

How do you deal with the death of a family member or a friend? Here are some excerpts from The Why Files that I hope will be helpful.
What is grief?
Grief is an emotion
of loss. Perhaps you have felt that emotion when a parent or your
spouse moved away after a divorce, when you broke up with a boy- or girlfriend,
or when you moved away from your old neighborhood. Even losing a valued
object (such as a class ring or some other memento) or an important ball
game creates a sense of grief. There's a feeling of separation and loss.
Grief and love
are two very similar emotions --if you're capable of love, you are capable
of grief. Only a person who never loves never grieves. When you love someone,
you feel a oneness and fulfillment with that person. But you also open
yourself up to the possibility for grief--when he or she break-ups with
you, moves away or dies. The relationship is over and that strong emotion
of love mutates like some hideous sci-fi monster into equally strong grief.
"Grief,"
then, is the B-side side of love. Love expresses emotional oneness, grief
expresses emotional separation. "Mourning" is the long, painful
process of working through that grief. (In other words, grief is what we
feel, mourning is how we react to it.) It's natural to feel up one day
and down the next. The strong feelings of grief may seem frightening when
we first feel the full force of this powerful emotion. But like other emotions,
it's "normal," natural," and "okay."
Each person,
however, responds differently to a single death. In the case of a famous
person, the grief may be very short-lived since you didn't know them personally.
But, on the other hand, if you had a strong emotional attachment to that
famous person--who didn't know you--there may be intense grief. Here are
some general patterns in how most people experience grief.
Stage One:
Shock, numbness, disbelief (one to three days)
"I just
can't believe it!" When you first heard the news, you probably felt
immediate sense of shock and disbelief. Like "denial" in the
dying process, disbelief insulates our emotions so we can deal with immediate
demands. If it is a close loved one there may be the tasks of notifying
friends and relatives, calling our pastor, letting the school know we'll
be out for a few days, cleaning the house for visitors, and so on.
Once the initial
numbness wears off, it's normal to cry--everything from watery eyes to
uncontrollable sobbing. Crying is a healthy emotional expression of grief,
so don't feel that you're being "weak." And ignore ignorant cliches
like "smile and the whole world smiles with you, cry and you cry alone.
And it's not
unusual to feel anger toward the person for dying: "How dare you leave
me to suffer like this!" You may feel angry at the medical staff for
not saving your loved one's life--even though the doctors and nurses did
everything possible. And it's not uncommon to feel angry at God--even if
you're a very devout believer. It's "okay"!
Allow these emotions
to be expressed to those you can trust with your feelings--your family,
your best friend, a therapist, or a clergy person.
Stage Two:
Painful longing and preoccupation with memory and mental images (up
to one year)
We often think
that the funeral is the hardest time for the survivors, so we may bring
in food, visit the family, and attend the funeral. But afterward, we assume
they've started the work of putting their life back together. Actually,
Stage Two becomes most intense between the second and fourth week afterward.
The following experiences are strong for about the first three months and
then gradually begin to diminish over the next six months to a year:
- Painful longing
to be with and talk with the dead person
- Preoccupation
with the death (you can't think of anything else)
- Memories of
dead person
- Mental images
of the dead person
- Sensing that
the dead person is in the same room
- Sadness
- Tearfulness
- Inability to
sleep
- Lack of concentration
- Loss of appetite
- Loss of interest
in things you once enjoyed
- Irritability
- Restlessness
You may want
to post this list on the refrigerator as fair warning to friends and family
members. (In 1800's those grieving bore black "mourning bands"
on their arms to announce, "Take it easy on me!")
And don't be
afraid to turn to professionals for help during this difficult time. Your
doctor may prescribe sleeping pills or tranquillizers so you can sleep
nights. School counselors, youth workers, or pastors can provide emotional
support and suggestions for overcoming this time of loss. If they can't,
they can refer you to those who can.
Stage Three:
Resolution and resumption of ordinary life activities (within one year
of death)
Starting at about
six months, most of us will begin getting back into our normal activities.
(Life will never be "normal" again, we can continue many previously
"normal" activities.) We'll continue to be broadsided by occasional
waves of grief described in Stage Two. But these will become less and less
frequent, even though they may be just as intense. Stage Three is summed
up with:
- Acceptance of
the death
- Decreasing sadness
- The ability
to recall past experienced with the deceased with pleasure rather than
pain
- Resuming ordinary
activities.
How should
I respond to those who are grieving?
So how do we
respond to those going through the mourning process? By saying stuff like
"I understand exactly how you feel." Brrrrrooooonk! Wrong answer!
We may have both
lost a grandfather, but there are a kabillion differences between my loss
and yours. Things you don't understand or know. What kind of relatioship
did we have? Were we close or did we see each other only at Christmas?
What were the last words spoken? Were they loving, harsh--or worse--indifferent?
What kinds of questions, thoughts, and feelings are churning in my mind?
What is my concept of death? Or life after death?
See, you really
don't "understand." And neither do I completely understand your
loss. But I can help by sharing how I felt at my grandfather's death.
And in that way, I'm giving you freedom to share your grief.
An older friend
recently told me the advice her aunt gave her at the death of her mother
twenty years ago. "Don't embarrass us and your self making a scene
by crying." Fortunately, "keeping a stiff upper lip" and
squelching our emotions went out of style with my grandfather's ties!
"You don't
have to talk about the details of the death," is another innocent,
but insensitive statement. We somehow think we'll cause them more pain
by them talking about it, but it's actually a part of healing. For instance,
when my wife's father died, her mother must have told the story of his
death ten times--how she found him collapsed on the dining room floor,
how she called 9-1-1, how she tried CPR that she had seen on TV, how she
rode with him in the ambulance. But interestingly, each time she told it,
she seemed to gain emotional strength and comfort. Talking about the details--even
if they're cancer, suicide, drowning, murder, or AIDS--helps
us past the denial stage and on to dealing realistically with the death.
So, what the
best thing to say? The most helpful thing is:
Yep, you can't
go wrong with nothing. A shared tear, a squeezed hand, a hug, or just being
there is usally the best help. Whatever you do, don't spout off pat answers.
Where is God
in this tragedy?
The book of Psalms
is filled with such questions. "My God, my God, why have you forsaken
me? Why do you refuse to help me or even listen to my groans? Day and night
I keep on weeping, crying for your help, but there is no reply" (Psalm22:1-2).
Where is God?
He is right there beside us as we struggle with the many questions surrounding
the death. He may not write the answers across the sky, but His Son Jesus
Christ understands our questions.
Why do good
people die so young? Jesus answers, I understand your question.
I died at thirty-three.
Why do some
people have to die such painful deaths? I understand your pain.
I was beaten, whipped, and crucified.
I miss him/her
so much here on earth. I understand your grief. I left heaven to
come to earth.
Why can't
people just live forever and not have to die? I understand the problem.
I came to give you eternal life.
God does
understand. He wants to hear what you're feeling .
So in review,
grief is a normal--but sometimes a confusing and uncontrollable--emotion.
And mourning (dealing with grief) is a long, painful process. But remember:
you will once again enjoy living and loving, you will get your appetite
back, the pain will diminish, you will be able to sleep soundly again and
you will be able to enjoy pleasant memories of the deceased.
Copyright © 1992
James N. Watkins

