Remembering
is easy, but missing is heartbreaking, wrote a friend who lost her mother.
One
thing that helps right away is the various faiths that sustain us as we gather
to celebrate the life of the deceased at the visitation and service.
It
is hard to go back to life and work when your attention span is measured in
seconds. Time freezes. Restlessness and anxiety are constant companions. Rainy
days are more dreary. Sunny days are an outrage. Laughing people are out of
place in your world. Loss is ghastly, engulfing and shakes your day. You may be
enveloped in grief, maybe feeling like a blob. Other words are gutted,
disrupted, foggy, tortured, “suffocated” and having an aching emptiness.
You
are always in grief's presence. Your “absence” still “walks through the door”
every single day. But you can strive to become an intentional survivor and not
a hapless victim. Seek help, reach out to others, set a goal, lament without
shame, live your loss. Take it slowly. Take one more step. Take another step,
said Tim Russert’s book about his father. Death is like mud; it’s dirty, messy
and incredibly tough to walk through, but surprisingly, it holds vital
ingredients to life, and when seeds are planted, it can help sprout new life.
The Lord giveth and taketh. Dead leaves fall; new leaves grow.
Elizabeth
Bernstein in the Wall Street Journal used the words shattered, unequipped and
worthlessness for her grief. She suggested sticking to a routine or go the
bearable moments route—an hour, half hour, five minutes, one minute. Give
yourself permission to heal with prompts on sticky notes. Think of your quality
time left—future--rather than the past. Read memoirs about grief, talk to
friends who lost a parent or cuddle with a dog. Be the person you were taught
to be: kind. You have to learn to comingle your pain with births and weddings
you will attend. Loss has to integrate with living.
It
seems the sorry window is never closed. Know that grief is unexpressed love.
Erasure would be the outcome. Grief is: embracing or exclusion.
Do
not suppress difficult emotions; they’ll only pop back up. Remaining silent is
not an option. You don’t have to be “heroic.” Sometimes all grief stages blend
together. You could get one stage one day and one the next. It is rough, but
what a difference a day can make as you also have secondary losses such as
income, family structure, lifestyle, past memories, support, future plans that
were to be shared, identity and security.
Yell
into your phone if you have to. Do a body scan while driving. Focus on your
hands and how they feel on the wheel and how the air feels on your face. Quit
doomscrolling. Instead, paint, scrapbook, knit, garden, cook, sing, decorate,
organize, make something. Take a blank space and start writing.
One
project is to draw a ring around a doodled person. Draw a larger ring around
one close to them and so on. The one in the small ring can whine, complain,
moan and say anything to the others. Speak only to larger rings. The goal is to
help the small ring.
Boosting
your optimism in a Wall Street Journal article says to create a positive mental
TV channel that replays memories of pleasant episodes in your life. Call up
your channel when you need a boost. Did something frustrate you? Write down
three things that can help you see it more positively. Miss your train? Perhaps
you got some exercise running to catch it.
Don’t
assume grieving people are OK if they only post happy pictures on social media.
They are not going to show you meltdowns, anxiety attacks or their upset
stomach. They are hoping people don’t bolt from their lives. They are like a
broken statue that can’t be glued together again. You don’t need to give them a
lot of words, nor do they to you unless they want to. They may have no one to
talk to when they are having a bad day so if they do, listen. Your presence is
important for your friends where words fall short.
In
“Dear Dana,” a friend lost her son and the author learned to avoid assuming
anything, listened attentively and was present. Her hashtag while praying for
her friend was #constant. I liked the line that said our lives are like a
symphony. Sometimes you need the violins while other times only a tuba will do.
The
Team Chase Foundation honors their son who died in a car accident. He never
left home without a basketball. It was unimaginable pain. The foundation
carries out good deeds. It allows him to be remembered. They’ve given out
scholarships, provided funds for athletic camps, gave away basketballs, paid
tolls for drivers, dropped a gift basket to a random new mom and passed out
coffee gift cards to people on the street. They have round plastic discs with a
QR code that can be scanned to record good deeds online. They have come from
around the world. In Singapore, a person gave up his bus seat. In Florida,
someone paid for groceries.
In
her autobiography, Gov. Kristi Noem felt her world was shattering when she
tragically lost her father. She was eight months pregnant, sitting in the same
hospital where she was supposed to have attended a childbirth class that very
same evening, preparing for a new life to enter the world. Instead, she was two
floors down in the emergency room grieving for a life she didn’t think could
ever be lost. It was very difficult for her, but now she is a governor. One of
her favorite books is “Wolfpack.” “You were never Little Red Riding Hood. You
were always the wolf,” it says. It talks about women having each other’s backs.
