Annie Douglas: 5 Things You Need To Heal After a Dramatic Loss Or Life Change

An Interview With Heidi Sander

Practice self-care: I did not do this, and it was a mistake. For the past thirty years I was either caring for my students, my children and eventually my mother. I had forgotten how to care for myself. I’ve always been a caregiver, worrying about everyone other than me. I didn’t know how to prioritize my own needs.

The world seems to be reeling from one crisis to another. We’ve experienced a global pandemic, economic uncertainty, political and social turmoil. Then there are personal traumas that people are dealing with, such as the loss of a loved one, health issues, unemployment, divorce or the loss of a job.

Coping with change can be traumatic as it often affects every part of our lives.

How do you deal with loss or change in your life? What coping strategies can you use? Do you ignore them and just push through, or do you use specific techniques?

In this series called “5 Things You Need To Heal After a Dramatic Loss Or Life Change” we are interviewing successful people who were able to heal after a difficult life change such as the loss of a loved one, loss of a job, or other personal hardships. We are also talking to Wellness experts, Therapists, and Mental Health Professionals who can share lessons from their experience and research.

As a part of this interview series, I had the pleasure of interviewing Annie Douglas.

Annie uses her writing to express herself. Her honesty is both gritty and mundane. She draws on her life experience as an adoptee, a daughter, a wife, a mother, a friend, and a caregiver to share personal stories.

Thank you so much for doing this with us! Before we start, our readers would love to “get to know you” a bit better. Can you tell us a bit about your childhood backstory?

I was born in Boston, Massachusetts in October of 1964. In December of the same year, I was adopted from The Home for Little Wanderers. I’m the youngest of three and raised on the East Side of Providence, Rhode, Island. As a child I thrived on social interaction and was quickly labeled a “chatterbox,” by my mother and teachers. I attended public school until my parents concluded, boys had become “far too large a distraction.” Defiant, but without a say, I transferred to an all-girls private school, uniform, and all. In the end it was one of the best decisions my parents made. I thrived in a single sex environment.

Can you please give us your favorite “Life Lesson Quote”? Can you share how that was relevant to you in your life?

“Perseverance is the hard work you do after you get tired of doing the hard work you did.” In 2015 I spent time in rehab for substance abuse. There I would experience some of my darkest and shameful moments. In the morning I was required to check in at the nurse’s station. To the right, stood a white board, each day a new quote. These are the words which forever remain with me.

You have been blessed with much success. In your opinion, what are the top three qualities that you possess that have helped you accomplish so much? If you can, please share a story or example for each.

Success to me enfolds three parts. The first, the years I spent teaching at a small elementary school in the West Village in New York City. Each day a rush of excitement when I’d greet my class face to face. I was proud of the learning environment I created. A space where young children’s curiosity would flourish, and their voices and ideas heard. The second, is the choice I made to leave teaching, to be home full time with my four children. It was for me the BEST decision I’ve ever made. To be present in my home, as my mother was for me, available to my children, guiding my sons and daughters through their triumphs and downfalls. I didn’t want to miss a minute. Lastly, my all-consuming grief over my mother’s death, motivated me to start a new chapter. In recovery I curated a “tool kit,” small acts to divert my attention from alcohol. I modified my knowledge and rebuilt that kit to fit the needs of my mom. It included journaling, I was never without a notebook and pen. Loss inadvertently channeled my grief into writing, it opened the door to becoming a writer.

Let’s now shift to the main part of our discussion about ‘Healing after Loss’. Do you feel comfortable sharing with our readers about your dramatic loss or life change?

Yes. I lost my mom to Dementia. When Covid hit my mother’s decline was accelerating. I left my home in Westchester and relocated to Rhode Island to spend as much time with my mother as possible. I had no idea how much time I would have. Everything felt out of my control, but I could control being present in her life for as long as she needed me.

What was the scariest part of that event? What did you think was the worst thing that could happen to you?

The scariest part for me was not knowing who my mother would be on any given day. There is no blueprint for someone with dementia. Every morning I mentally prepared myself for the unknown, unsure which part of her world would be intact, if any. As I’d make the eight-minute drive from my house to my parents, I’d put all the windows in the car down. Despite the weather it helped me clear my head. I knew yesterday vs. today, may appear starkly different.

I have a long list of the worst things that could happen to me but the first was always, will today be the day my mother dies?

Will today be the day I’m motherless.

How did you react in the short term?

That’s a tough question. I was not in shock. I understood my mother had passed, but I remember very little in the aftermath, and the weeks leading up to my mother’s “Celebration of Life.” I posed the question to my husband, hoping he’d help me recall my behavior. He remembers my being stoic and robotic. I do remember hiding behind large black sunglasses, shielding my swollen, red face.

