AnnC

Good heavens, Lori, when I read that you think you're an old timer at this, I thought you would say it had been YEARS! My grief counselor told me it's classic that at 6 to 9 months after the death, you start feeling REALLY bad, because that's about when the shock wears off. Then, for many people, the second year is worse, because it really hits you then what it means that the person is never coming back. Personally, I am having a tough time because new grief brings up old grief (my counselor says), and my dad died Dec. 7th. So it's less than three months, and I am grieving for him, but I feel more grief again for my ex-husband, who died 2 years and 8 months ago! All these things affect your time table. I also lost a step-grandmother and my mother's cousin at the same time (within days) of my dad. I was not as close to them, but still -- a lot of death. Plus, I had to have a root canal, and I threw out my hip. So I have been feeling very sorry for myself. I find it very hard to concentrate at work, too. Hang in there. It's a roller coaster. Ann

I took a class on the psychology of death and dying. The professor says he does not agree that "acceptance" is the goal. He says certainly no one is going to "accept" and say it's okay that their spouse or child or parent died! He suggests that "adjustment" is a better word. Over time, you adjust to the loss. Perhaps you could say you "accept" that the loss happened, and you can't change that fact. Although it was my ex-husband who died, I feel an enormous loss. I can't even imagine how devastating it would be had we still been married. And my dad died last month, leaving my mother alone after 56 years of marriage. It's so hard and so unfair. I am so sorry for your loss. I agree that love doesn't stop with death. I believe our loved ones' spirits live on and the love continues. I believe we will see them again. Ann

I don't know your mother's age, but in my mother's generation (born 1928), they don't generally have as much interest in "group therapy". I went through all that when my husband died. I have given my mother some of the handouts which list the symptoms of grief, and that they are normal, and she appreciates the information. But she declined the hospice's offers of counseling or groups. To see us, you would think my mother is doing better than I am. But she simply deals in a different way. In fact, some may think she is "doing worse" right now, because she has turned down some social offers and is staying home a lot. But that is because she is very tired (normal for grief, and also because of the stress of caring for my dad the last 10 months), and lack of motivation (also normal in grief.) I encouraged her to take it easy and decline invitations for the present if she wants. She's been saying to friends, Thank you very much, but I'm not quite up to that yet -- perhaps later. This seems to work -- they are understanding that she's worn down, but she isn't cutting off the relationship. I remember how I felt the same way when my husband died -- I didn't want to go anywhere or see anyone. I got a lot of crying and journaling done instead. Eventually (several months later), I became much more social. I am sure it will be similar for my mother. We each have our own pace, so if your mother seems to "become worse", I agree with Marie that it's because she is doing the real griefwork -- thus, making progress. Lots of people keep telling you to "keep busy" -- that's not always the best medicine for grief. Ann

Your concerns seem very normal to me. My dad died a month ago, and between my siblings and me, we have not left her alone since we had to have him hospitalized the day after Thanksgiving. I live 175 miles away, but my sister and brother live in the same city Mom does, and they have spent a lot of time with her, especially my brother (who lives alone). But my mother is now sounding like she kind of wants some time alone. She cooked for my dad all those months (before he got sick, they cooked together), and now she is cooking for my brother. She seems to look forward to a break. Plus, she knows she needs to learn to live alone. And, her and my Dad's best friends live literally around the corner. I feel worried about her too. But I can't save her from grieving, and I know she is a strong and smart woman, and she will get through it. She has her sister, too, who was widowed 9 years ago, and that is a support. She knows she can call me and talk anytime, too. And I am going down there this weekend. I really think our moms will be fine, and will adjust over time, but I know that feeling of worry. I'm just trying to be available and visit her often, without overdoing it. I guess I will just play it by ear as the weeks and months go by, and see what works best. I think your mom is lucky to have a loving concerned son like you! Ann