You don’t always have to stay on the path. Take the microphone. Get the respect
you’ve earned and give it to the pack, too.
Two
sweet children’s books may offer help. My mom always kept the “Velveteen
Rabbit” around. If a child loves a toy enough, it will become real. When I
reread it (it's 100 this year), I loved this part: When you are real, most of your hair has been
loved off and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very
shabby. “What we over-love, we often over-grieve,” said Bishop Fulton Sheen.
Grief is proportional to the love shared.
I also
read “Invisible String.” Here is the synopsis. As long as love is in your
heart, the invisible string will always be there. We are all connected by it.
It can help comfort separation anxiety, loneliness and loss and explore
unbreakable connections. It can be used in bereavement, in the military, at
camp, funeral homes, prisons, among the recently divorced and at going away
parties. It transcends time and space.
Those
we love are always connected by heartstrings into infinity, said Terry
Guillemets.
At
initial bad news, you feel your heart drop. Half of my heart is gone, said
Andrew Pollack, whose daughter was a school shooting victim. Your heart may
feel like it’s in a tug-of-war. On Facebook, I saw a post that said it is odd
that his heart failed him; he didn’t have any loving flaws. He carved his name
on hearts, and now it’s on a tombstone.
I
loved you your whole life, said another post. I will miss you the rest of mine.
It was about a dog. Likely your pet is saying thanks for everything/I had a
wonderful time.
“A
Year of Playing Catch” by Ethan Bryan was a book given to a man whose son died
in an automobile accident. He played catch with a different person for 365
days. It was a vehicle to open up about his son. Some came from as far as
Israel. The son was a complete joy,
effortless to raise. He watched out for others. He would recognize if a
classmate was having an off day and make sure they were all right. He had time
for everybody. Ethan’s first catch was with the survivor of the car wreck. They
threw the ball until they couldn’t see it anymore. Inclement weather would lead
to a gym. Now people come to him and they are able to shoulder some of each
other’s pain. Even though he was hurting, he could help. He said he was on a
journey with no clear end.
Even
though Mike Tyson said he could have gotten his gun and gone crazy after the
death of his daughter, he said he had to act dignified, not psycho because
others also lose kids.
No
one is immune from grief. In “Mr. Harrigan’s Phone,” it was said even assholes
have people who grieve for them. To some it may seem odd, but President Thomas
Jefferson wrapped the last piece of his wife’s Martha’s handwriting in her hair
and hid it in his writing desk.
Calvin
Coolidge Jr., 16, played tennis in shoes without wearing socks. It led to an
infected blister on his toe. He spiked a fever and had severe blood poisoning.
July 4, 1924, was President Coolidge’s 52nd birthday, but his son was in Walter
Reed Medical Center. Many Americans thought of Coolidge as the taciturn,
expressionless, unemotional caricature in political cartoons and newspaper
gossip, but in the day’s after Calvin Jr.’s death, everyone was stunned by the
open demonstration of the President’s grief. When he received the bill for
Calvin Jr.’s funeral services, the President refused to pay for several months,
as if he was unable to come to terms with the fact that his son was gone. The
President “lost his zest for living.”
David
Jeremiah told a story about Speaker Sam Rayburn learning that the teen daughter
of a reporter friend had died in a tragic accident. Early the very next
morning, he knocked on the door. Rayburn asked if there was anything he could
do. His friend, shocked and grieving
replied, “I don’t think there is anything you can do. We’re making all the
arrangements.” “Well, have you had your coffee this morning?” Rayburn asked. “No.
We haven’t had time” replied his friend. “Well,” the Speaker of the House
replied, “I can at least make the coffee.” The friend knew Rayburn was supposed
to be having breakfast at the White House.
“Well, I was, but I called the President and told him I had a friend who
was in trouble, and I couldn’t come.” Rayburn canceled breakfast with the
President of the United States to make coffee for his grieving friend. Could
you be such a friend?
When
he was just 22 years old, Bob Saget suffered a burst appendix that ended up
being gangrenous and was removed. Tragically, Bob Saget lost two sisters, both
at young ages. In 1984, his sister Andi died from a brain aneurysm when she was
35 years old. His other sister, Gay, died nine years later at 44 from an autoimmune
disease. Three uncles died from heart attacks before they were 40. The star
explained that this caused him to become "obsessed with death" from
an early age, saying that comedy was a lifesaver for him early on. It pushed
him harder to make people laugh. It was a defense mechanism and it truly helped
him survive. It helped keep him mentally alive rather than letting adversity
destroy him. Days after his mother gave birth to twins Robert and Faith in
1954, the hospital suffered an outbreak of dysentery, which infected their two
newborns and proved to be fatal. Bob was born two years to the day after the
twins, sharing their birthday. His parents named him Robert, which Saget
reported he regarded as an honor. Saget cited his family's dark, twisted sense of
humor as the thing that helped them survive these losses, and that death was a
regular topic in their household.