After the dust settled, what coping mechanisms did you use?

I was incredibly close to my mother. It was an honor to be her daughter. I would say the dust hasn’t quite settled yet. But on days when my anxiety creeps in and everything feels wrong, I force myself to get out of bed. I set small, attainable goals that require little thought. I weed, walk the dogs on the beach, cut flowers from my mother’s garden and place small bouquets around her house and mine.

Can you share with us how you were eventually able to heal and “let go” of the negative aspects of that event?

I would say I’m still in the midst of the healing process. I find my grief to be complicated. Watching my mother die over an extended period was heart wrenching. Especially the little things, forgetting the names of birds or the fact she was an avid gardener. The negative aspects of my mother’s death are still raw, and I can be quick to cry. The person she became was not my mother, by no fault of her own. When I picture her, I still see those last few months of her life. My therapist has encouraged me to look at photographs of my mother from the past, to help me remember all the good she encompassed, her veracity for life and the love she gave freely.

In my own grief journey, I found writing to be cathartic. Did you engage in any writing during that time, such as journaling, poetry, or writing letters? If yes, we’d love to hear about any stories or examples.

In my own grief I have been writing short memoirs and journaling. During covid I wrote a memoir, over three hundred pages, just waiting to be finished. It became too painful, and it’s tucked away for another time, or possibly forever. In its place I began writing letters to my mom shortly after she died. I intended to write just one, but I didn’t stop at one. I have a file on my desktop called, “Grief Hurts, Letters to my mom.” This is the very first one I wrote to her:

Dear Mom,

My letter is complete. My eyes are a microscope, scrutinizing my own words until they meet with my approval. Only then will I mail you this letter. You have no address. Still, I stare at a box of white envelopes that rests on my kitchen countertop. A voice in my head is giving me directions. I feel uneasy but follow them just the same. I fold my letter into three perfect parts, pressing down on the seams, flattening the white piece of paper I tore from one of my father’s legal pads. Inside the envelope are glowing reviews, testaments to your character as a mother, wife, sister, and friend. I reach for my favorite blue, Bic gel pen and write a return address. I place an Alzheimer’s stamp in the right, upper hand corner and hope it will up my chances that my words will surely find you. Or will the stamp and my return address be the reason that my letter, to you, lands directly back to my mailbox? A strip of yellow tape reading, “insufficient address. Return to sender.”

I can’t read you this letter over the phone because your home phone number for fifty-seven years no longer rings wherever you currently reside. But still, I will tell you a story in hopes that somehow you are peering over my shoulder, watching intently as I weave enchanting memories together. All in my very best penmanship. But mine will never match your Catholic School cursive. Your presence alludes me, Invisible to the eye. But that doesn’t mean you can’t see me. I so hope you can see me. So, I write this to you with the belief that wherever you may wander your maternal instinct will seek me out. If I were to believe anything less my hope would cease to exist.

I’m going to share these warm and wonderful memories, bestowed upon me by family, friends and those who knew you through the short memoirs I’ve written and shared. They came to me in the form of sympathy cards, sympathy emails, sympathy texts and the mightiest of all, a sympathy hug. No words necessary. I read and re-read the short texts and long emails with the hope that their tenderness and sincerity allow you to rest in peace. You deserve that after all you’ve endured.

I love you; I miss you, A

Aside from letting go, what did you do to create an internal, emotional shift to feel better?

I don’t think it’s possible, at least not for me, to let go. My mother was such an integral part of my life, of my family’s life, that there’s always something in close proximity that reminds me of her. Maybe it’s possible that by surrounding myself with her personal items, in some way, I’m letting go.

My emotional shift came when I stopped to reflect on how my mother would feel, looking down, seeing me cloaked in sadness. How she would want me to take care of myself, my father, and my family. Her old self would remind me of the fulfilling life she had led and how fortunate she had been to be my mother. I think of her kissing me on each cheek saying, “Like the French do,” followed by, “Best friends forever.”

Is there a particular person who you are grateful towards who helped get you to cope and heal? Can you share a story about that?

My husband, Tim. He lost his mother unexpectantly in 2005 and from that point on, my mom became his mother too. He listened and was patient. His kindness was the purest form of love. He was expressive in his small gestures. In the morning he’d bring me hot water with lemon, sit beside me and rest his palm in the center of my back as my body trembled under my grief. His quiet companionship helped stabilize me during moments of distress and deep despair.

Were you able to eventually reframe the consequences and turn it into a positive situation? Can you explain how you did that?

