Unpacking Grief
I lost my mom twice. First, to early-onset Alzheimer’s disease, and finally to lung cancer. It is probably the hardest thing I have had to walk through, yet I am not too naive to think it will be the last. Having lived abroad for fifteen years when she passed, I dealt with a lot of guilt and regret for the years we’d been apart. I had missed her real-time presence in my life and felt I ‘d cheated her out of getting to know her grandchildren - and me for that matter, as my life had taken on so many new dimensions the further I ventured from home. Guilt and regret are hard task masters and, had I not had the few weeks at home caring for my mom in her final days, I don’t know if I would have survived their taunts.
Never in our wildest dreams could we have imagined not being allowed to be with loved ones in their last moments, or grieve with our families at their gravesides.
When we got my mom’s prognosis of 6 months, 6 years ago, we packed up our things in Austin and put them into storage. We let out the house, took the girls out of school, and packed our suitcases to go back to South Africa to say our goodbyes. What seemed like a drastic move then, feels like an incredible privilege right now in our current global situation. Never in our wildest dreams could we have imagined not being allowed to be with loved ones in their last moments, or grieve with our families at their gravesides. My heart groans at the thought, yet the stories keep pouring in. An aunt passing from the COVID-virus and the family having to comfort each other over the phone. A parent’s death, unrelated to the virus, yet all three children living abroad and thus unable to return home to arrange a funeral. Loved ones dying alone in hospitals the world over. With all this lack of closure around losing loved ones, we need to be aware of the unresolved grief that those around us, and even ourselves, may be dealing with.
Grief. Is. Real.
“Grief is real”. This was one of the comments on my Facebook group last week as people wrote in to list their losses, and it resonated. The middle of a transition can feel chaotic as we begin to grieve the effects of the change, and this grief can manifest in a variety of ways. Take a look at the (inconclusive) list below to see if you can identify with any of these symptoms:
Physical: backache, chest tightness, dizziness, frowning, grinding teeth, hives, headaches, indigestion, insomnia, loss of appetite, muscle tightness, pounding heart, sexual disinterest, sighing, sleeping too much, stomach ache, tiredness, weakness, weight loss or gain.
Emotional: agitation, anger, anxiety, apathy, blaming others, crying, depression, dread, fear, feelings of worthlessness, guilt, indecisiveness, jealousy, loss of self-esteem, moodiness, powerlessness, restlessness, regret, sadness, self-criticism, suspicion, yearning.
Mental: difficulty concentrating, errors in judging distance, forgetfulness, loss of creativity, memory loss, thinking you are different from everyone else, thoughts of death or suicide, worrying.
Spiritual: feeling lost or empty, feeling abandoned or punished by God, questioning your religious beliefs, wondering about the meaning of life.
Social: changes in work performance, seeking approval and reassurance from others, trying to stay constantly active, wanting more attention and affection, wanting to spend more time alone.
Simply knowing these symptoms are part of the normal grieving process can help us identify that we are in fact grieving, we are not going crazy, nor are we alone in feeling this way.
Simply knowing these symptoms are part of the normal grieving process can help us identify that we are in fact grieving, we are not going crazy, nor are we alone in feeling this way. Understanding which stage of grief you might be in: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, or acceptance (Elisabeth Kübler-Ross) may be useful too; especially when we realize that it is not a linear process and more like a rollercoaster tossing you back and forth between stages without a moment’s notice. Self-awareness can be key in allowing mourning to begin.
Another way of unpacking grief, is understanding the types of grief we could be experiencing during this COVID season. There is collective grief, where as a global community we are watching our economic, education, and healthcare systems destabilize. There is anticipatory grief as we look ahead to a future that seems uncertain, and even the traumatic grief I alluded to earlier, as we grieve loved ones whom we perceive to have died in frightening, unexpected, or traumatic ways.
It’s going to be hard for us helpers and caregivers out there, but start by putting your own oxygen mask on first.
The question remains: what do we do when we, and so many around us, are feeling the same thing? It’s going to be hard for us helpers and caregivers out there, but start by putting your own oxygen mask on first. Self-care feels decidedly selfish in times when we can see so much suffering around us, but it is crucial for longevity of care. Read more about this on my blog #selfcaresunday. Then, whilst we cannot all be bereavement counselors, we can support one another in this season by listening well, wrapping language around our experience, and leaning in to hope. I’ve included a podcast I was interviewed in on this topic and you can listen to it here. In more difficult cases research resources like hospice, bereavement support services, and mental health practitioners if necessary. Lastly, let’s be kind to ourselves and one another; grieving differs from person to person and it follows its own schedule. Grieving takes time.
“Here’s the deal. The human soul doesn’t want to be advised or fixed or saved. It simply wants to be witnessed - to be seen, heard, companioned exactly as it is.” - Parker Palmer