a parent is that when we finally master one stage of development with our kids, they catapult into the next.

Leaving for college is a big transition for a family.  For many parents it feels like a little death.  In a way it is - death to the original family construct.  Think about it, for years the focus has been researching prospective colleges, visiting them, talking about what subjects to study, filling out applications, writing essays, meeting deadlines.  Then there was waiting for acceptances with hopes and dreams being realized or crashed simultaneously with every daily mail delivery.  

Suddenly, the day arrives: the rental van is packed like a biblical camel trying to move through the eye of the needle.  Some reports say the camel had to get down on its knees to squeeze through the historical gate.  Parents may feel this moment brought them to their knees, too.

When you arrive on campus the excitement is astounding.  Where did all these people come from?  But inside, right below the exhilaration, we moms feel an aching sadness and an unexpressed fear, "Will she be all right"?  If we dig a little deeper, we wonder "Will I be all right"?  Here, let me help make up your bed. 

These eleventh hour 'momness' acts are understandable – raising our children took 18 years to master!   We fed, clothed, drove, enrolled, counseled and consoled this curious, intelligent, talented, creative, petulant genius that we have loved since the first words, "you're pregnant."  And dad?  He wants his kids to stay away from the beer keg, stay out of trouble and stay permanently on the dean's list.  He also realizes his son's yelling over nothing last night was a face-saving technique that 'the dad' didn't take personally.  He understands how acting mad keeps everyone from feeling painful separation anxiety.

My dear friends, millions of parents have made it through this transition and you will, too.  Realize lots of parents look back wistfully on the days of Dr. Denton's and Santa Claus.  Understand the new way your kids need you now.  Assure them they will be fine, you have confidence in their intellectual capabilities, they will make lots of friends and you're only a cell phone call away.  When you turn to get back into the van, pull out your calendar, put the first parent's weekend on it, smile as you do, then confidently hug them goodbye.  As you drive away, pray they won't do what you did when you were their age, shout out the window to make Every Day Matter and promise them you'll do the same! 

You did a great job giving them wings, Mom and Pop, now let yourself delight in their first solo flight that every parent knows is a triumph and a terror for the student and the instructor.

Mary Jane Hurley Brant, M.S., CGP

Author of When Every Day Matters:

A Mother's Memoir on Love, Loss and Life

Simple Abundance Press, Oct. 1, 2008

Some girls have all the luck they say.  Well, I think when we have angels working for us from the other side we have an easier shot at the luck.  Recently my daughter, Katie, must have been pulling for me to be featured in the Villanova Alumni Magazine Summer Issue 2009.  Here's the link but you have to go to page 5 to read  http://bit.ly/DoRIL  She was the most hopeful person I have ever had the pleasure to know and – I might add – to love.

I think it's important to be hopeful in our lives even when it is harder to do so after we have had a significant loss of someone that we love.  A spiritual life makes it easier.  Faith makes it easier.  I could not get out of bed without either. 

So let's keep our eyes on heaven.  Let's remember that we are all in this journey together.  Let me offer you my hand, a hand of hope that you will make it through your dark night of the soul. 

Millions of people have lost their jobs in this economy so let's talk about managing the stress of a job search.  Anyone who is in this situation, or loves someone who is, might consider these six suggestions….

Step One - Do not internalize a job loss or job search into your personal identity.  Whether you are a new graduate or a semi-retired person whose 401K was cut in half this year, you are not in this situation because of your personal failure.  The Bureau of Labor Statistics reported in May, 2009 that 7.0 million people have been out of work since December 2007 in the US alone.  A lot of good people lost their jobs.

Step Two – Remember those things you do well.   Looking for work often erodes confidence and makes people forget how terrific they are at many things. 

Step Three - Allow yourself to grieve the loss of the old job so you don't succumb to paralyzing fear searching for a new position.  Reading my book, When Every Day Matters, will help you to sort out and process your losses.  It will help you to find hope again. 

Step Four - Think about what you miss in the old job (besides the income, which I appreciate is important) because knowing what you miss clarifies what you should look for.  For example, if you enjoyed the camaraderie at your old job, a small office - with few people to talk to - just won't do.  Also, identify your personal stress points.  For example, does constant noise make you feel jittery?  Then don't work under a bridge or somewhere that the background music is hard rock.  Are you sensitive to strong odors?  Might want to pass on restaurant work.  If deadlines worry you stay away from project management.

Step Five – Ask yourself if you are angry.  If you are, commit to working through your anger because it could be a sign of depression.  Not every depression wears a sad face.  Loosing a job can understandably make a person angry; it's a big loss, but unprocessed anger can hurt you in an interview.  Why?  Because your underlying attitude about the old job loss comes across in body language. When I find I'm stuck in a place of anger I try to think in broader, more spiritual perspectives.  I ask myself what new door wants to open in me that I may have never known was there before.  I also try to let go of needing to control a situation that is not in my control.  God grant all serenity here.

