Grief Intelligence: A Primer


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For the past 25 years, I have worked with thousands of grievers. I have sat with widows and widowers, the young and the old. I have offered tissues to bereaved parents in their inconsolable grief. I have normalized, educated, listened to and championed those grievers who, through tremendous pain, still engaged with life.

In the decades since my book Transcending Loss was published, the grieving process has not changed. As I interact with grievers from around the world, I am reminded of the universality of grief. And though each person has their own journey, still they share many common experiences.

Yet, still, I see and hear so much misinformation and confusion around grief. Principally, this comes from the widely-held myths that grief should be easy, that grief should be short, that grief has closure, that people should get on with their lives unchanged and that ongoing connection with the deceased is somehow pathological.

So, in trying to set the record straight, I’m offering seven principles in this primer on grief intelligence.

Most people don’t learn these lessons until life thrusts them onto the roller coaster of major loss. However, if we can get the word out, then perhaps a new generation of individuals will feel more supported and understood when it is their time to grieve.

1. Grief is a normal reaction — Grief is the natural emotional and physical response to the death of a loved one. Although our society desperately wants to avoid the messiness of deep sorrow, there is no way out except through the pain. Typical numbing techniques such as medications, alcohol and food are only temporary distractions to dull the pain.

Letting oneself grieve by going directly into the pain — in manageable doses over a long period of time — is healing. Avoiding the pain simply forces it to go deep into the heart where it subtly affects emotional and physical health.

2. Grief is hard work — Grief isn’t easy and it isn’t pretty. It involves tears, sleepless nights, pain, sorrow and a heartache that knocks you to your knees. It can be hard to concentrate, hard to think clearly, hard to read and easy to forget all the details of life that everyone else seems to remember. Grievers frequently feel that they’re going crazy and they sometimes wish to die. This doesn’t mean that they’re actively suicidal, it just means that they’re grieving.

3. Grief doesn’t offer closure — Closure is an idea that we like because we want to tie up our emotional messes with a bow and put them in the back of a closet. But grief refuses to play this game. Grief tends towards healing not closure. The funeral can be healing, visiting a gravesite can be healing, performing rituals, writing in journals and making pilgrimages can be personally meaningful and healing. But they will not bring closure. Closure is relevant to business deals but not to the human heart.

4. Grief is lifelong — Although we all want quick fixes and short-term solutions, grief won’t accommodate us. Many people want grief to be over in a few weeks or a few months and certainly within a year. And yet, many grievers know that the second year is actually harder than the first. Why Because the shock has worn off and the reality of the pain has truly sunk in.

I let grievers know that the impact of grief is lifelong just as the influence of love is also lifelong. No matter how many years go by, there will be occasional days when grief bursts through with a certain rawness. There will be days, even decades later, when sadness crosses over like a storm cloud. And likely, every day going forward will involve some memory, some connection to missing the beloved.

5. Grievers need to stay connected to the deceased — While some might find it odd or uncomfortable to keep talking about a loved one after they have passed, or find it disconcerting to see photographs of those who have died, it is healthy to keep the connection alive. My heart goes out to a generation or more of grievers who were told to cut their ties to their deceased loved ones, to move on, almost as if they had never existed. Such unwitting cruelty! It is important to honor the birthdays and departure days of deceased loved ones. Their physical presence may be gone, but they remain in relationship to the griever in a new way beyond form, a way based in spirit and love.

6. Grievers are changed forever — Those who expect grievers to eventually get back to their old selves, will be quite disappointed. Grief, like all major life experiences, changes a person irrevocably. People don’t remain unchanged after getting an education, getting married, having a baby, getting divorced or changing careers. Grief, too, adds to the compost mixture of life, creating rich and fertile soil. It teaches about living and dying, about pain and love and about impermanence. While some people are changed by grief in a way that makes them bitter and shut down, it is also possible to use grief as a springboard for compassion, wisdom, and open-heartedness.

7. Grievers can choose transcendence — Transcendence has to do with gaining perspective, seeing in a new way and holding pain in a larger context. Seeing one’s grief from a larger perspective allows it to be bearable and gives it meaning. For one, transcendence might mean reaching out to those who suffer. For another, it might mean giving to a cause that will benefit others. Grievers who choose transcendence recognize that they are not alone, that they share a common human condition, and that they are amongst so many who have experienced love and loss. They use their pain in a way that touches others. The pain is still there, of course, but it is transformed.

So I invite you to reflect on these grief principles, how they might be true for you and how they might be true for someone you know and love. Share and share again so that we might spread grief intelligence far and wide. Perhaps we can effect a change so widespread that grievers will know what to expect. Hopefully, we all can be comforted, in small ways, by that knowledge

Reblogged from http://www.huffingtonpost.com/ashley-davis-bush/dealing-with-grief_b_3716013.html

 

I am Vic’s mother!