We can't "fix" someone's pain or grief, and nothing we say can take the grief away. I think it's being there that helps. I took a class on the psychology of grief and death here at the college where I work. The professor is well known in the field. When his mother died, he said one day he was overcome by grief in his office, and started crying. He cried for some time, then when he raised his head, his wife (who also works here at the college) was sitting in a chair next to him. He didn't hear her come in, she said nothing, she just sat there and let him cry. He said that was the best thing she could do -- just be there. And listen, if needed. He said sometimes trying to find just the "right" thing to say, or trying to console the person is actually not helpful. We need to talk about our grief and our lost loved one, and even well-meaning advice can shut that down. For example, think how you feel when you start to talk about your grief, or the one who died, and the person says kindly, "I'm sure you'll feel better soon." Well, you don't get to keep talking then. You feel obligated to feel better. But if the person were to say, "Tell me about her/him", then you get to talk. You get to honor the one who died by telling their story. And talking does help -- at least it helped me! Many of us need to talk, and have our grief accepted. As my grief counselor said, you have to go through the grief, but it helps if you don't have to go through it alone. Ann

Good point, Marty! I admit I had not thought of that. I know his name is on the box, but I don't think it says exactly what is IN the box -- maybe they would like to get an urn. Ann

My dad was diagnosed with esophageal cancer, stage 4, last February. The only symptom was that he had a little trouble swallowing. From then, he had radiation and chemo, lost his hair, his appetite, had nausea, weakness, balance problems, and his memory started to get bad. They kept up the chemo, but the cancer spread. It spread to his brain this fall, which it probably had already been earlier, thus causing much of the confusion, balance, and memory issues. He was finally in a wheelchair, and was falling out of bed because he would try to get up during the night, so we decided my mom could no longer care for him. We got him into the hospital on Thanksgiving, and they said the cancer had recurred in the original site, so that meant it was resistant to treatment. My mom felt awful that he had to suffer through all that treatment, and it really did hardly any good! But still, I figure they did their best -- you never know how it's going to work out. Anyway, they recommended hospice. I was happy with the hospice recommendation, and so was my mother, because we were both determined that we not make my dad suffer longer just to keep him with us. My sister had more trouble with it -- she was so focussed on fighting to the last moment that it was hard for her to change direction, as she saw it. But when my mother pointed out that continued treatment and resuscitation efforts would prolong his suffering, she got on board too. We found a beautiful 24 hour care facility just four minutes from my mother's house, and got hospice over there. My dad only lived 8 days after we moved him there, and we spent all of his awake hours with him. He was fine for four days, eating well and talking to us, but very tired (which had been increasingly true for months), and wanted to be sleeping most of the time. On the fifth day, we had to have hospice come because he suddenly had very bad pain. It took them about a day to get it under control, and after that he just slept, and slipped away in his sleep three days later -- he just stopped breathing. My brother was there. I am so happy he died like that instead of being hooked up to machines and tubes -- he would have hated that. Ann

My family almost always is cremated. They are all in a mausoleum (all in the same one!) where you can have either an urn in a glass doored little cabinet, or else a drawer with the name engraved. Also, some of my family members who were not cremated are in caskets in drawers in that mausoleum. That being said, I have no problems with ashes being scattered or kept at home, personally. My ex-husband's father wanted his ashes scattered, and my ex did that. But he himself said he didn't care what happened to his own cremains, since he believed that when the spirit is finished with the body, the body is irrelevant. Most people want to treat the remains with respect of course. But when my ex died, he had no family, so he left his estate to his best friends, for their young son and his education. They had him cremated, but did not know what to do with the cremains. Just a few weeks ago, one of them emailed me to say she looked at the cremains container and feels so guilty she hasn't scattered or done something with them. But I said, lots of people keep cremains in their house. I told her it doesn't bother me if she keeps them until she feels ready to do something else with them. Or even if she keeps them forever. I think it will be a step of letting go for her, for she thought of him like a brother, but it is her healing and not mine, and not for me to say what is best for her. Just my two cents. Ann

