MartyT

Kim, dear ~ We are here for you, and will continue to be here for you on August 20 and beyond, just as you are here for us.

Although this article written by Margaret Gerner appeared in print quite some time ago (in the November / December 1987 issue of Bereavement Magazine), it is still well worth reading: Alcohol, Not the Answer We are frequently cautioned about the dangers of mixing alcohol and gasoline. We are frequently cautioned about the dangers of mixing alcohol and drugs. We are seldom cautioned about the danger of mixing alcohol and drugs with grief. It should be clearly understood at the outset that alcohol is just as much a drug as any chemical compound or prescribed medication. The added subtlety in alcohol is the ease with which it is obtained, and the acceptability of its use in our society. It requires no prescription and no one is overseeing its use or controlling its consumption. There is little danger that the person who has never had a problem with alcohol or drugs prior to their bereavement will fall victim to its use afterward. But for the person who has an established drinking pattern, or is inclined to deal with life's problems chemically, it is a time to be especially alert and guarded. The shrieking pain of early grief tempts the bereaved to escape in any way they can - to shut out the terrible reality of their loss, even for a short time. Usually they are not eating properly or sleeping well; and there are sometimes physical ailments such as stomach or chest pains, headaches, chronic fatigue and mood swings. A physician might prescribe medication for the symptoms that are presented without ever being told that the patient is grieving a serious loss. Or, if the doctor can find no physical cause for the distress, the chemically dependent griever may turn to relief from a "friend in a bottle." Obviously, neither way is fair to the doctor, nor helpful to the patient. If the doctor has not been informed of the loss by the patient, family or friends can and should intercede. Depression is common following loss. Alcohol is a central nervous system depressant, and it can only magnify such symptoms of depression as sleeplessness, chronic fatigue, nervousness, abdominal symptoms and the inability to concentrate. Alcohol will increase the intensity of any of these conditions. If there has been a pattern of drinking or drug use prior to the grief, it is almost certain that the drug/alcohol problem will escalate. Getting to sleep is difficult for most grieving people, and for some there may be a temptation to use alcohol to help induce sleep, but there is no worse drug to choose. Alcohol actually causes insomnia. A tolerance is created and more is needed each time to produce the same effect. Finally, sleeping pills may look like the answer, but again the tolerance level is soon reached, and the combination of the two drugs is extremely dangerous - sometimes even fatal. Sleeplessness is an extremely unpleasant side effect of grief, but it is temporary and will ease over time. Addiction to alcohol or drugs will not. Sometimes alcohol masquerades as a sedative. To the restless, nervous, fatigued griever this can be an appealing alternative. However, in a few hours, the sedating effect is gone and the "jitters" are worse than before. The danger is increased that tranquilizers will be added to sustain the effect, and this combination can be lethal. The consumption of alcohol increases stomach distress and reduces an already diminished appetite, which can cause malnutrition and vitamin deficiencies and increase grief-symptoms dramatically. Concentration is always difficult in bereavement, but the chemically-dependant griever has an added problem. While drinking, the mind is slowed by the depressant effect of the alcohol, but when the effect begins to wear away, there is a hyperkinetic reaction. The body may tremble, the heart and mind are racing, concentration is impossible; and there is a terrible temptation to start the cycle all over again. But alcohol will not relieve grief for more than a few hours, and it takes more and more to sustain the effects. The price the griever pays for that relief is too great! There is no problem that alcohol will not make worse. There is no exact amount of alcohol that can define the difference between harmful drinking, and a couple of drinks that make one comfortable for a short time. Everyone is affected in a different way. Body structure plays an important role. A larger person can consume more alcohol than a small-framed person before experiencing the same effect. Individual metabolism, emotional condition and whether the alcohol is taken in conjunction with other drugs are also important factors. Frequency of drinking is less important than the role that alcohol plays in the life of the grief victim. A simple test is to assess the feeling of NEED for alcohol, rather than how much or how often. If the situation can be assessed objectively and honestly, and it is clear that there is a dependency on alcohol (actually the drug ethanol), it is clearly necessary to seek professional help. Consult a doctor, a specialized treatment facility or Alcoholics Anonymous (in the white pages of the phone book). For the drinker who is also grieving, there may appear to be no hope, but it is never too late. People do not die from grief, but they can die from alcoholism. It is important to remember that grief over the death of a loved one is an excuse for drinking - not a reason for it. Families often contribute to a drinker's problem with the excuse that "they hurt so much," without realizing they are, in a real sense, giving the person permission to drink. Family members, in turn, may be blamed for everything from the loved one's death to problems in the family. They may be accused of not caring or of placing additional burdens on the drinker. Eventually, the family begins to believe this is true. Because the drinker must find fault in order to justify and enlarge the excuse for drinking, others must be blamed, and soon the family is controlled by the alcoholic. If families are to escape the trap of becoming slaves to the drinker, they must learn to defend themselves against the manipulations of the drinking person. This requires outside help, often available through the National Council on Alcoholism or the Alanon Family Groups. Some treatment centers have special programs for the family of the alcoholic too. A family can be destroyed by grief. A family can be destroyed by a drinking member. Put the two together and there is an almost certain guarantee that the family WILL be destroyed by the combination. The drinking will not magically end when grief is "over." Problem drinking can only get worse. If a family member is drinking, look carefully at the effect it is having on everyone. Don't let one problem compound another. Seek help.

