I found this article in a magazine in July of 2007. It was two months after
my grandpa had actally had to go to the hospital for coughing up blood/congestion. He was only supposed to be there
for 3 or 4 days and, ended up being there about two weeks. He was diagnosed with pneumonia and an abscess
in his lung, that they adamantly told us was cancer, but after several CT scans and tests later, it turned out to be a hole
caused by a nasty infection called MRSA. After being given the proper antibiotics, he was sent home on home health care.
After it was all over, and I had found this article, I read it with great relief that my grandpa had once again escaped sure
death. He had beaten it so many times before that, every once in a while, it was almost routine that we get a good scare.
I almost threw the magazine in the trash as I half- heartedly skimmed through it. The more I read the more it spoke
to me. I had almost just witnessed exactly what it was talking about and it hit me that it was a good article, and as
I read about it, I began to think. Someday...it might help me get through the inevitable. I decided to keep the
magazine.
I've included some of my thoughts at the end of the parts of the article that are
highlighted.
***********************************
“Grief and loss are universal. We all experience loss in our lives - the death of a parent
or a grandparent, a spouse, a sibling or a pet; the end of a marriage or a job; or loss on a massive scale as in the
senseless killings at Virginia Tech and the tragedy of 9/11. We’re born knowing how to cry. Most babies’
first sound is a wail, laughter comes only after several weeks, during which parents learn all too well the many tones of
an infant’s woe.
When a loved one dies, we return to this primordial knowledge of grief. Often, though,
we come as strangers to a strange land - bewildered by our loss, wondering how we’ll ever get back to familiar terrain.
Grief and mourning are a journey, say countless poets, prophets and proverbs. If that’s so, how do we make our
way down the path? Can we bear to begin the trip at all?
On this, the ancient sages and modern-day researchers agree: there is no way out of bereavement
but through it. Though the way is long, winding and often brutal, if we turn from it, we also sidestep a crucial part
of life. Yet all too often, we do shrink from the journey.
“We live in a grief-avoidant society, where grief is supposed to be ‘overcome,’
let go of’ or resolved,’ “says psychologist Alan Wolfelt, Ph.D., founder of the Center for Loss and
Life Transition, a Fort Collins, Colorado-based organization that offers work-shops and training to bereaved individuals and
grief counselors. “We don’t understnd that grief is a lifelong process, one that’s not linear.
We learn so much through the grief experience, but our society has very short norms for mourning - three days off from work
or school, and you’re back. We ask things like ‘ Are you over it?” Our culture, with its ‘buck
up’ messages, doesn’t support people who are grieving.”
We’ve also lost sight of a crucial distinction, says Wolfelt, namely, the difference
between grieving and the mourning: “Grief is your natural emotional response to losing someone you love, mourning
is grief gone public, if you will.” Historically, people would put on official mourning clothes and have a chance
to tell others the story of their loss again and again, which is a powerful way of integrating the loss into both your head
and your heart. In our culture people lack opportunities to mourn authentically.” The result? Many
wind up “carrying” their grief, a phenomenon Wolfelt writes about in his new book, Living in the Shadow of the
Ghosts of Your Grief. “They end up with long-term symptoms of anxiety, depression, and loss of intimacy;
the old, unhealed wound of grief linger, influencing all aspects of life, living and, particularly, loving.”
Baby boomers and Gen-Xers wrestle especially with bereavement because our contemporary, high-tech
Western society puts death at a remove: our parents and grandparents live longer and then die in hospitals, not at home.
“We are the world’s first death - free generation,” Wolfelt says. “A lot of people in
their forties have never had a close relative die. A hundred years ago you’d have been to fifty funerals by the
time you were that age.” For many this has led to a gap in real - life experiences of grief and to a host
of stubborn misconceptions about bereavement.
One of these is the concept of closure, a notion that many grief specialists now deplore.
