Girlfriends' Guide: We've Forgotten How To Mourn
Most of us don't get very far in life without experiencing the death of someone we love. And by mid-life, where I currently reside, people seem to be kicking off at an alarming rate as parents, mentors even, God forbid, people our own age or younger pass away. That is certainly true for me, having lost my beloved grandparents, my father and my only sibling, a younger brother in the past decade. I've gone to more funerals than I wanted to and fewer than I should have, but I still have such uncertainty about grief and mourning.
Being a fifth-generation Californian, I have almost no heritage or tradition that is more than fifty years old. Sure, I am culturally informed enough to roast a turkey at Thanksgiving and that sort of thing, but as to the BIG issues, like the meaning of life and death and the framework in which to place them still has me all bollixed up. My Iowa-born mother saw to our Presbyterian baptisms and we attended Sunday School, but our parents just dropped us off there and picked us up after they'd enjoyed a free hour to read the Sunday paper without kids.
I don't think religion or church occupied any more of my life after about age 7 until I was in my thirties and having my own kids, at which point I saw to their three Presbyterian baptisms and our fourth's Catholic baptism -- a gift to my Brooklyn Italian mother-in-law. Brand loyalty clearly meant little to us; we just stuck to Christianity since it made celebrating holidays and recognizing messiahs easier. We even became Episcopalians for a few years and joined the church that sponsored a school my kids attended.
Being pragmatic about religion has robbed my family and me of the life instructions that ancient religions can offer. Leaving aside the tenets and dogma of religion, I think the Judeo-Christian religions have got the rules for the rhythms of our lives very nicely spelled out. A case could be made that all of religion really started out as a way of trying to figure death out -- whether there is more than life on Earth; how to make sense out of the loss of a beloved.
The death of a beloved person is such a mess, such a theft, such a halt to our lives. I am repeatedly frustrated and disappointed by our banal attempts to streamline it and make it convenient to fit into our busy lives. When my baby brother (he will always be that to me) died after a horrid and painful illness, I was obliterated. Really. I'd spent an entire year trying to save him (and me with him) and we lost.
I couldn't take it. I had nowhere to put my pain, no place to show it but in my shower or in the car after I'd dropped the kids at school. People would ask, "How are you doing?" and I would numbly reply that I was fine; if I'd uttered the truth, that I felt lost and adrift and angry and sick, I was pretty certain our pleasantries would take a dreadful and unexpected turn for the inquirer. So instead of skipping the small talk for a season, I skipped describing my grief. And in doing so, I skipped a lot of usefulness of mourning to heal. I got so fatigued by running into people who didn't know about my loss and having to say, "Well, my brother, died two months ago and so and so is playing varsity football and yes, I will be happy to drive the kids to the movies"
It would have been so much more accurate to have walked around with a dagger protruding from my heart to show the damage done to me. Jews traditionally wear, or wore, a piece of dark cloth pinned to their clothes to wordlessly explain the context in which the mourner walks. My mother-in-law wore black after her husband died, and I recall selfishly wishing she could give up the somber look for our wedding sixth months later, so as not to bring us down. Ah, well, we all know brides are insane.
We need to go back to those outward signs now. Maybe not the wearing of black -- New York City would look like it was grieving perpetually. But something with a couple of words, like a little sign or necklace or pin, saying "I'm Grieving" or "Be Gentle" or "Ask me about my brother/mother/husband/dog" whichever suits the occasion. We might even change the message daily or hourly, rather like an emoticon. On the days that one doesn't feel like participating in life's cabaret, a message such as "Please excuse me, I'm not really here." Then, if we cry at the dry cleaners or beside the copy machine, people will give us our space and not take it personally.
The reality is, losing a beloved is life-altering. We recover, but we are never the same. Everyone, if they we lucky, experiences grief and needs the protection and gentleness of those around us. We may move among you, but our perspective is altered for quite a while. In the meantime, we need to be able to go out in public without always being a full-participant. After a year of watching my brother die, and crying and suffering throughout, I wanted to lift the dark veil off my family and friends after he died. I didn't think anyone needed to be burdened with still another year of anguish from me. Perhaps I didn't feel entitled to be sad any longer. But we do and we must give grief its time and place for so much longer than most of us dare to in the land of constant productivity and achievement. Hey, I didn't invent this -- it's the result of lessons of the millennia and we've just forgotten it.