Teny, dear ~ You said, I wanted soo much for YIANY to be here when I return hold my hand and tell him all about my fathers family. Just like Yiany, who is always with you, upon your return from your father's island, your friends from far away will be here, holding you close and wanting very much to hear all about your trip. When you go to that island on Sunday, Teny, carry Yiany's heart and all of our hearts with you, in your own heart. I am sending you a poem I love, by ee cummings: I Carry Your Heart with Me i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)i am never without it(anywhere i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling) i fear no fate(for you are my fate, my sweet)i want no world(for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping stars apart i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

EJN, I'm so sorry that you're feeling so isolated and alone ~ and so unsupported, misunderstood and misjudged by your best friend. Unfortunately our grief often outlasts the willingness or the capacity of our friends to listen to us or to offer us the support we so desperately need and deserve. The only people who truly understand are those who have suffered a loss similar to our own. I see that you are from Peoria ~ Have you considered participating in an "in person" grief support group near you? You can call Hospice of the Valley's Bereavement Office, 602-530-6970, for information on times, locations, etc. for such groups, which are offered all over the Valley. See also HOV's Bereavement Services, and be sure to scroll down the page, where you'll find two support groups listed specifically for Peoria.

Dear Ones ~ This is such an important and informative discussion! I'm not sure how many of you managed to find your way to my post of March 24 (in the thread entitled Did We Make The Right Choice?), so I'm reproducing the content of that post here: Posted by MartyT, March 24, 2008 @ 4:07 PM Dear Sister, I wonder what responses you would get if you asked that same question of the people who were the recipients of your brother’s organs. I’m sure that, from their perspective and that of their family members, you certainly did “make the right choice.” I can think of no greater gift than that of organ donation, especially considering the tragic circumstances under which this precious gift was given by you and your family. I simply cannot imagine what it must have been like for you and your family to have found yourselves in the position you describe, and I certainly can understand why, months later, you are still questioning the wisdom of the god-like decision you all were required to make. I think it's only natural to question such awesome decisions. Nevertheless, as I read your tragic story, it seems to me that you were honoring your brother’s wishes as you all understood them to be, and you did exactly what he would have wanted you to do. Without excusing any insensitivity on the part of the organ donation staff, I also have to believe that the people involved in your brother’s case were legally, ethically and morally bound to adhere to a very strict protocol in making certain that your brother was dead before they harvested any organs and tissues from his body. I can only hope that, as you come to terms with this, you will give yourself the credit you deserve, and find some comfort in knowing that you helped your brother in this most selfless act of unmeasurable generosity. I am reminded of this beautiful poem by Robert N. Test: To Remember Me The day will come when my body will lie upon a white sheet neatly tucked under four corners of a mattress located in a hospital busily occupied with the living and the dying. At a certain moment a doctor will determine that my brain has ceased to function and that, for all intents and purposes, my life has stopped. When that day comes, do not attempt to instill artificial life into my body by the use of a machine. And don't call this my deathbed. Let it be called the Bed of Life, and let my body be taken from it to help others lead fuller lives. Give my sight to the man who has never seen a sunrise, a baby's face or the love in the eyes of a woman. Give my heart to a person whose own heart has caused nothing but endless days of pain. Give my kidneys to one who depends on a machine to exist from week to week. Take my bones, every muscle, every fiber and nerve in my body and find a way to make a crippled child walk. If you must bury something, let it be my faults, my weaknesses and all prejudice against my fellow man. Give my sins to the devil. Give my soul to God. If, by chance, you wish to remember me, do it with a kind deed or word to someone who needs you. If you do all I have asked, I will live forever. You might also find these resources informative and helpful: Organ Donation: Don’t Let These 10 Myths Confuse You Stories of Hope An In-Depth Look at Organ and Tissue Donation (PBS) Daniel’s Story

We're all holding you and your mom close, Wendy . . .

Vickie, dear ~ Our thoughts and prayers are with you on this difficult anniversary day. You may want to read the posts in this thread: Did We Make the Right Choice?