My situation is different. My ex-husband and I divorced in 1983 because he had come to realize he was gay. We maintained a friendship off and on for years, while dating others. He fell in love, but his partner died after only four years together. I had a long but rather uncommitted relationship with another man for about 11 years, then he dumped me. After these experiences, neither of us got involved in a serious relationship for many years. When we would be in touch to catch up on each other's lives, we encouraged each other to find someone, but neither of us did until my ex became terminally ill and we became much closer as friends. And, he did then fall in love, but died four months later. His boyfriend and I became friends and give each other a lot of mutual support. Yet since he died I feel widowed, despite the many years we were apart, despite the fact that we both had loved others. Now I can't imagine finding someone else, but no one understands, since we were divorced so long ago, they think I am a real loser and NEVER moved on. Well, maybe I didn't. Maybe I am a loser, but I can't help how I feel. Despite the divorce, he was in my life for 33 years, and I miss him so much I can't crawl out of bed some days. It gets slowly better, but still hurts so much. Ann

Well, all I can say is that when my ex-husband died, a man I deeply cared about but had been divorced from (because he was gay) for 20 years, I cried for two years. Every single day of those two years, I cried. Now it's more than 2 1/2 years, and I cry about every other day. The other days, I cry for my father, who died a month ago. This may sound odd, but I saw this episode of Monk, that TV show about the OCD detective. It was a rerun I had never seen. The police captain tells Monk it's seven years since Monk's wife died, and he should let go of it and move on. Monk says he can't, and the captain clearly thinks there's something wrong with him. Then, the police captain's wife is almost killed. He goes crazy with anger and fear. At the end, his wife survives, but he tells Monk he is sorry -- he gets it now. He knows if his wife had died, he would NEVER have gotten over it. It's so unusual for a TV show to admit this. I was really pleased. You DON'T get over it. You learn to live with it. This loss is part of your life now, and what time does is weave it into the tapestry of your life. You learn to live again, to find joy again, to engage with life again. But that loss, that grief, is forever part of you. Not every single moment any more. But you never, never forget your loved one -- why would you want to? Slowly, almost so you don't notice, the pain changes and softens, and you can live with it. But it doesn't leave you. Ann

My father was raised as a Christian Scientist, and (for those of you unfamiliar with that religion), they do not use medical treatment, but rely completely on prayer. When my dad found out he had cancer, he decided to have the full medical treatment, in spite of his upbringing: radiation, chemotherapy, and whatever drugs the doctor thought he should have. They kept promising "quality of life", but the treatments made him sick and weak, and he never recovered. In the last two weeks of his life, we got him into hospice at the recommendation of the doctor. He died at the age of 78 and 4 months. His father, my grandfather, relied completely on prayer for what we are pretty sure was also cancer. He did not restrict his food nor follow any special diet (he loved desserts), he took absolutely no medications of any kind (not even aspirin.) He had a lot of pain, and just prayed through it. He died at the age of 78 and 6 months. It's my belief that when it's your time, it's your time, no matter what drugs you take, or what food you eat. That time may be partially determined by genetics. Or maybe completely determined by God. Either way, I think whatever brings the person hope or comfort is the treatment that should be followed. As I said to my mother after we got my father into hospice, we have done everything humanly possible for him. The rest is out of our hands. Ann

I went to see a grief counselor six months after my ex-husband's death. She told me it is classic that you feel the worst at about 5-8 months after the loss, because the shock has worn off and you are really feeling it. I found that to be true, that was the worst time. I am still sad and still miss him after 2 1/2 years, but around 6 to 8 months was the worst time. As time goes on, my memories become clearer, and less painful. But right now is only three weeks since my father died, and those memories of his illness are the ones I have now. Because of my experience with my ex's death, I am hopeful the memories of my father as well and happy will take over in the months and years to come. Ann