No, not yet. But I can share a silver lining. As I said previously, I rushed to Rhode Island when covid hit, but I wasn’t alone. My husband and four children spent the better part of a year and a half being able to see their grandmother. We all supported one another during such a tumultuous time. I’ll never forget the day I was lying next to my mother in her bed. She was asleep when my father entered the room to check on her. He squeezed my hand and said, “Well, I think covid is our silver lining.” The pandemic kept us together in our own family bubble.

What did you learn about yourself from this very difficult experience? Can you please explain with a story or example?

I did exactly what I shouldn’t have done. Something familiar, something I did when I was drinking. I became a hermit. I purposely self-isolated and didn’t ask for help. The more time that passed, made it more difficult to become social again. Of course, this was all happening in the throes of covid, so it was easy to be alone. If I had an opportunity to do it differently, I would have been more forward in asking for the support I was lacking.

Fantastic. Here is the main question of our interview. Based on your experiences and knowledge, what advice would you give others to help them get through a difficult life challenge? What are your “5 Things You Need To Heal After a Dramatic Loss Or Life Change? Please share a story or example for each.

1.Allow yourself to experience your emotions unconditionally, with no self judgement. Be vulnerable, it makes you courageous. In the sea of darkness, there will eventually be light. There is a quote I return to on a regular basis. In one simple sentence this quote sums up the essence of being a mom.

“A mother is she who can take the place of all others but whose place no one can take.”-Cardinal Mermillod

2.For anyone experiencing loss, it is critical to have a lifeline. By that I mean someone you’re comfortable calling day or night, knowing he or she will be ready to listen if that’s what you need. About two months had gone by since my mother had passed and I was desperate for answers, particularly, “where is she now?” I called a best friend from childhood. In that moment I felt so destitute, but I understood the power of our friendship. There are people who love you, who care about you and want to support you. Hearing her voice brought me comfort and solace.

3.If possible, create a strong support system. People other than family members who are suffering as well. This was a challenge for me. Covid put distance between myself, and friends and I lacked interpersonal connections. My weekly writing and exercise group were held over zoom. An in-person hug can make a world of difference.

4.I have a close friend from childhood who has one hundred percent risen to the occasion, exceeding all my expectations. Our history spans four decades, she’s part of our family, and loved my mother as well. She also had the misfortune of watching her own mother succumb to dementia. She understands the complicated emotions that come along with watching one’s mother die slowly over a lengthy period. It’s easy to be with her because she’s lived the loss. She validates the wide range of emotions that are ravaging me from the inside out.

5.Practice self-care-I did not do this, and it was a mistake. For the past thirty years I was either caring for my students, my children and eventually my mother. I had forgotten how to care for myself. I’ve always been a caregiver, worrying about everyone other than me. I didn’t know how to prioritize my own needs.

You are a person of great influence. If you could inspire a movement that would bring the most amount of good to the most amount of people, what would that be?

When my children were small my husband coined the phrase, “It’s nice to be nice.” Now they are young adults, and we still remind them, “It’s nice to be nice.” If only the world could take that same approach.

We are very blessed that some very prominent names in Business, VC funding, Sports, and Entertainment read this column. Is there a person in the world, or in the US with whom you would love to have a private breakfast or lunch with, and why? He or she might just see this if we tag them. :-)

Hands down, Oprah, every time. I wrote I short story, “When Life Gives Me Lemons, there’s always Oprah.” This is a small excerpt from that piece.

“When I’d return from school, I’d find my mother in her bedroom, ironing my father’s work shirts. A small black and white television with rabbit ears was perched precariously on her dresser, tuned into Oprah’s afternoon talk show. To me, Oprah was larger than life, tackling a range of controversial and challenging topics. I was mesmerized by Oprah’s authenticity and compassion. I would regularly fantasize about being a guest on her program. Perhaps I’d be working on an impossible geometry problem when the home phone would ring. On the other end, one of Oprah’s assistant’s, calling me, inviting me, to be part of a panel on adoption. How did she know I was an adoptee? I imagined the warmth of her body as she embraced me, folding me.”

That phone call never came but a year shy of covid I accompanied my husband on a business trip which I rarely do. My incentive, Oprah would be speaking, followed by a meet and greet and a photograph. Once the picture was taken my husband and I were about to be escorted out of the room and I couldn’t let go of my opportunity. There was a long line behind us, but I turned to Oprah and said, “I’ll regret it forever if I don’t ask for a hug.” She raised a finger, signaling to those around her to give her a minute. She wrapped me in her arms, held me so close, as I inhaled her scent. Thank you, Oprah!

How can our readers further follow your work online?

Readers can find me on my website,

Anniebdouglas.com and on social media-Instagram, GoodReads and LinkedIn.

Thank you so much for sharing these important insights. We wish you continued success and good health!