This article comes to us from Tony Falzano, and is reprinted here with his permission: WE NEVER SAID GOODBYE! by Tony Falzano Towards the end of her life, my mom had a number of health issues. These included high blood pressure, diabetes, heart failure and eventually, dialysis. In the fall of 1999, her right leg began to turn black and blue. It was diagnosed that her heart was not strong enough to pump the blood to the lower extremity and thus caused the leg to discolor. To correct this, mom had surgery on her artery to increase the blood flow. She came through the operation fine. She was alert that afternoon and was able to converse. The next day, the hospital staff tried to stabilize her vital signs. As the day progressed, my mother’s blood pressure would not return to normal. The doctor pulled me aside and said he was sorry but he didn’t think she would make it through the night. I thought to myself, “but its only 3:00 in the afternoon; maybe she’ll rally.” At 11:30 that night, her blood pressure was still slightly lower than normal but had remained stable for several hours. She was resting peacefully, and I was exhausted. I hedged she would make it to morning. My plan was to come back early and more refreshed. I asked the head nurse to call me the moment anything changed. I kissed mom’s cheek and left. I arrived home where my dad, who was a paraplegic, was waiting. We talked briefly about the day and I went to bed. I was asleep as my head touched the pillow. The phone rang at 3:50 AM. As dad answered it, I was already getting dressed. My father said it was the nurse and mom was slipping. With my car keys, I headed for the door, telling Dad I would call him later. I made every traffic light to the hospital. I parked in the space closest to the entrance. Even the elevator door was opened when I got there. I thought maybe these were signs I would see mom one more time. When I got to her room, the nurse was walking out. She stopped and said, “I’m sorry, she just passed!” She said I could have as much time as I needed with mom. She also said that a hospice nurse was on the way. I went in her room, closed the door and quietly viewed my mother from every angle around the bed where she laid. I remembered so many memories of my life with her. Obviously I was sad about her passing but I was prepared. We were not a particularly close family, but we ended phone conversations and visits with “I love you”. We spent as much time together as possible. “I’m sorry” was also sprinkled into our conversations when we realized our shortcomings might have affected the other. From that stand point there were no regrets, nothing needed to be said. But I always thought I would be with her when she took her final breath. I would hold her hand and formally say goodbye. She would leave this world with the only child she mothered, there beside her. There would be closure. But this expectation didn’t materialize. Now I was feeling guilty that I went home. The doctor told me her situation and I didn’t listen. I thought because of my selfishness, we never said goodbye. Just then, the hospice nurse walked in. She introduced herself as Sandy, offered her condolences and asked how I was doing. I said I was okay but told her of my issue. Sandy assured me that it was normal to have that doubt, but that I did the right thing by going home. She explained that in her experience, many patients pass on when no one is around. By design or by choice, they “go home” when they’re alone. She asked me if I ever thought that maybe mom didn’t want to say goodbye. Sandy rationalized, “if the two of you never said goodbye, then it’s not the end of your relationship.” She let me digest that idea. She asked if I believed in the here-after. I said, “Yes”. She affirmed, “Then, it’s not goodbye! You both believe you will meet again!” Sandy also made me realize that though my mother and I did not physically connect when she passed, as I had hoped, we were connected by the same faith that we would be together again. At the end of my father’s life, he was taken off a respirator and peacefully lay in bed. He closed his eyes and never opened them in my presence again. On the day he passed, I spent an extended lunch silently looking at him as he lay in bed, remembering our life together. At 4:30 that afternoon, I received a call at work saying he died. As with mom, we never said goodbye. But this time was easier. I thought about Sandy and the lesson she taught. And I realized another thing: not all of life’s lessons come with fanfare or fireworks. Some of the most profound conversations we have in our lives are delivered with gentle words from caregivers who become our best friend if for only a few moments inside of one day. Their words lift us up and remind us that those who have left are in a better place and they wait for us there! [Tony Falzano is a college professor, published author and award winning songwriter. Many people mourning a loss are discovering his music CD, In Abba's Arms. It offers 12 original instrumentals created as an inspirational companion for those searching for healing and hope. This nurturing music has also brought calm, comfort and relaxation to a wide range of audiences, from those seeking quiet contemplation, to mothers nursing their newborns, to those who are involved with healing arts of Reiki, massage and meditation. The CD is available through the grief resource company, The Centering Corporation. For more insight into the album, please visit https://store.cdbaby.com/cd/falzano. Tony's other articles, Music: Helping to Heal Those Who Grieve and Journal Your Journey through Grief, also appear in this forum.]