Comments
I read some excerpts from The Why Files and thought I would write to you and see
if you can give me some advice. My husband just lost his father due to
complications of a 12 1/2 year single lung transplant. It wasn't a
surprise, he had been going down for the last 4 months and we knew it was
coming. My husband and I have been married for 20 years so I was very
close to my father-in-law because my dad died when I was young. My
husband and I are very close we have a wonderful marriage and usually
talk about everything. I know different people deal with death in
different ways but he has just kind of closed up and is not really
talking to me. It is so hard for me to take, I have told him that I am
here for him if he needs to talk and he said he knows that. What should
I do? Kimberly (November 2006)
What you're describing is very typical. Click here
for an article I wrote for Today's Christian Woman on how men and women react so very
differently and communicate in very different ways. I hope that's helpful. And just keep reminding your
husband that
whenever he wants to talk, you're there to listen. (My guess is that
he's doing his grieving in the workshop or on the golf course.)

MY MOM PASSED MARCH 1,04. I WAS HER CARE GIVER.WE I WAS THERE 24/7 FOR 2
YEARS. NOW THAT SHE IS GONE SO AM I. I CAN NOT REMEMBER THE PAST YEAR
AND IT IS
NOT GETTING BETTER. IS THIS NORMAL? WHAT CAN I DO?
THANKS, ABBY (February 2005)
What you're going through is absolutely normal. I have a good friend, Michael Fraley, who
went through this very
same experience. I've asked him to respond:
+ + +
I've been through the same thing, only for me I
was caregiving for a little over eight years. My wife went through a very
similar experience with her mother, caregiving for four years. So,
hopefully, I have a little pool of experience to draw off of for you.
For a long time you were doing something terribly important for another
human being. If you felt as I did, it was a 100% investment of time,
thought and energy. When my mother passed away, I felt absolutely without
purpose. Actually, the term I used was "unemployed." My job had left me.
This had a way of making me feel very disconnected from reality, because
my reality, my identity, was entirely wrapped up in someone else. This
was in addition to the normal amount of grief that a person would feel
after losing a loved one. Between grief and loss of identity, life had
packed me quite a wallop. Perhaps you may understand. No wonder you don't
remember much of the past year - your mind has been working on overload.
One thing I had to do, and perhaps this is something you've found too, is
that you have to start rebuilding your life again. Not that I'm a huge
"Austin Powers" fan, but people understood it when I told them I was
"coming out of the deep freeze." Most of my personal life experiences had
stopped in 1992. Suddenly, it was March of 2000, and I was let loose on
the world again without much of a clue. I'd managed to hold down a job
during that time, but not much more.
So here are some ideas to get back on track:
- Make sure your relationship with God is on track. He is the one who
holds and shapes your identity, your life and your future.
- Allow yourself to grieve, but spend time with good friends, do good
things, and get a lot of fresh air.
- Allow yourself to live. Begin collecting new memories and new
experiences.
I hope that helps. Feel free to e-mail at michael@michaelfraley.com if you like.
Blessings, Michael

Your article has saved my life tonight and showed me a path toward hope. I have very little
words to say, still in severe pain from the death of my boyfriend six months ago. But, I felt a
needed to say thank you [name withheld] (January 2004).
Thank you for writing. Remember what you're going through is normal and that you will once again return to
a new normal. You're in my thoughts and prayers.
© Copyright James N. Watkins

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