A
detective on a true crime show was wondering what is the best way to say dead.
He didn’t have to. A mother asked, “You found her, didn’t you? She’s dead,
isn’t she?” An extra bouquet was carried
at another daughter’s wedding and one put on the grave.
The
Wall Street Journal had a lengthy article about altered lives after shootings.
Some survivors discover purpose in helping others. Others fall into depression,
anxiety and addiction. One said they kept thinking that at some point a certain
anniversary would make her OK. Some suffer prolonged grief disorder. To this
day, one writes her name, date of birth and mother's cell on her thigh and shoulder
with a Sharpie when she leaves home just in case she falls victim. One cried
when she saw a similar pair of corduroy pants like the ones she wore during the
shooting she was in. Columbine High School removed Chinese food from the
cafeteria because that was what was served the day of the shooting. The
principal has a book, “They Call Me Mr. De.” In the first 10 years after the
shooting, he was in six car accidents, always in April, the anniversary month.
He finished out 15 years to fulfill a pledge to continue until every student in
area schools had graduated since the shooting date. The Rebels Project is a
support group for those affected.
As a
community, El Paso painted rocks and used messages that said Faith and El Paso
Strong after the Walmart shooting.
“Gone
Too Soon” by Chris Daughtry says today could have been the day that you blow
out your candles. Make a wish as you close your eyes. Today could have been the
day everybody was laughing. Instead I just sit here and cry. Who would you be?
What would you look like?
Michael
Jackson has the song, too. Here one day,
gone one night. Like the loss of sunlight on a cloudy afternoon, gone too soon.
Like a castle built upon a sandy beach, gone too soon.
It’s
hard when young people die, but I like the fact that while many nursing homes
have the funeral home enter through the back door, some do an honor walk. The
staff forms a line along the walls to the entrance. This is honoring a deceased
resident. This is embracing death. This is sacred.
Remember
the promise of eternal life. Our heavenly reunion will last for eternity. Your
loved one is in better hands. Eulogistically, recall an accolade, commendation,
homage or tribute. Recall the moments when time stood still and everything was
right, good, whole and wonderful.
A
medical journal article suggests some doctors may want to write clinical
obituaries (drafting informal summaries of benefits gained in the
doctor-patient relationship to celebrate the patient’s life). I read of one
doctor who tracks loss in medicine. On average, he lost a patient every six
weeks since May 2015. He said guilt can be toxic or negative or lead to growth.
It can motivate learning more to benefit patients.
Some
say grief never gets better; you just handle it. It does get better. You will probably become more compassionate
toward the grieving. People have no idea the compassion the daily mail can
bring—send a card or note to someone grieving.
Get rid of If-Onlys and Should-Have-Dones. No guilt trips!
Something that brings some joy to me is a car passing me on
the road with a BSV license plate—my father’s initials. I think my father has
turned up in the right place at the right time. I read where someone heard a
flutter in the middle of the night and knew an angel was looking down. You come
to the realization that “they can see us.”
Someone saw ladybugs while climbing a mountain he and his
late friend used to scale. A lady noticed heart shapes after her son, 7, died.
In leaves, puddles, rocks and clouds. In sea wood on a beach, she found a plastic
heart. It looked like one of his old toys used in learning shapes and it fit in
the exact slot when she took it home.
I watched a video from Plymouth Hall Museum. There were
death knell codes back in the day, rung twice three times for a woman or three
times three for a man. Then, the bell would toll one stroke for each year of
the deceased’s life. Those listening and counting had a good idea of who was
gone. Newspapers and telephones eventually made the death knell obsolete. Now
with technology, Caitlin Abrams shares stories from cemeteries on TikTok. There
is a TikTok video of ashes that spell “I heart u” in water.
Bells don’t ring anymore, but pay attention to the
obituaries now. It may be someone you know and can assist the family in some
way. Death is always going to be a part of your life. Do something.
One teen girl did 89 random acts of kindness for 18 months
for her late great-grandmother who died at 89. She launched her plan at a
McDonald's drive-thru, where she paid the $5 bill of the customer behind her.
Other random acts: donating items to the Humane Society, hanging out with
orphaned puppies there and “being a happy presence,” handing out smiley face
stickers, putting out pools for people to take to keep dogs cool and there was
one who helped a father who lost his newborn Photoshop the tubes out of the
picture. Do you have such ability for a special idea, especially after initial
grief support drops off?