“You close a door; you don’t close your mourning,: says Virginia A. Simpson, Ph.D., founder
of the Mourning Star Center, in Palm Desert, California. Mourning, she says, involves reshaping your relationship with
the departed, not severing the connection. “You get to integrate that person into your life in a new way.”
she explains. “It’s not a physical relationship anymore, but you get to keep him. When I say that
to boys or girls who’ve lost a sibling, they’re so happy. It’s an ongoing relationship, and that’s
healthy grieving as we know it.”
Another myth, erring in the opposite direction, holds that mourning should take place nonstop,
with no downtime or respite. Simpson, who lost her father to a heart attack when she was twelve, says, “I started
out thinking that I should be miserable for as long as possible to show him how much I cared.” Only as an adult
did she realize how sad she still felt over his death and fully mourn him. “Mourning does not mean ‘Let
me be totally miserable every single day,’” she says. “Often the feelings come in waves, the
first couple of weeks almost continuously, but over the course of time you’ll begin to get a bit more space. And
even as you’re grieving, you can still go out and have a good time and do the things that feed you internally, like
reading, hiking or being with friends.
Wolfelt, Simpson and their peers emphasize another point; the need for mourners and
caregivers alike to tap into their humility in the face of loss. As universal as grief and loss are, there is no “right”
way to mourn; we all do so in our own way. The most helpful thing others can do is to lend us their companionship
- a key concept in Wolfelt’s philosophy. “We don’t need ‘treaters,’” he says.
“We don’t need experts to tell us how to mourn; we need companions to be with us during the process.
And we need sanctuaries where we can go to get attention in the midst of our mourning.”
For this reason, T&-C offers not so much a guide to grief’s journey as a collection
of stories form fellow travelers on the road. We hope that our readers will find in these pages a lasting and consoling
sense of companionship and sanctuary in the depths of their loss.
This article written by Diane Guernsey;
Town & Country Magazine July 2007
If you would like to read the stories from the article posted above, please contact the Town
& Country Magazine at townandcountrymag.com or call 1-800-925-0485 for their archives from this date.
My Notes: My thoughts and feelings are in orange in
between the authors article...
*“Grief and loss are universal. We all experience loss in our lives ….
Need I say more.
* Often, though, we come as strangers to a strange land - bewildered
by our loss, wondering how we’ll ever get back to familiar terrain. This is what happened to me.
I have had “great-grandparents “ die that I was close to, but never this close. Can we bear to begin the
trip at all? I was trying to “ prepare” myself for the worst before they ever told us that his heart had
stopped beating, and when they told us I thought; “Well, here it is, Tamra. Start dealing with it now, because
I knew unless I killed myself or went crazy, that I’d have to go through it. It still doesn’t prepare you
‘how” to though.
*there is no way out of bereavement but through it. Though the way is long, winding
and often brutal, if we turn from it, we also sidestep a crucial part of life. Yet all too often, we do shrink from
the journey. I don’t really know if saying this is right or not, but when he was alive, I
wanted to experience EVERYTHING I possibly could with my grandparents together and be able to remember it. That “perfect
grandparent/grandchild” relationship much like the father and son relationship of Opie and Andy on the Andy Griffith
Show. I watched, I learned, I took pictures and video. I made and cherished experiences to remember for years
to come. So, I guess what I’m trying to get at is that his death (the last experience of his life I have to experience
and remember myself) was no less important than any of the other good experiences. I’d never want to experience
it all over again, but I will never forget it.
*“We live in a grief-avoidant society, where grief is supposed to be ‘overcome,’
let go of’ or resolved Nobody wants to experience pain and suffering, no doubt, but if you
never do in any form or fashion, then you won’t be able to deal with it as well when it is really bad. You won’t
be able to help others through their suffering either if you run from it yourself. Sometimes, experiencing some grief
can be helpful in the long run.
* “We don’t understnd that grief is a lifelong process You never completely
get over it. It follows you, plus there is rarely just “one” bout of grief.