I just wanted to share something on this subject. I recently attended a gathering of the grief counseling organization that was of such help to me during the year right after my ex-husband died. The director was resigning to take care of her new baby. We had a very nice party for her. One of the counselors stopped by my chair and asked me how I was doing. I said I was feeling depressed lately, but that I feel foolish about it, because it has been 2 1/2 years since his death, and I "should be over it by now", people say, and I don't know why I keep feeling this way. She looked me right in the eye and said, "It's because you are honest. Most people pretend they feel better, but you are honest about your feelings." So maybe that's it -- those of you who are grappling with your feelings this holiday season, when it seems like everyone around you has "moved on" -- maybe you're just more honest than they are capable of being. Maybe they are just afraid to confront or admit just how painful their feelings still are, so they are in denial. Ann

Thank you everyone for your sympathy. We are having a low-key Christmas, and I look forward to finally catching up on sleep. I seem to need to sleep a lot. I find I have another circumstance -- I get really angry. I know anger is normal in grief, but this is about disenfranchised grief. When my father was ill, I got lots of sympathy. I got time off from work to help out with him in his last two weeks plus the week for services, etc. I was involved in caring for him, in arranging his hospitalization, and in the funeral arrangements. I got lots of hugs, lots of cards, and my coworkers were supportive and gave me flowers. What's wrong with this, you ask? Nothing -- except when my ex-husband died 2 1/2 years ago, NONE of this happened! I did not get one card. No one expressed sympathy -- they were surprised I even cared. I did not have the opportunity to help him -- he lived far away, and we had wonderful talks by phone, but that was it. I had to beg for time off to go to his funeral, and my seat was in the back. So now, every time I get some wonderful caring gesture to commemorate and acknowledge my father's death, I am so angry, that in 2004 everyone just brushed aside my ex-husband's death, even though it was obvious I was devastated. I did not even realize the huge difference between "normal" grief and disenfranchised grief until now. I am sad and crying about my father, I miss him, but I am not torn to shreds and wanting to die like I felt about my ex. No wonder it has taken so long to get to any peace about losing my ex -- I am not even there yet, but already I have more peace around my father's death, because I was able to be involved and help and care for him, so I don't have regrets. I have what feels like thousands of regrets about my ex, wounds that I think may never heal. I suppose it is not all about disenfranchisement, it also has to do with my ex dying at 50, and my father at almost 80. You expect your parents will die before you do, but not a contemporary like a spouse or ex-spouse. Sorry to babble on and on, but it's weird how different the grief feels. Ann

My ex and I were divorced more than 20 years ago because he was gay, but we remained friends on and off during those years, and especially during the 19 months of his illness, we were very close friends. When he died, his heirs gave me my rings back. (He had given me his mother's wedding rings with his grandmother's diamond, so when we divorced I gave them back to him as family heirlooms.) I wear the wedding band on the second finger of my left hand and my engagement ring on the third finger of my right hand, and I plan to always wear them in memory of him. But my wedding finger is bare. It's interesting, because his boyfriend told me as far as he was concerned, I should wear the rings on my wedding finger, because he knew my ex loved me. But I feel the way I wear them is right for me, although it warmed my heart that his boyfriend is so generous to me. I have known widows and widowers who wore the rings on their right hands, left them on their left hands, or had them made into pendants to wear around their necks. Or just kept them in a jewelry box, or passed them on to a child. Whatever works for you is the right thing to do. Ann

