Death and Complicated Grief Community Group
Has it been months/years, and you're still grieving the death of a loved one? Are the feelings of loss debilitating and not improving? Welcome to complicated grief.
Two months ago I was told by my grammy that my grampy was feeling a little sick. My uncle James went from Maine down to Florida to cook and clean and just to care for my grandparents. He was there for 2-3 weeks before my uncle David went down to replace my uncle James. While my uncle James was home I called him and finally got the truth of the situation. I was told that my grampy had inoperable bone cancer. I had to tell my mother and my brother what was going on since my grammy refused to tell us the truth. I understand that she was trying to protect us as we are all very close, but I feel that we had a right to know the truth. After I told my grammy that I knew what was going on, she was honest with me, just not my brother or my mother. On Monday the second of March I made my daily phone call to my grammy and was told that my grampy had a drs appt the next day. My wife then took over talking to my grammy and was told that my grampy was hurting so bad, and that we had no idea how long my grampy had. My wife mentioned to my grammy that hospice care might help because they can have a nurse come to the home and help administer iv pain medications to help my grampy feel better. She was told that my grampys dr and my grammy were already thinking about hospice care. On Tuesday the third I called my grammy around 6pm. Grammy said that an ambulance was there to take my grampy to the hospice. My mom, my wife, and I decided to leave that very night (in the middle of a Maine snowstorm) to drive to Florida and see my grandparents. My brother flew down on Friday. We arrived at my grandparents home on Thursday the fifth at 10pm. We were told to go straight to my grandparents home. We went to sleep after a very long drive. My grammy woke my wife before 7am on Friday the 6th and was told that my grampy had passed and that she had to go. My wife was given the task of telling me and my mother that my grampy was gone. We never got to say goodbye while he was still living and breathing. A couple of hours after my wife broke the news we were told to come to the hospice and say goodbye. My last memory of my grampy is of him cold, his mouth wide open as if he were gasping for air. My grandfather was more than a grandfather to me. He was like a father, he was my hero, and my role-model. I miss him so much every single day. I don't know how to cope. I don't know how to live without him. I am working with my therapist, but she can only do so much.
There isn't anything that anyone can say or do to stop the burning pain of grief. As mere mortals, we're not innately equipped to handle such a psychological assault. Dealing with the ever constant, ever present, pain is something that must be learned. The pain never goes away, you just have to become bigger than it. How to do that is a highly personal, extremely difficult, challenge. Perhaps it is the greatest challenge we will ever face.
I spent a lot of time looking for a magic bullet. Something that would soothe my soul. I didn't know what to do, how to handle the enormity of my loss. I looked to someone, anyone, to tell me how to reverse the damage that had been done. No one could. I grew more frustrated, more despondent, more frantic, and sank further and further into despair. In effect, I added to my pain. I wish someone would have told me to stop looking for a way to erase it all, 'cause it wasn't ever gonna happen. It took me a long time to understand this, to accept it. That this pain, this grief, is now a part of me. Every time I thought of those I lost, I would miss them, remember the ugly way they died...it's an inescapable fact.
Yes, a therapist can only do so much. Each person we encounter can only do so much. Take what comfort you can from these people, but know that no one can offer a complete solution. Not ever. I know what a blow this is, how hopeless it can feel. It is possible, though, to find a way through all of this. It can be done, it has been done. There is a place where the pain is not so overwhelming, fight to get there. When you feel bad, for feeling bad, when you feel like you're failing because you're not happy...stop. You're going to feel bad, accept it. There's nothing wrong with you for not getting over it, your feelings are a completely normal response to trauma...no matter what anyone else says. We're largely a misguided culture when it comes to grief. We are taught that this kind of pain shouldn't exist, and so when we see someone experiencing it, it's perceived as willful, bad behavior.
Take it day by day, and know that if you can find one thing that lifted your spirits today, you've succeeded. Choose your battles carefully. Know your limits. If you can't do something you want today, maybe you can tomorrow. This isn't a sprint, it's a marathon. You can get to a better place, it just may not be the one you envision. Be open to whatever that place is.
Hugs to us all,
Peri