Saturday, March 13, 2010

Grief

I had a small migraine and the meds and caffeine have me all hopped up and nowhere to go until crash time. So I went through some stuff to see if anything I had would be helpful. I thought this would be a good place to start. I probably have posted this before, but it bears repeating.

Before we lost Emily, I hadn't given much thought to coping with death. We found out she was gone on St. Patrick's Day, but she wasn't delivered until the 19th. I became a changed person that very day, as did Mike, Indy and Taryn. Gib was too young, but I think he was still affected, just differently. He let me rock him alot more and he became my "best buddy" for years. At the time, it was the most horrible, heart wrenching change...completely indescribable. I lost everything that made me ME. It took years to feel like myself again and I hated knowing that process would be slow. I remember sitting on my porch one day sobbing and my neighbor came over and I tried to explain how frustrated I was that I would feel like this for so long. You don't "get over" losing a baby when another baby is born, or in a year, or two. It unfortunately stays with you for life, but you learn an oyster technique of creating a pearl out of something jagged that causes you alot of pain at first. It takes time and alot of layering, but if you try to understand grief and properly go through all of its stages you eventually get there. I remember when I did there was a lot of joy and it reminded me of when my dad used to make me stay on my bike going up the big hills. We'd pass grown men who were walking up, but my dad wouldn't let me get off the bike. Anticipating the climb, he traded me bikes at the bottom of the hill, giving me the better racing bike so I could make it. And the feeling at the top of the hill and coasting down the other side?! THAT is what it felt like when I realized that the grief was no longer a raw, jagged sharp thing in my heart and soul.

In the years since we lost Emily, I have known several people who have experienced heartbreaking loss, and have personally gone thru the stages of grief again at the loss of my father & my grandmother. One of the things I noticed the first time around with Emily is that culturally we as a people no longer experience death commonly enough to be comfortable comforting others who are bereaved. Mourning with those who mourn is a skill - seriously.

People were always saying they didn't know what to do or what to say, so they didn't say anything at all. They would either run away or stare; neither reaction helps. So, I pulled together something that was posted on an email support group I was a part of and sent it out way back in '98 and in light of recent loss, I thought I would repost it again.

THE NATURE OF GRIEF

Grief is often thought of to be a period of time in which someone is sad over the death of one with whom they had a close relationship. It is not that simple.

* Grief is not a behavior. Mourning is a behavior that occurs within grief. Generally people believe that when the socially recognized period of mourning has ended so does grief. Not true; grief continues, with episodes of mourning.
* Grief is not a condition that can be treated. Grief can precipitate deep depression and physical ailments, which are often treatable, but grief itself cannot be treated. One cannot engage in a series of exercises to "get over it".
* Grief represents a life change. When one has experienced the death of someone close to them the environment of their life changes. Just as adulthood, or marriage or a new career represents changes, grief represents change. Grief is not a desired change however. When it occurs, a person is bereaved for life.
* Bereavement is a status represented by periods of grief and mourning. (I will add that for me, in time, those periods evolved and the harshness gradually became tolerable. This time of year is always a time of bereavement for me, and every year I think this is the year it won't bother me at all, and I'm always wrong...it gets to you. Maybe not alot, but you are more sensitive, stressed, impatient, a little more brittle if that makes sense.)

Recognizing that 1) there is no time limit to grief and 2) that grief changes who a person is, makes dealing with grieving people more understandable.

Here's my advice - For Friends & Family:

It's hard to enter into mourning or grieving situations. You wonder about appropriate behaviors. To say something or not to say something...that is the question, right?! Here are some ways that might be welcomed by a bereaved person in need of your support. Ask first, it truly doesn't hurt to ask - would you like to, is it all right if, think about this and get back to me... are good ways to initiate an offer to help.

*If you are a close friend or relative go to the griever as soon as possible and offer help with day to day tasks, helping with funeral preparations if needed, screening phone calls at their house, receiving food items, keeping visitors at bay or arranging a visiting schedule, speaking with clergy concerning the wishes of the family, whatever is expressed as helpful by the grieving family.

*If you do not believe you have that relationship, visit in a week or two, or even later when visits are few and far between but the numbness and shock is wearing off and that is the time that the most healing visits are actually taking place. If you are unable to say anything, that's OK - because this is one of the appropriate times to just give a hug and say nothing for a few seconds/minutes. Let the walls come down and don't try to have a "Fix" for something that really doesn't have one for those in mourning. Just being there for however long it takes until they break away is all that you really needed to do. If you feel the need to say something - here are a few SAFE suggestions:

  • I (we) are sorry for your loss
  • We love you
  • I (we) think about you often

There are certain statements that should not be said. If it minimizes, rationalizes, and in some cases, philosophizes the death, it is more hurtful than helpful. - You'd think saying it is enough, but I can't tell you how many years later, what I hear from people is that the hurtful comments are still being processed as part of the most painful part of the loss. So here are some of the DO NOT examples:

