Trying to understand grief

I hesitate to even begin to talk on the subject of grief.  Really, how can we ever truly understand it or try to explain it? Though my mom was killed over a year ago, the trauma of her death is still with me every single day.  I’ve got things that I’m dealing with that are altogether different than when our son Benjamin died of cancer or when my dad died suddenly of a massive heart attack 8 years ago.  So my journey through grief this time is teaching me a whole new side of it.

As a whole, grief is something that isn’t talked about very much and because of that, many people are ignorant about a lot of things regarding it.  If you did a study on grief, you would find many different thoughts on it, because we are all different and our grieving process will be different for each of us.

So today you get to see my side of the story!  My personal thoughts…and complaints…and questions…about this complex subject of grieving.  As I was scribbling my thoughts down in the van on our way to Dave’s funeral, I had to admit to Joe that it would be so easy for me to get “in the flesh” and rant and rave, as I wrote on this topic.  My experiences with grief has…well, caused me grief!!  And because of that, it would be easy for me to “vent” here.  But that would be unprofitable and the whole purpose of me writing my thoughts here today is to help – not vent!

One of the hardest things I’ve dealt with in grieving is how people try to compare or “one up you” in the “tragedy/grieving department.”  Yes, seriously.  Like we’re in some sort of competition and one wants to be better – or should I say, worse – than the other.

We cannot – and we should not – ever compare grief.  Ever.

Our son Benjamin died of cancer at the age of 5 after suffering for 1-1/2 years, with multiple surgeries, months in the hospital, living with pain every single day for 1-1/2 years…and again, he was only 4 when this all started.  A few months after he died I had someone tell me that at least I knew my son was dying and I could prepare myself for his eminent death (her sister’s young son was killed in a tragic farming accident).  That comment flabbergasted me…I could hardly believe she was actually saying that to my face.  I would never say that watching your very young son suffer and die was easy for anyone…but neither would having a child die in a tragic accident!   (I honestly don’t know why in the world people even let words like that escape their lips…but, since I don’t want to vent here, I’ll leave it at that.  sigh.)

Did you know that making comments like that to folks that have lost a loved one is not a good idea?  At all.  Ever.  After Benjamin died someone said to me that they don’t know what to say to someone that’s just lost a loved one, so they just say whatever comes to their mind…something…anything, was better than nothing.  Ummm, no.  Absolutely not.

If I’ve heard it once, I’ve heard it many times…people who have lost loved ones say that they would love to travel and hold conferences teaching people what to do/say and not do/say when helping someone through the grieving process.  Why?  Because too many folks out there just don’t have a clue.  They don’t have a clue that what they are saying is very hurtful and should have never been said.  Ever.  The end.  Amen.

One mom, who’s son died of cancer, put it this way…

“I began to see how uncomfortable people became at the thought of dying young and how little people think before they speak.  People would say things to make themselves feel better even though they didn’t serve us any purpose.  I’d often fantasized about writing a tutorial entitled ‘What Not to Say.’  It would be very basic, just a couple of hard and fast rules:

1)  If the sentence you are about to say starts with the phrase ‘have you’ or ‘you should,’ don’t say it.

2)  Unless you have had a child with the same disease and you’ve been through the exact same thing, don’t offer advice.

3)  Don’t tell me about everyone you have ever known who has either battled cancer or died from cancer.

4)  Don’t tell me to be grateful.

The words I found most comforting were from those people who said it like it was, something like: ‘Whoa, your son has cancer?  Well, that just totally sucks.’  No gushy stuff, no advice, just straight up naming it and acknowledging how awful it was…

One of the kindest and most thoughtful things anyone ever said was the question my best friend, Anne, asked.  ‘So what do you want?  Do you want me to call you every day and stop by and visit?  Or do you want to be left alone until you get through it?’  she asked.  ‘If it were me, I’d want to tuck myself away for a year and come out when its over.’  ‘Don’t you dare leave me alone,’ I answered.  ‘There’s no way I can do this thing without talking my way through it.’  She called me almost every day.”