I went home to my parents' for Thanksgiving (they live about 3 hours from me.) We had a nice Thanksgiving, but my dad was weaker than he had been a month earlier. Last February, he had been diagnosed with Stage 4 esophageal cancer. They treated him with radiation and chemotherapy. It really wiped him out, and at first he couldn't eat and was miserable. His eating improved, but he lost energy and started to lose the feeling in his hands and feet. His balance began to suffer, and his memory started to get worse. They found then that the cancer had spread to his brain, so they started radiation to his head -- and he got worse and worse. When I went down Nov. 22nd, my brother had just gotten a wheelchair for Dad, and he was having trouble getting in and out of it onto the chair or toilet. My mom had been caring for him all nine months, but isn't strong enough to lift him, of course. During the night on Thanksgiving, he fell out of bed with a crash that woke all of us (my brother and I stayed over.) My mom couldnt' get him up, so my brother did, and we had to clean him up and wash his clothes (because he didn't get to the bathroom). We realized my mom could no longer cope with all this. The next day we took him to the ER. They kept him in the hospital for five days while they tried to figure out why he was deteriorating, and we rushed around all during Thanksgiving weekend to find a NICE 24-hour care place for him. We found one that was really nice and close to my mother's house. But meanwhile, they found that the original tumor had returned, which the doctor said meant the cancer was resistant to treatment, and he recommended hospice. We got Dad into the care facility, and got hospice involved. He had a few good days, then started having major pain. It took a day or two, but they finally got him on enough morphine to take care of the pain, but it was so much morphine that he was unconscious. He died 8 days after he was moved to the facility, on Dec. 7th. I feel bad for my mother, who was married to him for 56 years. I had a difficult relationship with him. He was raised in a cold, unloving home, and my mother and his grandmother were the only love he had. He was often difficult because of this, and drank heavily. But at the end, he was so sweet and accepting of his illness, and so patient, so unlike how he was before. I struggled to say I loved him, and I didn't say it in so many words, but I spent three weeks there, helping with everything and seeing him every day, and on the last day he was conscious, I kissed him and he smiled and made a happy sound. I hope he knew I loved him, even if I found it hard to tell him? I'm so exhausted after days and days of stress, rushing around to take care of him and my mother, to find a place for him before the hospital kicked him out, to get things set up, to make sure he was medicated appropriately, to try to make sure he ate, that he didnt have pain, that my mother got some sleep, on and on. Then the funeral arrangements, calling all the friends and relatives. Then meeting with bankers, and all the guilt of inheriting money from him, of profiting from his death. It is all so awful. I sleep nine hours a night yet yawn my way through work. We had to identify his body, which was weird! They apparently didn't want to cremate the wrong person. It was so weird a feeling, to see him in the funeral home. My mother seemed to derive peace from seeing HIM at peace, but I just had this weird feeling in my stomach. I'd never seen a dead body before. It seemed creepy, yet he just looked asleep. But unmoving. I just feel overwhelmed. It seems like six months since we put him in the hospital, but it was less than a month ago, and now he's been gone two weeks. I suppose I am still numb, but I don't know what I'm feeling. Just a weird feeling, of relief that the other shoe finally dropped and he's no longer suffering, yet sadness that he is gone, and worry over my mother and just other floating unnamed feelings I can't catch hold of. Sorry to ramble on. Thanks for listening/reading. Ann

My grief counselor told me that is classic, that you realize around 5 to 8 months later that the shock has worn off and you realize the person is not coming back. It doesn't help the pain, but you are reacting normally, at least. After 2 1/2 years, I still have my bad days, but not as often. Ann

Can anyone else do Thanksgiving instead of you? It is very natural to feel so overwhelmed and exhausted that you don't want to talk to anyone and don't have energy to do much but get out of bed. Do anything you can to reduce your stress. If the holidays have to be less elaborate, so be it. Or maybe you can all go out to dinner, a lot of people do that for Thanksgiving, and it's so much less work, but the kids still get the celebration. The holidays are the hardest after a loss, and anything you can do to give yourself less stress will help. I know the first holidays I was snapping at people at work and just sitting on the couch at home. I wasn't going to do anything for Christmas, but then I bought a wreath and put it on the wall. I went to my parents' for Christmas, so I didn't do much at all, just bought presents. See if anyone will help you or you can do something that's less work. Ann

