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This was my answer to the idiot. I posted it all over my Facebook.  I'm not sure who wrote this or even where I got it*  

 

 



"Grief means loss. Grief means pain and suffering. Grief means mourning.

Grief means someone or something you love is gone. Grief means a gaping hole in your heart.

Grief means that things will never be the same again.

I see posts about the “stages of grief” and the “grief process” — and I hate it.

It makes it sound so sterile, so clinical, so neatly organized.

I hear people wondering when someone will “get over” or “get past” their mourning and “move on with their life” — and I hate it.

It makes it sound so easy.

It makes it sound as if having something or someone ripped out of your life isn’t profoundly life-altering, as if you aren’t living and breathing every day with something that has wounded your soul, as if you’re defective when someone feels your “official mourning period” should be over.

As if the space in your heart that has someone’s name on it should be boarded up, or worse, cleaned up and ready for occupation, all the cobwebs of pain swept away.                   As if it didn’t matter. As if that space could be filled up and smoothed over by time like patch…
Grief isn’t something that we “get past” or “get over” so much as we learn to live in spite of.

It’s learning to breathe and walk all over again. And again. And again.

It comes and goes like waves. The holes in our hearts are like the sand on the beach. It erodes and it fills with the tide, but it’s never actually exactly the same again.

And like the tide, it doesn’t really stop.

And the truth is, you don’t want it to. Because grief is the price we pay for deep love. Mourning means we had something worth missing.

And that’s OK.

Because the alternative is never having had that beauty in your life.
Some days — even years from now — the pain will stun you, but some days you can smile at a memory without it being through tears. Some days the pain of them not being here will be a physical ache, others you’ll feel as if they’re smiling and standing right by you and others you’ll feel numb".

*[Source: https://downtherabbithole397.wordpress.com/2017/07/12/grief-and-perseverance/]

Edited by MartyT
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7 hours ago, Nightwinds said:

I see posts about the “stages of grief” and the “grief process” — and I hate it.

It makes it sound so sterile, so clinical, so neatly organized.

It's not and the 5 stages of grief is a misnomer.  Good for you for speaking up for yourself and for all grievers!  And I agree about the price you pay, I wouldn't undo one day with George.

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"[Hospice Foundation of America is] excited to add another program to our education offerings . . . The New Perspectives series will address the latest thinking on various topics and its application in the work of hospice and palliative care professionals. Beyond Kübler-Ross: New Perspectives in Death, Dying and Grief will explore what has been learned since Kübler-Ross published her epochal book On Death and Dying [in 1969]. Our panel will examine what we know about death, dying and grief more than 40 years later, and what should be taught, understood, and practiced today.

In a chapter for our upcoming companion book, Dr. Ken Doka succinctly talks about why this matters. 'Certainly Stage Models are ingrained within the popular imagination - references to them appear in television shows and movies, and they also remain prevalent in health education...How should one respond to persons, especially supervisors, still tied to older models?' He then goes on to point out that, for anyone who works with those facing the end of life, 'It is an ethical mandate to work from the most current knowledge. After all, would a cancer patient wish to be treated by an oncologist steeped in the approaches offered in 1969?'"

 

[Source: “Message from Amy Tucci,”  President and CEO, HFA July/August Newsletter Vol. 11. No. 7/8, July/August 2011]

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11 hours ago, Nightwinds said:

This was my answer to the idiot. I posted it all over my Facebook.  I'm not sure who wrote this or even where I got it*  

 

 



"Grief means loss. Grief means pain and suffering. Grief means mourning.

Grief means someone or something you love is gone. Grief means a gaping hole in your heart.

Grief means that things will never be the same again.

I see posts about the “stages of grief” and the “grief process” — and I hate it.

It makes it sound so sterile, so clinical, so neatly organized.

I hear people wondering when someone will “get over” or “get past” their mourning and “move on with their life” — and I hate it.

It makes it sound so easy.

It makes it sound as if having something or someone ripped out of your life isn’t profoundly life-altering, as if you aren’t living and breathing every day with something that has wounded your soul, as if you’re defective when someone feels your “official mourning period” should be over.

As if the space in your heart that has someone’s name on it should be boarded up, or worse, cleaned up and ready for occupation, all the cobwebs of pain swept away.                   As if it didn’t matter. As if that space could be filled up and smoothed over by time like patch…
Grief isn’t something that we “get past” or “get over” so much as we learn to live in spite of.

It’s learning to breathe and walk all over again. And again. And again.

It comes and goes like waves. The holes in our hearts are like the sand on the beach. It erodes and it fills with the tide, but it’s never actually exactly the same again.

And like the tide, it doesn’t really stop.

And the truth is, you don’t want it to. Because grief is the price we pay for deep love. Mourning means we had something worth missing.

And that’s OK.

Because the alternative is never having had that beauty in your life.
Some days — even years from now — the pain will stun you, but some days you can smile at a memory without it being through tears. Some days the pain of them not being here will be a physical ache, others you’ll feel as if they’re smiling and standing right by you and others you’ll feel numb".

*[Source: https://downtherabbithole397.wordpress.com/2017/07/12/grief-and-perseverance/]

I keep getting the question, "Are you getting better?"  I feel like I must have a sickness or that is what others see it as....then I think I need to get "better." 

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2 minutes ago, Cookie said:

I keep getting the question, "Are you getting better?"  I feel like I must have a sickness or that is what others see it as....then I think I need to get "better." 