~taken from the book “Fly a Little Higher” by Laura Sobiech

I really do want to feel “kind and gentle and sweet” when I talk about this subject but, honestly folks, I get pretty upset when these things come up – whether it’s said to me personally, or I hear it’s been said to someone else thats grieving; I honestly get upset – mad, actually – and I have to fight back the words that want to come out of my mouth.  ( I know my husband is especially glad when I show great self-control in this area!! lol)

Losing my mom has affected me physically and emotionally more than losing my son.  Now before you gasp and ask me what kind of mother I am anyway (!!), let me explain.

First, notice that I said that it’s affected me more…I didn’t say it was harder losing my mom than my son.  My reactions and the fall-out have just been different.

I was only 30 when my son died and I was 50 when my mom was killed.  I think aging hormones have played a big part this time.

My son was sick and though we were praying and hopeful that he would live, we knew that the cancer could take his life.

One day I was texting my mom, and she was alive, healthy and well, and the next day my brother was calling me with the shocking news that she was dead.

Benjamin died peacefully in his sleep at home in his bed.  I was able to hold his hand and kiss him good-bye as I knelt beside his bed and wept.

The last time I saw my mom was about 4-1/2 months earlier when she and Carl came up for a visit, and because their accident was so horrible, we were never able to view either my mom or Carl.  One day I’m texting my mom, the next day she’s gone.  For months and months after she died, I would find myself laying in bed or walking through the house and I would literally stop and say to myself, “My mom is dead.”  There was no good bye.  No last viewing.  The reality of it is taking a long time to sink in…

It’s not that I loved my mom more or miss her more than Benjamin.  The circumstances and affects on me were both so different.

{As I write this, I stop and wonder why its even necessary to write it.  I wonder what makes someone tell me that the death of their loved one was harder on them than the death of my loved one.  Maybe I’ll never have an answer for this…but I can’t help but wonder what makes folks say what they do.}

Have you ever cried with someone that is grieving?  If you have, I think you’re part of a very small group of amazing people.  The Bible tells us to weep with those that weep, so we should.

If you find you can’t cry, at least let them cry.  Yes, let them cry.  We all know that crying is part of grieving, but its amazing to me how uncomfortable people get when you start crying. They often apologize and if they safely can, they turn and quickly leave.  If a person wants to talk…and cry…about their loved one that’s passed away – let them!  Hug them, hold their hand, tell them you’re sorry…but please let them cry.

We received many sympathy cards after Benjamin died, but one in particular stands out to me, even after all these years…the lady wrote several things, but when I read that she wept with me when she found out that Ben had died, that meant so, so much.  While others offered words, her action spoke to my heart.  And the same with the man at security in the airport when I was going to my mom and Carl’s funeral…when he asked if my trip was business or pleasure, and I told him what had happened, his head jerked up and with tears in his eyes, he touched my arm and asked me if I was going to be ok, then handed me some tissues.  Spontaneous compassion.  It did my hurting heart good.  And it sure beats hearing, “Well, at least they went together” or “At least they didn’t suffer.”   Oh my…I’ve heard this over and over again since my mom died.  (insert picture of me throwing my hands in the air, turning around and running away, yelling, ” Please Stoooop!!!”  Yes, I’m that spiritual.  sigh)

Not only is weeping with them that weep a good idea (or at least letting them know you’re ok with it if they need to cry), did you know that the person that’s lost a loved one usually wants to talk about the one that’s passed away?  I know I do.  But I’ve also come to realize that most folks become very uncomfortable when you start talking about your loved one.  Maybe you are uncomfortable and you don’t know what to say, but that’s ok, too.  When someone loses a loved one, what they need to hear the most is that you care and that you’re there for them.  Maybe that means a phone call now and then asking them how they’re doing.  And when you call, remember that they really don’t need to hear your words of wisdom…just listen.  You just being there means a lot…really, it does.

