When Grief Becomes Your Companion
What do you want when you are dying?
Care. Comfort. Connection.
Indigo “Indy” Carr had all three always, and certainly his last day. Probably more than most human beings.
At some point in our lives, we will need other people to take care of us and make our decisions for us. Our pets depend on us to do this every day.
He had the best doggy life, and a peaceful painless goodbye. His pet parents were there loving on him and so were his favorite vets. As he took one walk he had to take alone…….
That is when the real struggle begins for those of left behind.
We are taught to “move on,” a phrase I really hate. No, you can’t move on and leave your loved one behind. We are taught to run away from what people call negative emotions, yet they may not be negative at all, and even if they are, frankly, you need to feel them. Welcome to being human. Suppressing grief if the worst thing you can do. And most of us do it. Bury our grief along with the loved one, who is consigned to a burial plot, ashes in an urn, and photos.
I’m thinking the Navajo do a better job of this.
To them their ancestors are still alive. I like this idea.
My wife talks to her mom, who passed five years ago, all the time. She is sad she can’t have coffee with her again. I talk to Indy all the time, especially on a long walk on
one of the nice cool days he loved.
We are all struggling with mortality. On our recent trip to the Navajo Nation, a bus tour, several people on the bus really struggled with their mobility. Canes and walking poles were much
in use. Several people were taking their first trips since losing their spouses.
Between losing Indy and the trip to the Southwest—the two being especially connected as Deb and I are true empty nesters now—my whole experience of loss and mourning underwent a sea change this year.
In fact, I often hear people talk about mourning in relation to the ocean. Sometimes the waves wash over you. Sometimes it feels like you are sinking. Or drowning. And then there are times you are surfing, and times you are floating, enjoying the beauty and the sensations all around you. Maybe just bobbing up and down in the warm water.
This set of changes is also thanks to the Anderson Cooper CNN “All There Is” podcast which deals with his suppressed grief at losing his mother. Every show is deeply moving. Every show is full of insights from guests who talk about how they are dealing with their pain.
I’ve stopped thinking about mourning as a thing to try to get through, probably as rapidly as possible, something you get through and leave behind.
Now I look at grief as a companion.
It’s grief that connects you to your loved one.
Embrace the emotions.
Don’t rush your grief. There is no timetable.
But reach out for help. Talk to someone.
When my dad passed 10 years ago, and my mom five years ago, I really didn’t take time to mourn, busy as I was with jobs, kids, marriage, as well as lots of tasks and concerns I now see as trivial.
This summer I’ve reconnected with my brother and sister and college friends I’ve lost touch with. I’ve converted my loneliness to solitude. From a negative to a positive. Solitude at least gives you privacy, the ability to reflect and feel. You can learn to see these moments as holy.
Moving on, no. Moving forward, yes.