First Creatures A Journey Through Grief
by Tami Liberati
In my novel, First Creatures A Journey Through Grief delves into the tangled healing process of complicated grief. Grief is an unavoidable yet normal experience and can sometimes take an intense twist, hence the name, complicated. Symptoms of complicated grief, also known as prolonged grief disorder, include denial, disturbing thoughts of the deceased and death, and even hallucinatory experiences. All of these symptoms mimic psychiatric disorders if it weren't for the fact that grief is involved. Complicated grief occurs only in a small percentage of those grieving, but is more likely to occur following a death that is traumatic, violent, or unexpected.
As intense as complicated grief may be, recovery is attainable and hopeful through traumatic grief therapy. Treatments involving cognitive behavioral methods for traumatic symptoms and stress relief, combined with interpersonal techniques to encourage re-engagement with the world, have proven greatly effective.
First Creatures A Journey Through Grief is the story of Ruth Lily's journey through complicated grief exasperated by symptoms of dissociative amnesia. Taking place in Annapolis, Maryland, Ruth struggles to regain the normalcy of everyday life having lost her husband one year prior yet not remembering how. Ruth's family and close friends follow strict orders from her grief counselor to not speak of her husband's death while keeping a close watch over her and giving her the time she needs to fill in the blanks. As Ruth strives to make progress with the help of specific grief work projects, she continues to live in denial, unable to remember the events that led to her husband's death, and oblivious to what only others can see.
First Creatures A Journey Through Grief is enjoying its debut. It is now available for sale through Amazon and Kindle.
Enjoy a sneak peek of the first three chapters of First Creatures A Journey Through Grief
FIRST CREATURES A JOURNEY THROUGH GRIEF
By Tami Liberati
PROLOGUE
The mercury rose steadily through dawn on the beginning of the third day as the garden inhabitants were once again preparing for another record setting, sweltering afternoon. Few stirred due to the impending heat, and chose instead, to hunker down in the safety of shade. Many of them had already moved about earlier in the garden, nibbling on night’s juicy leaves and roots; anything for water. Most of them had also noticed and pondered the figure that lay curled on its side, covered in dirt and compost. Though it didn’t belong in the garden in this manner, it was still and didn’t bother them.
As the sun relentlessly climbed into its high noon position, nothing was spared of its damaging effects. Though once cared for regularly, the garden was now suffering from exhaustion, and its leaves curled closed and wilted in neglect.
Perhaps sensing that the end was near, the figure stirred. She was no longer perspiring, and her skin was taking on a reddish, dry hue. Her rapid heartbeat was weakening, and her breaths were now shallow. Her body craved water, needed water, and her core temperature, like that of the mercury, was rising. Through blurred vision in her depleted state, she sensed wildlife peering at her. Without meaning to, she uttered the smallest groan that was perceived as a plea, and in return, one creature moved. Judging that the intruder was in dire need, it pulled down a wide striped leaf toward her open mouth and allowed the smallest trickle of life saving water to transfer to her tongue. Immediately, her moistened breath rose from her mouth and into the animal’s face, causing it to pull back quizzically and cock its head to one side.
Fearing another animal would help, she pushed away. The heat had robbed her of any strength or will she had left, and it took all her ability to turn away.
“No,” was all that escaped in a raspy whisper. The creature understood her final wish, gently stepped back, but remained close.
Shutting her eyes again, her thoughts spiraled in reverse to a time of long ago, when laughter lived and love began. She felt at peace and longed to stay in this state that knew no pain. The creatures were curious about her so they remained close and watched, and it wasn’t until the sound of quickly approaching footsteps and sirens did they scurry into hiding.
CHAPTER ONE
Two steady beeps from the back of the kitchen announced the completion of the coffee cycle, causing the chocolate lab lying close by to open one eye lazily in anticipation of what would follow. As expected, footsteps scuffed their way toward her and brought the start of a new day as lights flickered on and shutter slats opened. "There you are, Martha. I thought I might find you out here," Ruth said to her beloved companion as she did every morning. Like clockwork, she opened the back door for Martha and bent down to get her water bowl. "Another day started and another day running through the motions," she thought to herself as she prepared her coffee. She let Martha in and took her place in a rocking chair; the same chair in which she sat every day. As she cocooned herself deeper in the chair, she kicked off her slippers and allowed her toes to brush over Martha's back, and while doing so, coaxed herself to relax. She breathed in slowly as she sipped her coffee and wondered, as she did every morning, if this would be the day she would remember.
