Dealing With Bereavement
January 23rd, 2015
Today marks the 18th anniversary of my Mom's passing and, naturally, memories come flooding back of the times we had with her. Our family still tells stories about her - usually they make us chuckle, or cause us to smile. It wasn't always like that.
I can remember that it felt like I was now an orphan - having said goodbye to my dad 17 years earlier. It really hit me on my birthday, when I realized that the woman who gave birth to me wasn't around any more. Getting through that first year had many tough moments - mostly on those special days - birthdays, Mothers' Day, Christmas. It was hard to look at the selections in the greeting card sections knowing that there were some cards that I would never buy again.
Certain songs would trigger memories and, one of my favourite songs, 'I Will Take Care of You' by Amy Sky, would make me feel so sad that I couldn't listen to it and would change stations if it came on the radio.
This last week, we said goodbye to a dear friend of ours. Derek Walton ('Braveheart'), had lived with ALS, surviving for over 12 years with this debilitating disease. His motto was, "In order to have a life of purpose, you need to have a purpose in life". He lived this philosophy - and then some. He has left a huge hole in our lives.
Whenever we are faced with the death of a loved one, we often reflect upon our own mortality. We find ourselves asking questions: What is it all about? Why are we here? What's the point? The circumstances surrounding the passing also have an influence upon our reactions.
Courtesy of http://www.quazoo.com/q/K%C3%BCbler-Ross%20model |
When I was studying theology in college, back in the U.K., we covered a whole unit on Divorce and Bereavement, comparing and contrasting these experiences of life. There were remarkable similarities, and the stages of grief were almost the same. It was made clear that people cannot be rushed through those stages (Denial and Isolation, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance), and they don't necessarily occur in that order, nor only once. Life is more complex than that - as anyone who has grieved a loved one will testify.
One of the things that brought me comfort at the time of my Mother's death was the fact that just two days before she died, she celebrated her 82nd birthday. She was in hospital, and when my sister and brother-in-law visited her, she was sitting up in bed, and had perfect vision and hearing - in spite of spending most of her later life having to depend upon hearing aids and glasses. She was very chipper and wanted to know where her birthday cake was!! The following night, she slipped into a coma, and died early the following morning, just 2 days after her birthday. I can't help feeling that she was given a glimpse of things to come, just before she made her transition - no more pain, no more disabilities, no more anxiety - just peace and joy.
Derek 'Braveheart' Walton, surrounded by his children |
People deal with bereavement in different ways. Each person's pain is unique, and the journey has to be made alone. No words can be found to take away the pain, to lessen it, or move through it. When people say things to us, they may sound like clichés. When that happens, I tell myself that what people are trying to say is that they care - and take comfort from that. Probably the toughest time is when all the immediate support of the physical presence of others is withdrawn - the funeral is over, family and friends have returned to their routine - and we are left alone, knowing that our lives have been changed forever.
It's not that we forget our loved ones (who even wants to forget - rather, we want to hold on to those cherished memories). I think what happens is that, after time passes, we tuck our memories somewhere deep within. They are not recalled every single day and we can begin to move on. The memories are always there for us to retrieve whenever we feel the need. We can enjoy them and then gently return them to that recess in our heart and in our mind, ready for the next time.
Bereavement is a part of life. It is uncomfortable, painful, and heart-rending; but it also has the ability to help us discern what is important to us, and may help us to clarify our priorities in life.