The End

So concludes my experience with Grief-Share.
Last night (Wednesday, October 10, 2012) was my final session.
I started attending the Grief-Share in July because my beloved wife of over 44 years died of cancer April 17 of this year, which left me devastated and heartbroken.
I started at the suggestion of a dear friend who daycares my dog.
I’m still devastated and heartbroken, although perhaps not as much as when I first attended.
A grief-share is not a grief-cure. If there’s any “healing,” it’s from sharing grief with others in similar circumstances.
People who have lost spouses, children, valued parents.
I attended all but two sessions, and couldn’t then because I had other commitments.
The Grief-Share was every Wednesday, and on Wednesdays in late September I was driving long distances to -1) northern DE, and -2) Altoona, PA.
Northern DE was my 50th high-school reunion (I graduated in 1962), and Altoona was a train-chase (I’m a railfan, and have been since age-2 [I’m 68]).
I was a little leery of this Grief-Share because it’s church-sponsored, but it was closest.
It’s only 20-25 minutes away. Others were 45-55 minutes away. 25 minutes going, and then 25 minutes returning, is almost an hour transit-time.
If the grief-share is two hours or slightly more, I’m leaving the dog in my house maybe three hours.
Two 45-minute trips plus two or more hours for the grief-share approaches four hours, too long to leave the dog in the house.
55 minutes (one way) or more, a trip to Rochester, is impossible.
So I worried about church-affiliation.
Plus this church is arm-wavers.
But they’re not obnoxious about it. They’re not ramming their religion down my throat, or telling me I’m reprehensible.
If they had, I doubt I would have done as much as I did.
So now what? I’ve been offered various options that seem more religiously-based than Grief-Share.
I’ll probably pass.
I seem to be recovering without heeding the alter-call.
Most in my grief-share claim they couldn’t get by without religion.
Yet I have a friend who lost her husband, and she’s not a zealot.
In fact like me I don’t think she shows religious proclivities at all.
I honestly don’t think religion is a cure for grief.
The cure for grief is time getting used to my loss.

• My current dog is “Scarlett” (two “Ts,” as in Scarlett O’Hara), a rescue Irish-Setter. She’s seven, and is our sixth Irish-Setter, a high-energy dog. (A “rescue Irish Setter” is an Irish Setter rescued from a bad home; e.g. abusive or a puppy-mill. [Scarlett was from a failed backyard breeder.] By getting a rescue-dog, we avoid puppydom, but the dog is often messed up. —Scarlett isn't bad. She’s our third rescue.)
• The Grief-Share was in nearby Canandaigua. (“Canandaigua” [“cannan-DAY-gwuh”] is a small city to the east nearby where I live in Western NY. The city is also within a rural town called “Canandaigua.” The name is Indian, and means “Chosen Spot.” It’s about 14 miles away. I live in the small rural town of West Bloomfield in Western NY, southeast of Rochester.)
• “Alter-call” equals get religion, accept Christ as your savior. One accepts Christ by agreeing to the alter-call (invitation to accept Christ; a call to the church’s alter). Fervent believers in religion are “zealots.”