She often began her day in the back room of her house, her favorite room, in her much loved rocking chair. She'd look out to the back yard with its gardens, stone walls, paths and woods beyond, taking in the beauty and peacefulness they once provided. She didn't mind the quiet mornings in her home; they were actually peaceful for her. It was the blatant emptiness upon returning home to an empty house in the afternoon that got to her, so she sat quietly at the moment, daring to think back to happier times.
It had been almost a year since the well established life that Ruth once led abruptly ended. She had lost her beloved husband, Roger, eleven months prior and missed him terribly. She had never known such pain, but had been told repeatedly by well wishers that time would heal her wound. She certainly hoped so because she was reminded every day with stares and whispers that she was not healed. She was aware that her prolonged grief was unusual, and that some thought her to be odd because of it. Others, such as her son, were frustrated with her. She had overheard a private conversation between co-workers who didn't understand how her son could stand it. What 'it' was, she didn't know. Others, she'd heard say, that 'it' was right in front of her face; how could she not know. She had given up trying to figure out what was what anymore.
According to her grief therapist, she should be able to discuss her husband and the events that led to his death, but as of today, she couldn't. So much of her former life remained a mystery to her, and it hurt too much to think back in time. Trying to remember what happened to Roger caused all the symptoms of panic, and Ruth desperately avoided it at all costs. Shaking, hyperventilating, and eventually, shut down, meant hospitalization, and she wouldn't allow it again. So instead, without actually meaning to, she suppressed much of her former life and memories to the point of partial amnesia. Her therapist explained to her that she was suffering from dissociative amnesia as well as experiencing symptoms of a prolonged grief syndrome called, complicated grief. With time and a hands on plan that her therapist had put together, she believed Ruth would recover. Ruth liked her therapist, and certainly hoped she was correct because she had the strangest sensation that life was continuing without her. Little did Ruth know that her days were about to change again, for at that very moment, at that very time, on what appeared to be as normal a day as possible for Ruth, she began to heal. For in her gardens, where she had once traded life for death, it was determined that the time was now.
CHAPTER TWO
The morning light was just beginning to provide enough clarity for her to enjoy the view, and the fog was beginning to lift when she first caught sight of movement at the oak tree. This particular tree sits way back in the garden, located in a higher section, but she could see it from the angle in which she was sitting. It wasn’t much movement that she noticed, and it was close to the bottom of the tree. She was used to catching glimpses of animals in the early morning so she leaned forward to get a better view. While trying to focus, she thought she saw the tree’s trunk expanding a bit. Still thinking that an animal would come into view, she waited, whispering, “Come a little closer.” It was then that she saw it. She blinked a few times and opened her eyes wide. It wasn’t the tree widening, though, but some sort of creature forming itself out of the trunk.
And so it came to be that the change for which Ruth had been waiting had begun. She had imagined it differently, though. She thought her memories would slowly seep back to her and be cause for celebration within her family. She envisioned making the phone call to her son letting him know the good news, and that life would now be able to continue in a way that most lives do. What she didn't expect was this; fear, bewilderment, and more confusion. She had never given it a thought that she might slip even further backward in the healing process. She never thought that she might start hallucinating. But as she sat mesmerized by what was happening, a whole new realm of mystification entered this picture; her life.
Early that morning while darkness painted its last few moments, fog lightly played with the blackened air. Because of outdoor lighting in the backyard, particles of fog mist could be seen ever so delicately dancing, bouncing, and twitching as they settled toward their journey’s end. To say the creature was timid and meek was putting it mildly. It slowly and gently evolved from the trunk of an oak tree and quietly stood guard against the steadfast trunk, unsure of its purpose.