  • Nobody wants their grief minimized i.e., "aren't you fortunate that you will see that child in heaven. people without the gospel have it so much worse". Or that the comforter admires how strong you are because they just couldn't have handled it and God must have known that you were a special person who could endure such a trial. The fact is that you don't get a choice to lay down and be weak, especially if you have other children. The Philosophizer can do the most damage. Somebody suggested that God had an important lesson for me to learn in the loss of my child. MANY years later, in a gracious mood, I suppose I can almost see what she was trying to say, but at the time it was one of the most incredibly painful and thoughtless comments - like I was such a bad person God had to take our baby to teach me a lesson. Intellectually, I knew it doesn't work like that but emotionally that comment did damage. If you are afraid you'll say the wrong thing - stay with the SAFE examples!

*Attend the funeral or memorial - your presence will be greatly appreciated.

*In the weeks and months ahead, allow and sometimes encourage the griever to talk. Use the name of the deceased to encourage the conversation.

*Accept the tears as no more shocking than the laughter. Avoid being judgemental about the person. (for example, if going to church is painful for awhile don't rush to judge that the griever is angry at God and try to solve their problem or push them into going back sooner than they are comfortable thinking they will feel better if they go. I know for me, my feelings for my Heavenly Father never changed, but certain aspects of church like people running in the opposite direction to avoid me or certain hymns unexpectedly being soul wrenching and not being prepared for the pain and tears made it difficult).

*Don't be afraid. Very few people reached out to me in the early months after our loss. Two ladies bravely asked me something that I'm sure would have seemed unthinkable to most, but I needed it. Maybe others would have declined, and that's OK too. They asked in a thoughtful, gentle way - and how they did made a difference - if it would help me to hold their baby. One was my visiting teaching companion. Her baby felt just like my babies did - a little 6 pounder. I held that baby for 2 hours and sobbed the entire time in the back of church. The best thing was that she just sat there next to me and didn't say one word for 2 hrs, occasionally reaching over and rubbing my back or shooing her husband away. Funny how I remember that :) Some time later, another lady came to my house with her baby. But her baby didn't evoke the same reaction and it was merely like holding a baby and I was done in a few minutes. I accepted both reactions and was grateful for the experiences because they both helped me. I learned I was working my way through the grief and making progress. I never wanted nor needed to hold those babies again. One layer down, many more to go.

*Understand that grief may lessen a person's efficiency in both home tasks and at work. Avoid the urge to keep the griever "busy" but do invite the griever to participate in activities.

*Mention the name of the person who died. (In our case, it was very soothing to hear Emily's name, even if it made me cry, I loved the person who was brave enough to say it, especially when so much time would go by and I never got to hear it. Think about how much a new parent hears a newborns' name compared to the shock of losing a baby and the rarity of not hearing anything about that baby who you can't stop thinking of).

*Let children talk about the one who has passed away. Depending on their age, it may be in rather painful ways for the griever. Be prepared for this, and if necessary answer and redirect them until the griever is better able to deal with questions and comments. But, be upfront and truthful so as not to cause anxiety.

*Remember birthdays or anniversaries - especially the anniversary of the death. A card or a visit at a time when most people have completely forgotten means so much to the family. (We always called it Emily's Day at our house). Expect some milestone years to be harder than others - and for the griever to enter a phase of grief and mourning leading up to anniversaries. Anticipate this and help with day to day chores or with other children to give them a break and a chance to meditate on their feelings.

*Help find a way to memorialize the loved one. Salt Lake Cemetery is a joyful place on Memorial Day which I found to be very surprising and comforting. Everyone there has lost someone and is remembering their place in their life. Our children seemed to enjoy going to Emily's and Grandma Pete's grave and taking them flowers and balloons. It made her a part of their life. When we moved, we had an Emily Tree at our other house. Every year I planted daffodils at the base of the tree and pansies and then summer annuals. At this house we have a memorial garden for Emily and my Dad.

Feel free to add your comments and suggestions. This is not the be all-end all authority. Just something like I said, I gathered a long time ago and just dusted off today. Maybe it helps and I hope it doesn't hurt anyone. Sometimes that's all you can hope for.

3 comments:

Holly said...

Love this post...love you and loved talking to you yesterday. We need to do that more often. XOXO

Mickie and Matt said...

Intersting, I just realized that Matts Mom passed away exactly 10 years ago today. I reminded him, he didnt even think of it. Women and Men DEFINITELY mourn differently. We both read the post and Matt's comment was how helpful it was and how he wished he would have read it 10 years ago. He didnt even know how to act then or what to do.

Trish Griffee said...

Well said. We all grieve our losses differently and what works for one may not work for another. I'm happy your little Emily had such an impact on your life and I'm glad you were smart enough to see that grieving a loss is important. It is healing. It makes you stronger. We love you.