Like I said at the beginning, I’m learning a whole different side to this grieving thing.  No one will ever know all the answers or truly understand it, but it would be a big step if you are willing to try.

I was talking with a friend who lost her mom not long after my mom had died.  I was sharing with her some of my frustration with people’s reactions and heartless words.  She quietly told me that she too was in that group of people…until her mom passed away.  She said before then she had no idea what it meant, or how it felt to lose a loved one.  In other words, I think she was gently saying, “Mitzi, they just don’t know any better.”  And maybe she was saying that we’ve learned things in this “school of grieving” that others won’t learn until they have to take the class.

I know my kids have also learned through these tough “classes.”  No one chooses to go through them, but when you do, its good to learn what you can.

We know a family that had a teenage son that had a simple medical problem that got out of hand and it caused an infection that medicine couldn’t control, and it took his life.  We don’t see this family often, as we live hours apart, but we ended up seeing them several months after their son/brother passed away.  As my girls were standing around visiting with the sister, they brought up Craig and you know what happened?  She talked and talked and talked about him.  Not just about his short sickness, but about him.  You could tell she wanted to talk about him.  A lot!

I was also able to visit with the mom and we talked about her son.  I can’t say for sure about this momma (but I think I can)…after I’ve lost a loved one and people avoid talking about them, that really hurts and causes my heart to ache.  A whole lot.

Another family we know lost a baby (she was stillborn).  When we first met them, their oldest (but still young) daughter was chatting away about her sister Lily that was in heaven.  When I finally got to ask the momma about sweet Lily, she was more than happy to share with me the short little life of her precious daughter.  She even brought out the little pink box that the hospital gave her…it held pictures of little Lily and pictures of her tiny hands and feet.  And in the box was the sweet little hat and clothes and blanket she was wearing in the pictures.  I think because of losing a child, I didn’t find it uncomfortable as she shared these things with me.

Maybe you just shivered and thought, “oh, I could never do that!”  Are you willing to try?  Are you willing to ask God to help you do it if you need to?  That’s a start.  A great start, actually!

I think I can safely say, most of the time its not really in what you say, it’s just you being there and showing some kindness and compassion.

The definition of compassion is – 

A suffering with another; painful sympathy; a sensation of sorrow excited by the distress or misfortunes of another; pity.  

And kindness is –

Act of good will; any act of benevolence which promotes the happiness or welfare of others; attentions to the wants of others.

Really, its not hard.  Perhaps it does mean stepping out of your comfort zone and reaching out to someone, but you’ll be happy you did.  Wouldn’t you want someone to do it for you?  Hmmm, isn’t there a verse or two on that??  Let’s see…

Matthew 7:12 – Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them:

Luke 6:31 – And as ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise.

Mark 12:31 – And the second is like, namely this, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. There is none other commandment greater than these.

And if its a commandment from God, don’t you think its pretty important?

This past Sunday was Mother’s Day.  My second one without my Momma.  (I had some pictures in a file on my computer that I wanted to use for a special post about my mom…but it didn’t happen.  Not this year.  Maybe next year.)  You know what a couple of ladies in my church did for me?  They each wrote a real sweet note to let me know that they were thinking about me and praying for me.  (One even slipped in a gift card for my favorite coffee shop…so sweet!).  Hugs and tears.  Texts to let me know they’re thinking about me.  Loving others and showing true compassion.

Now it’s my turn again.  A dear friend of mine had her husband die of a heart attack right before her eyes last October.  I try to call her every few weeks, just to let her know I’m thinking about her.  I don’t have any great words to say, but I know I don’t need to.  She cries and I listen.  Her two daughters have told me what a blessing and encouragement my calls have been to their momma…and to them.  And to be honest with you all, my first phone call to her, I was nervous, wondering what I should say…or not say…  Would it be awkward??  But after that first call, it’s much easier now; knowing that just calling her means a lot to her and she said she’s always glad when I do.

So forgive me of my frustration with others, as I know I still have a whole lot to learn, too.  Lets learn together, shall we?

Tell me…what have you learned in your journey through grief?