Marie continued to cry daily, in spite of the therapeutic work we had done together after her husband’s death. She struggled to understand how her adult children managed to just go on with their lives not long after the funeral. Did they not love their dad? She was still so raw and they appeared to be remarkably functional — she lamented with an obvious twinge of hurt and barely suppressed anger?
Amanda walked into my office, visibly upset. Her mother died 5 years ago. Her older sister lived on the other side of the city. Amanda, who was significantly younger, was close to her mom, both physically and emotionally. She often stopped by, just for a visit, as Mom lived between her house and their closest shopping centre.
Her sister had unresolved issues going back many years, some seemingly connected to their parents’ divorce. Her sister avoided small talk visits, checking in only when necessary. Even as time passed, the anniversaries of Mom’s death were experienced differently. One struggled to remember the date; the other re-lived the loss yearly. This difference separated them and Amanda struggled to be sisterly every year around that time.
Have you noticed as you’re grieving how your experience seems different from anyone else’s? Your experience IS different. You are not imagining it is.
As a counsellor, I often seem to have two or more clients with similar concerns on my caseload at any one time. I’ll be seeing two who are grieving their mothers. Two recently divorced. Two, or more, with anxiety issues. I once even had two clients, unrelated, whose family members died by suicide within weeks of each other. I’m always (and I shouldn’t be) amazed at how different people can have similar life experiences and yet, respond to them in very different ways.
One may spend significant time trying to understand exactly how the death occurred. Once he or she has enough understanding, the grieving process moves on. Another may also work to understand the death but be stalled in the grief process by other factors.
Settling the estate may complicate grieving. For some, these last financial and legal tasks take years and thus stall the grieving process. Was he or she buried or cremated? If cremated and the ashes were not interred where they are being stored may be painful to the griever and difficult to speak of.
In the book, An Unremarried Widow, the author Artis Henderson’s husband dies in a helicopter crash in Iraq. He is with another pilot who also does not survive the crash. The author feels no need to pour over autopsy reports, crash site photos, or military documentation. The other widow amasses a huge file of correspondences and documentation. She needed to know! She could only move forward once she had specific questions answered. The author knew her husband had died. That was enough of a fact for her.
Bob Deits, in Life after Loss, states that one of the four key facts about grief is that the very worst kind of grief is yours. Your grief reflects your relationship with the person you lost — be it your partner, your parent, your child, or a friend. If it was close and loving, you will grieve that closeness. If that relationship was difficult, you may be grieving the hope that it could improve. Others who knew that this relationship was difficult may be surprised at the intensity of your grief, thinking you should be relieved rather than grieving. Sadly, relationships are never finished. Your grief also is impacted by what else you are experiencing. If your work is difficult, grief work will also be difficult. If you are worried about finances — your journey will feel that impact. Those who have good friends and family to support them, will grieve differently than someone who grieves alone — even if the actual loss is similar.
In the same way as your fingerprint is different from the widow who you just met yesterday, your grieving is likewise. Be gentle with yourself. Be gentle with others. Allow yourself to be different.
References:
The Unremarried Widow. (Artis Henderson)
Other recommended books can be found HERE.
