Living (and dealing) with Regret

Regret usually isn’t the first grief emotion we experience. Shock and sadness hit first, but as time passes, a sense of sorrow that we missed doing or saying something becomes regret.

I always use the metaphor of pot of stew to describe the emotional aspect of grief. The liquid is the sadness. Sadness washes over everything. But there is more to grief-stew than sadness. Often grievers identify shock, anger, guilt, confusion, and regret — common ingredients in a grief-stew. I will write more about shock, anger, guilt and confusion in later posts but in this one, I focus on regret.

Penny’s usually soft voice softened even further when she broached the topic of her husband’s lengthy illness. She regretted not connecting with him on a deeper level during that time. Regretted not allowing herself to really understand what his illness was like for him.

She was only now realizing, a year later, that they experienced his illness very differently. She had experienced his illness as a challenge to conquer. If she just loved him enough. If she made sure he followed all his doctor’s orders. If she monitored his eating, took care of his various physical needs, cheered him on and encouraged him — surely, he would get well. Cancer was an enemy to be beaten, vanquished, taken to the mat.

She struggled with how she had brushed off those times when he was silent — he’d never been much of a talker — without inquiring how he was experiencing his illness. Realistically, she was aware that he might not have had the words or the intention to share. She knew he struggled with the pain, the annoyance of having doctor’s appointments as his major outings, having to give up the job he loved, and at the end being so dependent on her. But what was it really like?

She could see his illness ravage his body but how did being ill impact his heart, soul and mind? She didn’t know because she had been afraid to ask. She had always been the practical one, the one who did things, the one who solved problems in her work life and did her best to solve problems in her personal life. She had never been the one to initiate conversation about difficult topics. And now, she was sorry.

If you, a widow, are grieving the death of a partner due to illness, you may now realize that you also experienced his illness — albeit differently. Obviously, your partner experienced the actual physical sensations and pain — and you did not. But you experienced emotional pain and, perhaps, sometimes mirrored his physical pain.

In a close relationship, partners often absorb each other’s feelings. We read body language and facial expressions and, in a long term relationship, we learn to read micro interactions which give us clues to each other’s wellbeing. We pick up on minute differences in behaviour and presentation, often unconsciously. Neuropsychologists attribute this ability to mirror neurons, our capacity for empathy. (See more on mirror neurons here.)

Navigating a partner’s illness is by nature complicated. As with grief, serious illness is a journey without an operators manual or accurate map. Doctors and other medical professionals, in spite of significant knowledge, still struggle with timelines and accurate predictions.

If you think back, you will likely remember experiencing anticipatory grief, even if you didn’t know the term. Anticipatory grief is a profound sense of loss prior to the actual loss. Often this feeling is confusing and may come out masked by secondary emotions — often as anger or  irritability. You may have felt a sense of foreboding or dread but may not have been able to speak to anyone about it.

Side note: Here’s where I wish people would go see a professional counsellor. When your partner is ill, you are not ok. This illness isn’t just your partner’s, this illness is ours. Having a non-family member, who will listen without judgement, to how life is changing all around you, can and will give you strength to carry on.

As you think back, you may see that your partner may have come to terms with death well before you did, keeping that private so not to worry you. You may have missed opportunities, yes, but he may not have been able or willing to share what you are now longing for. Opening up that conversation may not have taken you where you wished to go.

Regardless of regret, you are left with now, how to live in the present not the past. So what to do? Find a piece of paper. Write out your regrets. Write with as much detail as you can. This may be in the form of a letter but does not have to be. Then take this writing, this letter, and find a meaningful place for it. Perhaps in a book that your partner treasured. Perhaps where he kept his important papers. Trust yourself to know the right place. And give back your regrets, all of them.