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Have you ever heard of the French word, chantepluer? I believe it means "singing through the tears."
A great word to describe parts of grief when you start to feel happy enough to sing but then your loss hits and you literally are singing through the tears. And that my friends is where the blues comes from.
Grief is a good teacher but is a tough task master. Good post and wish I had more people to talk with after my best friend died.
A good friend of mine lost his sister to suicide recently. Very hard on him. He ended up getting some excellent grief therapy and it really helped him.
Peace on ya'll and blessings especially if you are grieving for someone now.
I agree that we need some sort of outward sign during the grieving period. As a child, I watched "It's A Wonderful Life" every year during the holidays, and I always wondered about the band on Harry Bailey's arm after his father's death. I finally asked my mother what it meant, and she explained the tradition of wearing a black armband for a year after the death of a loved one. At the time, I thought it was a strange and morbid thing to do, but now that I am much older and a little wiser, I wish that tradition had never faded away. A band, pin, necklace--
Many condolences to all those who shared their own stories of loss. May you find healing and peace.
I'm 54 and have never lost a close family member or close friend.
A few work colleagues I wasn't that close to.
I have lost pets I've loved dearly.
I'm not sure how I'll survive the death of a family member. I was devastated when my dog died. I was almost non-functional.
Death has come to me very late in life. Our family dog growing up died when I was in college. I was closest to her and had to take several days off from school. When my own dog died when I was 50 I had to take days off from work. I couldn't let my students see me burst into tears in the middle of class and I couldn't control myself enough to ensure I wouldn't.
I have no coping mechanisms for the death of a family member. My parents will be 80 this year.
Since you realize you are of a sensitive nature I encourage you to seek out a grief support group or therapist when the time comes. I was not as fortunate. I experienced significant losses through death (of people and pets), divorce, and abandonment prior to age 11. I was just a kid so no one thought I needed help. I agree that losing pets is just as painful as losing people. Once I was reprimanded when I was caught crying because it would just upset my mother. Seek out the people, pets, places, nature, music, etc. to assist in your healing and try not to pressure yourself into doing it quickly. Our culture places too much emphasis on getting over it and getting on. There should not be an expiration date on grief. Try to celebrate the life and memory of those departed. Be gentle with yourself.
After I lost my sister I would scan rooms looking for a sign that someone else was dying inside. I began to understand that millions of grievers walk the earth at the same moment and yet we go on. I remember being stunned at the level of pain, anger and sadness that I felt. I physically suffered w/the loss of my period for 6 months, gallbladder and liver problems and horrible depression and anxiety. This experience taught me so much.....l
Beautifully said. I spent 20 years trying to save a sibling from drugs, alcohol and himself and in the end I lost, and lost him. Everyone asked my parents how they were, having lost a son, and they asked me how my parents were. Nobody asked me how I was, like it didn't affect me. But it did, deeply, because I felt like I had failed him. I'd promised myself early on that I would do everything in my power to help him and I couldn't. Rationally I know that every person is responsible for themself but somehow the logic disappears when it is your baby brother. I can still remember vividly the last time I saw him alive and, unfortunately, when I saw him after his heart had given out. Thank you for sharing your story.
I did not forget how to mourn.I am blessed with friends who helped me mourn the loss of the 2 friends of my lifetime. 1st Debbie - there the day I was born & just 1 month old.I wonder if I would have survived my childhood without her, her family, and our friends. We remained close to support each other since we lost the center of our circle.A few months later I lost David.He wandered into my life in 1970- and taught me about the safety of the lasting love of friendship
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Beautiful post, thank you. What you point out from your experience is so true and valuable to hear about. Grieving in my view is one of the most important and healthy processes we can experience. I hope what you have shared may bring peace and solace to readers who are now grieving.
