I'm so sorry for your loss.
This is something that, for reasons that are unclear to me now, I've become quite familiar with. The untimely loss of a loved one. It's never easy. And, obviously, your life and the lives of your family are about to change in ways you can't imagine. Please let me offer some advice, take it for what you will, but it's from my personal experience and I hope in some small way it can help prepare you for what's ahead.
People will say some things to you that will seem, at face value, unthinkably insensitive. They mostly mean well, but unless you've lived through this, words often fail us at times like these.
"He's in a better place"
Bullshit. His place is with you, where you thought he'd be until you were both well into your Golden Years.
"It was meant to be"
Why? Why was it meant to be that way? What purpose does it serve? Whose purpose?
"At least it happened fast, there was no suffering"
Excuse me? No suffering my ass. Have you noticed how my family and I feel? We're going through Hell here.
"Oh you're so strong. If it was me I don't know what I'd do"
This is probably the single most offensive thing you'll hear. How dare you imply I'm not hurting? How dare you think that whatever you've imagined in your head in the last 12 seconds is worse than what my family and I are ACTUALLY LIVING THROUGH?
And those are just for starters. There will be more. The people that offer these up truly mean well (almost all of them) but have no clue how hurtful these words can be.
You'll quickly be able to pick up whether someone is being sincere in their expression or not and that will be helpful. Sincerity goes a long way toward assuaging the feelings you're going through.
You'll also quickly learn to respond in kind. When someone offers up a disposable phrase of condolence, you'll respond with an innocuous word or two of thanks. But when someone reaches out in sincerity and touches your soul, however briefly, you'll be able to offer warm thanks to them.
Many people will tell you "call me if you need anything". Take them up on it. If something comes up that you can't deal with, call one of the people that made that offer and ask them to handle it for you. Whatever it may be, no matter how serious or mindless the task, there will be times that you just can't bring yourself to deal with it. So don't. Ask for help.
Your phone book will change. I promise you that. There will be people, in some cases long-time friends, that will stop calling you. Try not to take it personally, it's a "them" problem, not a "you" problem. And, conversely, there will be people you rarely had contact with that will become go-to sources for help, assurance, support, what have you. You'll find you can count on them for things you'd never imagine you could need.
Allow yourself time to grieve. I know you need to "be strong" for your family. And yourself too. But make sure to find some time, whenever you can, whenever you need it, to mourn your loss. You need it, more than you can know right now.
And don't ever, EVER, let someone try to tell you "you've grieved long enough, get over it, move on". Nothing makes my blood boil more than someone trying to tell me when I've had enough grief. The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, 4th Edition says if you're still grieving after six months, you've got a problem.
No shit.
You just lost someone that you loved. You don't, however, have a mental problem. I don't know if the 5th Edition says the same thing, but you'll find people that believe the 4th is gospel. They've never lived with loss. In my opinion, as long as you're not doing something that harms yourself, anything you do to deal with that loss is ok. Screw the DSM IV.
The first year is going to be rough. Dealing with all the "firsts" holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, etc. But the "seconds" will sneak up on you. You'll think "I made it through the first year, I'm ok now" and as the "seconds" roll in, they'll hit you like a sucker punch to the gut. So be aware of them too.
Please remember hundreds, if not thousands of people, some you've never met and some you may never meet, are offering up their thoughts and prayers to you and your family. You have more love and strength coming to you than you can imagine. I hope that offers some small degree of support.
It doesn't get easier with time. But you'll learn to live with your new "normal". We all have. I always equate it to being a recovering alcoholic; one step at a time. Keep putting one foot in front of the other and you'll get there. Of course, I don't know where "there" is.
I don't know if I ever will.
I'll see you tonight, my friend.
Peace
No comments:
Post a Comment