It kept its back to the trunk with its palms also against the tree and its head turned sideways toward Ruth. It resembled a frog standing upright on its hind legs and it stood about four feet tall. Its skin was tan and rough like that of a reptile and Ruth noticed that it had long skinny fingers with knobby knuckles. Its legs were very knock-kneed and its feet stuck out at a ninety-degree angle from its legs. This made its feet appear way too large for its physique. It was dressed in a tattered sheath which appeared to be rather dirty. Ruth stared without blinking while taking in the creature, and when she finally looked at its face, she gasped inwardly at its eyes. They were huge and full of sorrow. She jumped backward in her chair, crying out. She felt such sadness, and yet, she didn't understand. She cried out again and thought she would be sick. It was as if she could see directly through its eyes, yet they were looking at her. She wanted to look away, but simply couldn't. The creature never moved and Ruth held her breath as their eyes remained locked. Just as she thought she could no longer bear it, the oven timer beeped in the kitchen, signaling her to get going. The sudden break in concentration with the creature was all it took for it to shrink back into the tree.
“No!” she yelled, jumping up and pressing into the sliding glass door as the creature disappeared. Gasping for air, she fell to her knees, still searching. She remained on the floor as she steadied her breathing, wondering what had just happened. And as her thoughts cleared, she realized the heaviness in her heart had disappeared.
What just happened? She replayed in her mind what she had seen. She was not dreaming! That much she knew. Was she hallucinating? Was this a panic attack? She squeezed her eyes tightly a couple of times and shook her head. "No, I don't think so," she reassured herself out loud. But, she knew she had seen a creature and she knew it had seen her, too.
CHAPTER THREE
The remainder of that day was nothing more than a blur to Ruth. She ended up being fifteen minutes late for school because she was so uneasy about what had occurred. She burnt her toast, forgot to pack a lunch, and left her school bag by the door. She didn’t have duty on the parking lot that morning, so slipping in late was no big deal.
She was able to get through the normal greetings with her grade partners that morning without any suspicion on their part, but she was definitely out of sorts by the time morning recess came around. She couldn't wait for the last student to leave so she could close her eyes for a few minutes. She couldn't make sense of what she had seen and found herself slipping into the restroom a couple of times just to see herself in the mirror. Could anyone tell what had happened? Could she have been dreaming? She didn't think so. In fact, she was confident she had been awake. Should she share this with her grade partners, her true confidants? They already knew everything she'd been through this past year, but would they talk secretly behind her back when she left them, wondering if she were in the beginning stages of another panic attack? Would they believe that she saw a creature? She didn't think so. Something embarrassed her about the whole situation because of a nagging feeling and the fact that she couldn't answer her own questions, so she remained quiet. Instead of discussing it, she decided to wait and see if it happened again.
Now that she had made that decision, she tried putting her concentration back to where it belonged, in the classroom with her students. But try as she might, she found herself stealing glances out her classroom window, wondering if she'd see the creature again.
Ruth was so excited when the last bell rang so she could get home. She was usually happy to stay a couple of hours after her students left to organize her classroom and prepare for the next day, but not today. She was sure she looked out of sorts hustling through the halls, grabbing her mail from the copy room, and keeping her head down. That’s not usually the way Ruth functioned.
Since Roger passed away, Ruth tended to spend a lot of time at school, not in any hurry to leave. She enjoyed the closeness she shared with her co-workers and considered them her second family. They often included her in their own family celebrations, knowing that she was now alone.
The school's hallways were the perfect gathering spot for teachers after the students left, and Ruth enjoyed the spontaneity they provided. She couldn’t seem to get through the halls without hearing, “Well, hello, Miss Ruth. Don’t you look lovely today.” Or maybe it would be, “I love that shade of lavender you’re wearing. Did you read the article recently that states that wearing lavender really compliments the eyes of those going gray?” An explosion of laughter would erupt as her good friend and co-worker, Mel, held up her matching lilac arm. Mel was the truest friend Ruth had. Similar to her in age, they had experienced some of the same commonalities of growing older. Most importantly, she was with Ruth in her most difficult time last year when she lost Roger. Mel was her rock through and through and was the strength she needed for so many months. It wasn’t unusual for Ruth to call Mel right around dinnertime when the sun was going down. That was when she felt most alone. It didn’t matter that they had just said their goodbyes an hour earlier. She was the voice on the other end of the line that Ruth needed to hear and she always picked up the phone for her call. Friends didn’t get any better than Mel.
So when Ruth dashed through the halls at the close of school, she was sure it didn't go unnoticed, but she was on a mission. She wanted to get home and prove to herself that she had either imagined or dreamed the creature in her garden.
After shutting down her computer and gathering her purse, she marched with deliberate steps out of her classroom while allowing the door to slam shut. She squinted at the bright afternoon sunshine, surprised that she actually made it out the door.