We learn so much through the grief experience, but our society has very short norms for mourning
- three days off from work or school, and you’re back. At my job, that I immediately
resigned from as an emergency room technician, this was the “written policy”, but my supervisor was so nice to
me encouraging me to take all the time I needed to heal or make up my mind of whether I wanted to try and work and even told
me as long as he was there, I always had a job. So, I was blessed to have that even though I have not returned to that
kind of work, but some people are required to return very quickly and it’s just not enough time to deal with your grief
properly.
We ask things like ‘ Are you over it?” Our culture, with its ‘buck up’
messages, doesn’t support people who are grieving.” Society, as a whole, is not always supportive or caring.
A statement like this “Are you over it?” can do so much damage to someone.
*“Grief is your natural emotional response to losing someone you love, mourning is
grief gone public, if you will.” Historically, people would put on official mourning clothes and have a chance
to tell others the story of their loss again and again, which is a powerful way of integrating the loss into both your head
and your heart. In our culture people lack opportunities to mourn authentically.” If
you know of someone who has experienced some form of grief, go to them as soon as the time is appropriate and tell them that
you care or that if they need anything to give you a call, even if it’s just to talk. It’s amazing how nice
that is to hear and how it feels to know that someone cares. Don’t make a person have to “dress in black”
to get attention or support!
*“You close a door; you don’t close your mourning. Just
because you start to get back into the swing of things or go back to work, doesn’t mean that you’re not still
mourning or that you don’t still miss that person/thing. It doesn’t mean you stop thinking about them or
that you’re not sad anymore. People should still be respective of your feelings, it still hurts even if you act
like you’re fine.
Mourning, she says, involves reshaping your relationship with the departed,
not severing the connection. “You get to integrate that person into your life in a new way.”
she explains. “It’s not a physical relationship anymore, but you get to keep him
It seemed like when my grandpa died that I just had to do something to keep him a part of my life every day. He had
been in my life every day of it for the 35 years I had been on this earth and to not have him there in some way felt horrible,
so I created this website and I talk about him every chance I get. It just became my way of trying to live as normal
of a life as possible.
that’s healthy grieving
*Another myth, erring in the opposite direction, holds that mourning should take place nonstop,
with no downtime or respite Although you may truly feel this way… you don’t have to feel sad
or act like you feel sad all the time. It’s not a requirement
*there is no “right” way to mourn; we all do so in our own way. The
most helpful thing others can do is to lend us their companionship - a key concept in Wolfelt’s philosophy. One
of the worst things you can do is to tell the person who is mourning is that they shouldn’t mourn that way. (unless
they are doing something physically harmful to themselves or others such as trying to commit suicide or injuring themselves,
which if they are they need help) Everyone deals with things differently and what bothers you may
not bother someone else or what is soothing to you may not be soothing to another person. They may or may not
ever live up to your expectations in this situation, but give people some space.
“We don’t need ‘treaters,’” he says. “We
don’t need experts to tell us how to mourn; we need companions to be with us during the process. And we
need sanctuaries where we can go to get attention in the midst of our mourning.” You really
need shoulders to lean on and cry on. It was really weird to me when my grandpa died at the way that people reacted.
The people I always pictured coming to my aid and showing support were the ones who seemed to run from it. There were
people and friends who I had not seen or spoken to in years who came out of the wood-work to show that they cared and people
who I didn’t even know existed came to show support. Some of who I thought were my closest friends have been “MIA”.
It is awesome at the out-pouring of love that I and my family received at my grandpa’s funeral and weeks afterward.
I will never forget their kind words and actions. You need a place to go that feels safe. It was sad and scary
to me when it happened and even now. I always looked at my grandparents place as a “safe” or “happy”
place, and suddenly it became a place I didn’t want to be and still dread going to. Even to see my grandma.
I don’t know if that feeling will ever change. I wanted a place to go and relax or feel good, and now there’s
not one that doesn’t made me sad.