Shauna, dear ~ Not inappropriate at all. You'll find a number of Web sites listed on the Memorials ~ Funerals ~ Rituals page of my Grief Healing Web site that describe this type of burial. See especially Memorial Ecosystems.

Dear One, I agree with Mary Linda. Your husband’s response to your efforts to “get him to talk about it” with you indicate that he is not yet ready to do so, and you are wise to comply with his wishes. While you “just want to understand what he’s going through,” this news is still so recent that your husband may not even know how he feels about all of it yet, and he may just need some time and space to think it through and figure it out for himself before he is ready to discuss it with you. If you’ve already indicated to him that you “want to be there to help him” (that is, “When and if you have a need to talk about this, I will be here to listen without judgment,” or words to that effect) then right now that is all you need to say. You might find this article helpful: Understanding Different Mourning Patterns in Your Family

Ann, dear, that is one of the nicest things you could have said, to us and about us ~ that no matter how long it's been since your last visit, you take comfort in knowing you can come here and tell us how you REALLY feel about anything ~ and please know that you are always, always welcome here

Karen, dear, you are such a special member of our GH family, and you are always in our hearts ~ but most especially today . . .

Dear Ones, For those of you looking for further information about Memory Bears: Memory Bears Help Families Remember Their Loved Ones

Randy Pausch, the charismatic young college professor who chronicled his battle with pancreatic cancer in a remarkable speech widely-known as The Last Lecture has died at the age of 47. He was at home, surrounded by his wife, Jai, and his three children. Read more here

Jan, you might want to read all the posts in these threads: Tears Win Again Sorting Through Papers

Well, Wendy, that's a very good question ~ I never noticed that until you pointed it out! I just went in and fixed it, so you're now officially an Advanced Member

Kathy, dear, please let me add my voice to Karen's and Wendy's in giving you permission to TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF FIRST. If it helps to put yourself first in these situations, think of this image. Remember what the airline attendant always says every time you board a plane. If you're traveling with another person who will need your help to put on an oxygen mask in the event that the cabin loses air pressure, put on your own mask first. Sometimes the work of grief requires all the energy we can muster just to get out of bed in the morning. If you don't take care of yourself first, Kathy, there will be no one there to take care of your sister when she needs you the most. You are entitled to take a break whenever you feel the need to do so, and you are not required to be available to your sister 24 hours a day ~ especially under these very difficult circumstances.

I'm Still Waiting What I'm feeling, time is gonna heal it I've been hearing that for so long now They say I'll move on, got to try and be strong Life will go on,I'll get through this somehow Oh, but how, when I'm still waiting For you to come back I'm aching For you to walk through that door And hold me once more But you won't Waiting It was a Sunday, we buried you in the rain I never knew pain 'til the first night alone Opened your closet, breathed you in and lost it The truth of it, baby, finally hit home No,you're not coming home but I'm still waiting For you to come back I'm aching For you to walk through that door And hold me once more But you won't Waiting Wish you could talk to me somehow Tell me what do I do now I'm still waiting I'm still waiting For you to come back I'm aching For you to walk through that door And hold me once more But you won't Waiting I'm aching For you to walk through that door And hold me once more But you won't ~ you won't Yeah,I know ~ I know That you won't ~ you won't Still I go on Waiting [source: Cowboylyrics.com]

Mary Linda, your comforting message to Teny reminds me of the lovely words inspired by an Eskimo legend: Perhaps they are not stars in the sky, but rather openings in Heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.

Maylissa, dear ~ There is precious little I can say to you other than what I've already said to you in so many of my previous posts, PMs and e-mails. Suffice it to say that I continue to feel for you, and I'm so sorry that you've been treated so badly by so many. I'm gratified that you continue to think of this as your safe place, where you "can at least come here and just about always find someone who understands or cares." As you have accurately observed, so much of your circumstances exceed our capacity to help ~ but at least we are always here for you ~ not to judge, but to listen, to empathize, and to reassure you that you are loved.

Mary Linda, dear ~ We are thinking of you on this anniversary day, and I'm hoping you will find this article helpful: Remembering Our Loved Ones on Valentine's Day

Karen and Wendy, I thought of both you after I read your posts last night, and I hope you got some sleep. I am so grateful that you are there for each other in such a special way. You are in our prayers . . .

Jeanne, dear ~ I just want to welcome you to our online family and express our heartfelt sympathy for the death of your husband. I'm so sorry for the reasons that brought you here, but please know we are here for you, and glad to know that you found us. Wishing you peace and healing, MartyT

Dear Ones, As a follow-up to Sherry's post, see all the posts in this thread: The Last Lecture

I think that is one of the most valuable aspects of a site like this one, Derek ~ it's like a journal, in the sense that you can go back to your very first posts and read just how far you've come.