I believe we all feel guilt when someone we love dies. My ex and I became very close when he was ill. But as the months went on, I would call to talk to him and would find he'd been in the hospital again, in a two-week coma, all kinds of difficulties. He lived in Georgia, and I live in Seattle, so I couldn't go see him every time he was hospitalized (he had liver disease and needed a transplant.) It became so frightening I began to put off calling him, feeling afraid of what I would hear. Then his friend called and he had died, and I felt so awful, so guilty that I had ever put off talking to him. It's so hard to forgive ourselves. His friends say he wouldn't even need to forgive me, that he wouldn't think I had even done anything that needed forgiveness, but I feel like I let him down. I really like that quote from Elizabeth Kubler-Ross -- I found it very comforting. I do think that self-punishment and guilt is one of the hardest things about grief. Ann

On the first bitthday I had after my ex-husband died, I cried all day long, because I was getting older and he wasn't. It just seemed so wrong. I think we all feel that pain that the world is moving on without our loved one. It really hurts. So I am not surprised that your birthday would upset you. Holidays and birthdays and anniversaries are usually the times that get us crying again, even years later. It's normal -- not fun, but normal. Ann

I have a lot of trouble crying in front of others. It's my childhood conditioning -- my father hates to see anyone cry, so would yell at us when we did. He even yelled at my mother when she cried when her own mother died. I cry just fine by myself, but even had trouble crying in front of my grief counselor. It's just the way it is -- I just make sure I cry when I need to, if not in public, then when I get home. It's not healing for me to cry if I'm all embarrassed about it. My ex-husband was about the only one I felt okay about crying in front of, and he's the one who died. Ann

That's lovely, Marty. The ancient Irish and Scottish also believed the veil between the worlds is thin on that day. I also participate on a web site about after-death communication, and have for over a year. Last year a Mexican-American lady on that site told us about Los Dias de los Muertos, the Mexican Day of the Dead, Nov. 1-2. They set up an altar with marigolds, pictures of the deceased, other flowers, fruit, food, candy, candles. It's a celebration based in indigenous beliefs melded to Catholicism that the Spanish brought. They believe it is a celebration of the cycle of life-death-rebirth, that their relatives/friends return to visit. So ever since this lady told me about the day, I have set up a table with pictures of all my deceased relatives and my ex-husband, with a pot of marigolds, candles, candy, fruit, and welcomed them to visit me. It makes me feel good to have an annual ritual to remember all those who have passed on. Ann

Maybe you're just going over it again subconsciously? I had several dreams for a few months where my ex-husband was ill, and I took care of him. I live on the other side of the country from where he lived (seattle/Atlanta), and I wanted to help him but couldn't get the time off. He told me not to worry about it, he had the help he needed from friends, but he loved the long phone conversations we had. But it bothered me a lot after he died that I wasn't there. I felt like the dreams gave me the chance to care for him the way I wanted to. I felt like his spirit was there, giving me that chance. Then one night I dreamed he called me and told me to meet him at the beach, and I got there and hugged him. It was so real I could feel him, smell his clean cotton shirt -- so real. And he told me he is well and happy now, and danced around to show he no longer had the weakness and pain he had during his illness. It was a wonderful dream, and I pretty much stopped dreaming about him as sick after that. Ann

I was not there when my ex-husband died, but his best friend was, and she says that image stayed with her for a long time. Now, after 2 1/2 years, she says slowly the happy memories are replacing that last one, and the memory of how weak and sick he looked when she took him to the ER. I wanted to be there to be comfort for him, but he was shortly in a coma, and I know he didnt' tell me he was going into the hospital because he didn't want me to remember him that way. And I have to say I'm rather grateful not to have that image. Ann

Thanks for saying that. I cried every day for two years. Now at 2 1/2, I cry most days, but not all. I expect I'll never totally get over it -- just get more used to it. Ann