Child-loss is a black hole of grief and sorrow in which every emotion is compressed and compounded.   It is an inescapable vortex.  

Vic was the centre of my emotional cosmos. My world revolved around my precious child. Vic was my past, my present and my future. When she died it felt as if my life ended.


For the first time in 38 years I cried. I truly cried and called to the heavens. It was as if 38 years of pent up fear, anguish and stress was released. I screamed, I sobbed, I wept… Did you know that there is a difference between weeping and sobbing? I clung to my child. I stroked her hair. I washed her little body and dressed her in her favourite pyjamas. I sprayed her favourite perfume on her.

Grief is a strange journey.

When I embarked on the Journey of Mourning it was a strange road. I had lost people I love dearly before. My mom, my dad, BFF’s, colleagues and family had died. Of course grandparents too… But I had never lost a child. This is a road I had never travelled before. I did not only lose my precious child but I also lost the person I was.

Within a millisecond I ceased to be a mother. Wait – I became a “bereaved mother.” The hope I had clung to for 36.5 years was lost! The fight in me was gone.

The second my child’s soul left her body my heart shattered into a million pieces.

The hardest thing I had to do in my life was say goodbye to my child; listening to her breathing getting weaker and weaker…. knowing that her last breath was so close.


Then I thought nothing would match my pain watching my precious baby leave our home for the last time in a plastic sheet on a gurney until I had to stand and watch the hearse drive away with my precious, precious child lying in a cold hard coffin – her destination a crematorium!

No matter how prepared I thought I was for Vic’s death – I wasn’t! People seem to think I should be grateful Vic is dead. Just as people did not want to listen to me talking about Vic’s terrible suffering they now don’t want me to talk about Vic after she died. They ask you how you are doing hoping you won’t be honest and answer…

It is almost surreal to see that the world has carried on with its business; that the heavens are unchanged; that life has continued. I look at myself and I think that people that don’t know me would never guess that my life ended 6 months ago… People pat me on the back and say “You are so strong…”

We are nearing Vic’s 6 month anniversary and I have learnt to breathe again. I have learnt to stay strong for the boys. My life will and must mirror Vic’s strength and courage. Her dream of a Hospice will continue to live on in me…Her goodness will continue to spread to the community and the world!

I raised Vic to be strong, courageous, and brave. Vic taught her sons that she is their mother not their excuse…


I am Vic’s mother – she is my reason; not my excuse!


I miss being Mommy


My beautiful Vic
My beautiful Vic

I so desperately need to articulate my pain and yet I cannot.  Words are inadequate and empty.  There are not enough adjectives in the english language to describe my indescribable pain and longing for my precious child.  Yet, my cyberfriend Judy has articulated my emotions pretty accurately.  So in the absence of my own words I am posting Judy’s email to me.

Thank you Judy.  Your words do help.  What a horrible area to be experienced in – the world of grief….  

Judy is right.  I just want my child to be with me.  I miss her more than I ever imagined I would.  The void is like a never-ending well of despair.  I miss being a grandmother and I miss being a Mommy….I am only a back-up mother now.  An empty vessel.

Thank you all for your love and support.

Tersia,

I am not telling you that I know how you feel. I cannot know. Grief was so isolating and lonely that even when I had people caring about me, I remember my mind screaming that I would give anything to have my child back! It was such a horror. I could not concentrate upon anything. I could not read a single paragraph and know what I had just read. I could not sleep. I did not want to be alive anymore.
 
You are so supported – I see message after message flying across cyberspace to hug you. I see a lot of messages telling you to stay strong. I think what is typical for being a caregiver is the constant suppression of emotion. You were Vic’s caregiver for decades. You learned how it was important for you to be strong.  I see how concerned you are about staying strong for everyone around you. I remember when I decided I wasn’t able to be strong anymore.
 
So staying strong might pose a conflict for you. At some point, all of your emotions might start to surface. It is terrifying. I was tired of hearing how my child’s suffering was over. Inside I screamed, “Why did my child ever have to suffer!!?” That was the beginning of my feeling very angry. Anger was a difficult place to be in, but it is a stage of grief. Men and woman grieve very differently, too. Navigating that was more than I could handle, so I retreated to be with other grieving mothers. 
 
I’m wondering if my words are helpful. I guess I just want you to know that you are on a road that you will survive. You know that. Life will never be the same. You know that. Some people cannot enter the doorway of grief. They succumb to it. You have entered the doorway and are plunging ahead into the darkness. It hurts so much!
 
Love, Judy