Grief Revisited Through Happiness
Sort of mindlessly scrolling through Facebook posts one morning I was suddenly sobbing uncontrollably.
Two things happened to prompt this ‘min-meltdown’…what I call it when repressed grief grabs me by surprise.
I read a post by my daughter and I saw a beautiful picture of my oldest grandson, Mitchell.
My daughter’s post was her comments about an article she was sharing by a therapist titled, “How to Help a Grieving Friend”.
The photo, taken by Mitchell’s Uncle Greg, (gregherndon.com) conveyed uncontainable happiness he must have felt as the family was heading out for an afternoon of ‘extreme tubing’.
While ‘extreme tubing’ is not my choice for fun, I imagine it is an unforgettable and fun experience for many.
Certainly a peak experience for Mitchell.
You see, Mitchell has an undiagnosed autoimmune, neurological disorder, the symptoms of which began around the same time my husband’s health began to deteriorate in early 2012.
Initially starting as being off balance, with an unsteady gait, Mitchell’s situation progressed to the point where he could not walk, was confined to a wheelchair and had to deal with intense nerve pain in his legs and hands. He could no longer play basketball or wrestle with his brother, run up and down the stairs, play guitar or piano. He also experienced profound hearing loss.
He was no longer the Mitchell he had been.
His life had a major trajectory change. My daughter and son-in-law’s life changed drastically. His brother and sister’s life were impacted.
All of us were devastated. Due to my husbands deteriorating condition he and I were not able to spend our summer with the family as we usually did.
Everyone was in shock and grief stricken.
I relied on a few key friends to bare my utter anguish about what Mitchell and my daughter and son in law were going through along with my feelings about my husband’s situation and my feelings of helplessness.
I had to find new ways to support my daughter without physically being there to help.
I was in no shape to really help anyway.
Memories flashed through my mind and seemed to be let out of a place I had stored them, a place for all that has not been fully grieved. My Dad and his battle with cancer and death in 2000 from complications of treatment. Mitchell’s birth, just a week before my father’s death, then challenges for him after he was born, making the trip to Texas to help out, fresh in my grief from Dad’s death while also filled with joy over the birth of my first grandchild and also saddened by the challenges my daughter and the newborn had been facing.
I took the night shift feeding baby Mitchell. Holding him in my arms and gazing into his eyes, swearing I could see my fathers eyes reflected back at me. Silent tears streamed down my face.
I recalled the silent, and deeply held promise to Mitchell to always have his back, in memory of my father, who had no one as an ally in his childhood. No one who cared. Adults who not only were indifferent; one who emotionally abused and abandoned him and another who physically abused him.
I adore all three of my grandchildren. Each one is a connection to defining periods of my life. My second born grandson was delivered during the time period when my second husband and I were trying to salvage our marriage and my third grandchild, a girl, was adopted and brought ‘home’ in the early years of my remarriage to John. We all love our children and grandchildren in unique ways because THEY are unique! The grandchildren have been healing medicine for me. I would lay down my life for each of them.
Mitchell has been heroically dealing with the effects of this autoimmune disorder over the past 2 years. He has made progress. So, being able to participate in ‘extreme tubing’, I imagine, held an additional excitement for him!
Seeing the utter joy and happiness on his face created an opening for me to let go of a boatload of past grief.
No one knows your grief. Everyone’s response to change and loss and grief is unique…just as we are unique.
Below are my daughter’s comments that accompanied an excellent article she was sharing, titled, “How to Help a Grieving Friend: 11 Things to Do When You’re Not Sure What to Do”. (see link below for article) My daughter’s comments are what added to my healing ‘mini-meltdown’.
“I’ve shared a list like this before, but this one is really, really good. I’ve struggled with how to act/what to say when I’ve had friends grieving losses of their precious children in the past. These words are helpful too, though, for friends whose loved ones are ill or for parents caring for chronically ill children. I never realized until the last two years that grief doesn’t only occur when loved ones die. We have grieved over what our son’s life could have been and how our plans and dreams for him may or may not come to pass. We have grieved watching him struggle to achieve and overcome and walk again and learn to live his new/different life. We have grieved watching his peers grow and thrive. We have grieved for our other children and time lost with them due to extended hospital stays and our own physical and emotional exhaustion. Grief is so, so, so much more complicated than I ever imagined.”
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/megan-devine/death-and-dying_b_4329830.html
I hope you read the article. For a teaser, in case you think you don’t have time and will do it later, see a summary of #11 below and remember as you go about your day, in all your relationships, to BE LOVE.
#11 Love.
Above all, show your love. Show up. Say something. Do something. Be willing to stand beside the gaping hole that has opened in your friend’s life, without flinching or turning away. Be willing to not have any answers. Listen. Be there. Be present. Be a friend. Be love. Love is the thing that lasts.
Donna Harmony-Jones RN, BSN, HNB-BC, CHTP
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