This post is so true. We don't take the time to grieve and when you try to even the most well intentioned friends try to move you away from it. My husband died in 2005. I was left with our two boys at the time age 6 months and 6 years. He went through a six month battle with pancreas cancer and just when I was getting used to him being sick, he died. Although I go through my life and try my best to raise my kids, every day I still ache...but nobody wants to hear that - the question I hear most is "are you dating yet?" I think it's so sad that people want to rush you through honoring a love, a person, a relationship. That disposable attitude - well, he's dead - find someone new your boys need a father etc. It is a such a struggle to honor your sadness, deal with the harsh reality of separation and try to rediscover who you are now that your loved one, my husband is gone. I wish for just one moment those who haven't lost could understand - but I don't want them to ever have to hurt like I have or my children have. My husband is always a part of us and being sad, missing him, missing who we were with him is some of the most important work we will ever do.
Thanks for this post Vicki!
Thank you for discussing this very important, but seldom discussed topic. Please accept my deepest sympathy on the loss of your brother. I, too spent a year trying to save a loved one who ultimately died. When it was all over, I fell apart. Still, like you, I felt pressure to behave as though everything was okay. I think that just prolongs grieving. Our society is so uncomfortable with death that it does not acknowledge the need to grieve. I agree with you that we need some modern rituals to help us through these painful times.
This is an important topic, and nicely done. I actually started out as a very private griever, but when my mother died, a friend died and my dog died all around the same time, I just allowed myself to be swept away as much as I could. I needed to feel it and experience the ebb and flow. Grieving more authentically helped me grow deeper spiritually, a sort of ride through hell and back into the land of the living that changed my worldview forever. Yet, the love that was shared was worthy of the grieving. It must be allowed, it is natural.
And yes, life is never the same after losing loved ones. I believe my loved ones—and yes, even my dog!—are in the universe somewhere being where they are supposed to be and that one day we will all again. Call me crazy, but it soothes and works for me!
A book recommendation if you haven't already read it: A Grief Observed, by C. S. Lewis.
A good book, which also delves into the subject of grieving is "I Don't Know What to Say: How to Help and Support Someone Who Is Dying ", by Dr. Robert Bruckman.
http://www
I can't count the many times people put their feet in their mouths with the intention of saying something comforting. This book gives sensitive advice on how to avoid being on the giving or receiving end of words that aren't helpful, in spite of good intentions.
It must have been difficult for you to write something so personal. To say "losing a beloved is life-altering" is so true, yet barely begins to convey the reality.
I lost my only sister, my father, and grandparents in a period of 3 years. In the same period, my husband came close to dying suddenly at age 38.
As an artist, the experience completely changed the way I worked. During the initial grieving period (I say initial, because I wonder if it really ends), I made a palm-sized book of 44 drawings called "Keening," in an effort to cope with my sister's illness and death. I donated all proceeds from it to charity (cancer research), and the book received many acclamations. The best feedback was knowing that it touched others who had also survived devastating loss.
Of the few words in the whole book, I chose to quote from Shakespeare's Macbeth,
"Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak
Whispers the o'erfraught heart and bids it break."
You can view it on-line here: Keening
The best we can to heal ourselves is to help others. People grieve differently, and I've found it important when dealing with others who are grieving to focus entirely on what they're going through, rather than burdening them further with my own experiences.
Oops. I messed up the link above. It should be:
Keening: http://sky
Well written Girlfriend,
Grief is overwhelming and universal. You've given grief a moment to surface in the safety of verbiage, in your sensitive, poignant, familiar with the topic, girlfriend way, thank you. For myself, grief can arise at the most inopportune moments, triggered by absolutely nothing in particular for no discernible reason what so ever. It can creep up out of the blue after after lying dormant for years and leave me blubbering in my pillow. I don't think religion can begin to touch the mystery of love and the mysterious way that loss doesn't mean gone. Thank you Vic, for giving of your intimate person so selflessly on this topic.
Your ever fervent fan Corki
I'm so sorry for your loss. I have read about your brother in your books. The sadness must be overwhelming. My condolences.
Really as ONLY in American do corrupt organization TEACH Prey on families..
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