Love and Loss: How Focusing Helped Me Grieve My Father
On 10th June, 2024 my father died.
I’d like to share how Focusing helped me process the pain of losing him. It feels especially relevant now, after Peter Gill’s ‘Welcoming Grief’ workshop for the IFN in November.
I sat with him every day in the week leading up to his death. A farmer all his life, I’d been used to him being tall, strong and father-like. Now, after months of hospitalisation, he was like a little bird in the bed, alive, but tiny and helpless. Skin sagged from his stick-like limbs, his body was lost amongst the pillows and his mouth gasped loudly for breath. He couldn’t speak, and looked consumed by pain, although the nurses said he was comfortable.
He was eighty-one and had severe dementia for years. Dying would be a release for him, I knew that. But as I sat beside him, my own pain kicked up fiercely inside me. I’d never been on this earth without him, and any hour now he would be gone.
Never again would I feel his arms around me, welcoming me home, or hear him laugh at my banalities when I called him for a chat. He had been a sensitive, kind man, who liked to love and be loved. Now, I felt like I had not fully appreciated his regard for me, but had come to expect it like some kind of movie star. I was filled with remorse.
A part of me wanted to flee the enormity of the loss that was coming. David Whyte in his essay Solace asks - “...how will you bear the inevitable that is coming to you? And how will you endure it through the years?”
I did not know how I would endure it. In my pre-Focusing life, I had done what most people do when pain feels unbearable - I unconsciously cordoned it off inside, and tried to think positively. But I'd seen how those painful places only became sealed-off, frozen in a point in time, forever calling to be experienced.
This time, at least, I knew it was better to feel the pain - if I could.
We were so lucky to have a private room, in a quiet part of the hospital. My mother sat with him for nearly ten hours a day for over three months. He very rarely became irritable with us, even though he was in grueling pain due to a spinal fracture and had no understanding of what was happening. He was forever trying to climb out of bed and get back to the farmyard. It had been a full-time job trying to stop his escape.
But now he had got an infection and wasn't responding to the antibiotics. It was clear he hadn't long. A terrible swirling sensation began inside me, and it felt that - if I weren’t careful - at any moment I could become engulfed by it.
Something habitual in me began to try to avoid, deny, reassure… (I saw now how often I had sought refuge in what John Keane calls ‘process skipping’). But thanks to all the years of Focusing, I was able somehow to step into the centre and feel it, now, before it all got sealed away.
I wept a lot in the weeks leading up to Dad’s death. It was a relief to be able to cry so freely - I could not do that in my pre-Focusing years. I regretted all the moments I had rejected him - the times I had perceived him as ‘weak’, or inconsistent, or too keen to please. How I wished I could have appreciated him a little more, just as he was, instead of thinking he should be a little different. As I cried by his bedside, he no longer knew day from night. But he wiped the tears from my face with a blanket from his bed.
After it was all over, and Dad was finally free of his suffering, I did not experience the exhaustion that seems to be the norm after a funeral. Instead, I felt more alive. Alive to who he really was, and to my family and to myself as we are now. I think something happened as I sat with him, something special, that left me changed.
by Fiona O'Meara
Creative Corner: Ice Bells
“Do you see what I see?”
Stepping out in December means finding a branch near the river’s edge where water has dripped along the branch and has frozen in the form of small bells.
"Ice Bells" by Denise Durocher
On the banks of Le Lièvre River, Québec December 2024
Listen to the river ripples as they break along the branch, and
.. “Do you hear what I hear?”
the ice bells are ringing a soft melody for you at Solstice and Christmas time...
The more I think about this Christmas song …
It starts with: “Said the night wind to
the little lamb”…
And the questions follow:
“Do you see what I see?”
“Do you hear what I hear?”
“Do you know what I know?”
As I live alone, I realize that to better see, hear and know, I need to head outside. Especially in December when my reflex is to hibernate, I still must leave my cave of indwelling and go meet wind, snow, river, trees, people, birds, stars, moon, family, friends, music, etc.
My Focusing partners have helped me “see, hear, know” whenever I move into the ZOOM space and go to meet them. So often, I have no idea what will happen during our session, but when I step out of my “cave” and go towards the ZOOM meeting space, I know I will find some surprise waiting for me.
For me, to better see, hear and know, I need relationship: to nature, to individuals, to community and in particular, the IFN community.
Does this ring true for you too?
by Denise Durocher December 2025
Creative Corner: The Scroll
by Denise Durocher
The Scroll by Denise Durocher - Old bobbin, black fabric, white backing, embroidery floss.
I started this fabric scroll which is four inches wide and about 2 meters long. My only parameters are using gradients of embroidery floss colours and a wave design. It is a slow process since I’m making so many stitches, and it kind of feels like a useless project. But I read something the other day: "This is worth doing for no other reason than that it is nice to do. So do it." (Can’t find the author, sorry).
It's a bit like my Focusing Sessions since for both, I don't know exactly how they will end. What will be revealed to me? Focusing has a method, I also gave this piece some structure: colours, waves. But will I like it once I'm done? I don't know. But as I stitch, something is revealed to me in the simple fact that I’m showing up to do it. As sometimes we don’t know why we decide to participate in a Focusing Session on a particular day. We just show up and most often than not, are amazed by what is revealed to us during that time.
Maybe some of you who read this will notice that in your own life, you are also working on something that hasn't fully revealed itself yet. I think that the fact that you are showing up, investing the time, the effort and the love, is in itself a revelation worth considering.
Video of what the scroll looks like so far!
Tribute to Father Peter Campbell 1935 - 2025
Fr. Peter Campbell
On July 5, 2025, the Focusing community lost one of its brightest lights with the passing of Father Peter Campbell. For more than fifty years, Father Peter devoted his life to teaching and living Focusing from a deeply Biospiritual perspective. His vision and dedication were instrumental in spreading Focusing worldwide, particularly throughout the 1980s and 1990s, as he and Father Edwin McMahon led countless domestic and international BioSpiritual education programs. Their efforts profoundly shaped the understanding of Focusing, highlighting its transformative potential for individuals and communities alike.
Father Peter was not only an educator but also a prolific author. Along with Father Edwin McMahon he co-authored many articles and books—BioSpirituality: Focusing As a Way to Grow, Beyond The Myth of Dominance: An Alternative to a Violent Society, and Rediscovering the Lost Body Connection in Christian Spirituality—that continue to inspire, heal, and guide readers across the world. The Nada Lou collection of his BioSpiritual videos further showcases his depth of insight, authenticity, and willingness to share his own vulnerabilities for the benefit of others.
Even in later years, when travel became impossible, Father Peter embraced technology, using a website (biospiritual.org), Skype and Zoom to continue sharing his wisdom. His commitment also led to the co-founding of the BioSpiritual Institute, ensuring that the BioSpiritual legacy would endure and flourish for years to come.
Above all, Father Peter embodied what he taught. Those fortunate enough to meet him in person experienced his genuine compassion and kindness. His ministry was dedicated to making “mysticism for the millions” a reality, empowering countless individuals to connect with their Inner Divine Wisdom and experience what Gene Gendlin called the “grace” of the felt shift.
The Focusing community will continue to benefit from the inspirational light of his presence, now lived out in all those who caught the fire from him and continue to practice and share Focusing. His light will also guide and uplift us, reminding us of the profound impact that one life, lived with faith, purpose and love, can have on the world.
Thanks to Joe Colletti for sharing this with us