 Step Six - Consider a health checkup and talk with your doctor about your circumstances; he or she is there to help.  You may even benefit from a temporary medication due to serotonin depletion which sometimes occurs when we're hit with major stress or loss. 

Lastly, use this search time to get some rest and relaxation and make Every Day Matter. Once you land that new job you won't have the chance for a sweet refreshing cat nap! 

Mary Jane Hurley Brant, M.S., CGP

Author of When Every Day Matters

Simple Abundance Press, Oct. 1, 2008

The Four Seasons of Marriage

Let's talk about the four seasons of marriage: Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter.  Usually we think of marriage as a relationship with our partner but it can also be the state of marriage solely within us called "the inner marriage."  The inner marriage is an intimate relationship with ourself.  We need a strong inner marriage of love, appreciation, understanding and respect for ourself in order to experience the serenity, joy, and connection attainable in an outer marriage.

The Spring of Marriage is when matrimony begins. We are often young and overflowing with boundless excitement, optimism and desire.  We start this first phase believing – unconsciously - that our partner is here to save our life and fulfill every expectation we ever dreamed possible.  We are full of projections. In this early stage of development we rarely see the essence of the man or woman before us because we are so blinded by the light of the mythological god or goddess who blocks our view.  We take our wedding vows, "Please heal me of every pain and love me forever." Well, we didn't say that but that's what most of us thought.   It's a young and hopeful dream.  We are in love and often madly so.

The Summer of Marriage is when we often bring children into the world.  These precious little ones fill our lives with love, fun, pressure and (ugh!) adult responsibility.  As the children grow, husbands and wives may argue that the spouse is not who we thought they were!  We may even wonder if we are who we thought we were.  Enter the mid-life crisis.  It can be a stressful time of struggle. 

Later in this phase of the marriage cycle children will fly away from the carefully constructed family nest and into their brand new lives, just as their mother and father did.  Husbands and wives now begin to surrender and let them go, albeit a little sadly.  It's an emotionally healthy and necessary choice. "Sunrise, sunset, swiftly flow the days" go the words from Fiddler on the Roof.  No wonder that song makes so many couples cry.

Then we look around.  It's so quiet.   The voice of Spirit whispers, "Something needs to change."  We think the something is our mate.  "If only he…, if only she …," Eventually we recognize it is not our mate but we who must change.  We begin to understand that the inner marriage is of monumental importance.  We commit to know ourself again.  This commitment provides immediate insurance not just for us but for our couple relationship.  It feels good.  Understanding this inner marriage also makes boundaries clear, "I stop here and you start here."  Sometimes people are fearful that introspection might separate them.  It could, but at least it's honest.  

When we work to connect the inner marriage with our outer marriage we begin to appreciate the real glory in our spouse.  We also begin to see the first authentic wrinkles of responsibility for our own life, too, and we begin to grow up.  Of course, sometimes it doesn't all work out and couples do separate permanently.  But if that should occur at least each party has the satisfaction of knowing who he or she is and can apply it non-defensively for the good of the children and grandchildren involved.  Not every relationship was made in heaven.

The Autumn of Marriage is about transition.  We watch our children raising their children.  We graciously step back and let them live their own lives.  We give them space when they need it.   We throw our arms around the joy our grandchildren bring and pitch in whenever we can help.  Watching our families grow is so full of wonder we want everyone to stop growing!  But respecting time's natural rhythm - especially when feeling astonished - helps us move right along with the changing tides as we consider what we want to do with our life now.  Some want the pleasure of work, some the pleasure of play, and some want a combination.  Being open to every new idea will see us through.  That is key, keep it fresh. 

The Winter of Marriage is when we enter into the final season of marriage with another or with ourself alone for death or choice or fate may have put us there.  So we pray for everyone's good health.  We are reflective and thoughtful.  We live in our souls more.  We recognize and give thanks for all the important moments in our life and for those we've met along the way who have helped us to transform, evolve and grow.  We look forward to any final gifts of grace this season will provide.  We reach for our partner's hand or put our hand over our heart to touch the symbolic hand of our inner partner.  We read Yeats.  We read Rilke.  We smile.  We pray.  We make Every Day Matter.

Mary Jane Hurley Brant, M.S.

Author of When Every Day Matters:

A Mother's Memoir on Love, Loss and Life

Simple Abundance Press, Oct. 1, 2008

Sometimes it can feel discouraging when you are out there searching for a job.  If you feel that way today, look over this link about a retreat day I took part in to encourage you in the looking.  http://bit.ly/2FPzzs