They want us to get better. In fact, they NEED us to get better. They selfishly want some assurance that grief is finite. That it somehow isn't that bad. They don't want us to be the living reminder of what death can do to a spouse left behind. Just in case they are the half of their marriage that is left without their spouse

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One of the hardest things about the business of grieving is what we have to hear over and over again. I have learned to smile when I hear those comments now because.... What can you say?  The more years that pass bring more bewildered expressions from the "over it yeters?" and so why bother to explain. The beauty of true love is how nothing can kill it. Our memories of the love we shared stays with us and so it fuels grief. That is not as bad as it sounds for even though we may be stronger as the years pass, some form of grief remains and perhaps when we accept it, we can let the good memories control how we go on. I am happier now than I have been in a long, long while and with good reason but my new bride and I will always talk about how we miss them and give each other a hug when it hurts. I cannot see that ever ending.

There is a trick and a learned behavior in how we deal with those comments but remember this. There will always be those in our lives that get it. Hang on to those people for they wear a badge, a very special badge.

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I seem to have waves of grief and I am always alone when the really bad ones hit. 

I feel like a water faucet all the time now. I just tear up anything talk about Brian or even just typing this. I can't tell you when my love for this man encompassed my life but I felt my heart break and my soul leave with him when he died. I was running around gathering clothes to meet him st another hospital. I hit my knees and grabbed my chest about 39 minutes after I put him on the ambulance. I called his phone. He answered and said hey babe and I heard the phone hit the floor and the emt start working on him. I cried so hard. Hanging up the phone felt like I gave up on him. I went back to the hospital knowing he would be taken back. 

When they brought him in he was uncovered and his eyes were open. I have nightmares of those eyes many nights a week. 

I will never be ok with losing him but I will go on. 

 

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1 hour ago, Nightwinds said:

I seem to have waves of grief and I am always alone when the really bad ones hit. 

I feel like a water faucet all the time now. I just tear up anything talk about Brian or even just typing this. I can't tell you when my love for this man encompassed my life but I felt my heart break and my soul leave with him when he died. I was running around gathering clothes to meet him st another hospital. I hit my knees and grabbed my chest about 39 minutes after I put him on the ambulance. I called his phone. He answered and said hey babe and I heard the phone hit the floor and the emt start working on him. I cried so hard. Hanging up the phone felt like I gave up on him. I went back to the hospital knowing he would be taken back. 

When they brought him in he was uncovered and his eyes were open. I have nightmares of those eyes many nights a week. 

I will never be ok with losing him but I will go on. 

 

I too replay the final days in my mind. Over and over and over. Second guessing. Playing alternate scenarios. Trying to find one where she lives. Where my CPR works. Where I get a 2nd opinion. They all lead back to here. Alone. That is my new lot in life. When I married Lori, I said forever and I meant it. I will honor our marriage until the day I die. 

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Me too, tho it's the final 10-15 min. Susan went into the bathroom feeling sick but with no hint of a life threatening condition and no doubt that T&S world was safe, all her future plans in place. I went to see why the water had been on so long without ever a thought that T&S world had already ended. I still find it hard to believe and frequently replay the instant of finding her lying there lifeless.

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Since brian died my world has become pretty small. I lost his 20 year old cat a few days after he passed. I had to have him put down. He had dementia so bad and he would stand in front of Brian's spot on the couch and scream all night long and walk through the house crying all day looking for him. I had terrible guilt for this but he was making my grief even worse. 

My 15 year old cat was diagnosed with mammary cancer a week after Brian passed. 

In 2 months it has spread all over her and one tumor is hot and close to rupturing. When it ruptures I will have no choice but to take her to the vet and lose her also. It almost feels like the last straw. 

She is closer to me than my family as sad as that is to say. She is my 3rd child. She has had no mother besides me. She was raised with the powdered kitty milk and a syringe. Let me tell you that every kitten I have raised this way is a hellion. Something was different between us. It's almost as though you can have a soul May human in your life and a soul mate animal. 

I taought her words and she said momma and right now pretty well. 

She has a couple of weeks. I have decided to pretty much stay home and I'm staying in bed with her. 

She is just starting to feel pain and I will not let her suffer. 

If links are ok this is my husband and her playing. 

 

 

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10 hours ago, Eagle-96 said:

They want us to get better. In fact, they NEED us to get better. They selfishly want some assurance that grief is finite. That it somehow isn't that bad. They don't want us to be the living reminder of what death can do to a spouse left behind. Just in case they are the half of their marriage that is left without their spouse

 

I agree.  Many don't have the empathy to understand the grief and others are deathly afraid of it and will avoid you because you are a reminder of the life they have a 50% chance at  

my father is one that doesn't have the empathy  about an hour after brian passed he called me and asked why I was crying  you knew he was going to die  you knew for 17 years  

I know how lucky we were to have those extra years after his first dissection.  Doesn't make it any easier  

 

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3 hours ago, Nightwinds said:

She is closer to me than my family as sad as that is to say. She is my 3rd child. She has had no mother besides me.

Awww...I am so sorry to hear about your husband and now your cats. That is really hard. My cat has been been such a help since losing my dad, who was my best friend. We were a little family, my dad, me and Lena. And now it's just me and Lena.

I know what you mean by the waves. I just returned from traveling to PA to bury his ashes. The trip went well and my sisters were reasonable humans, which was a big relief. But then I returned home and the shuttle drove into the spectacular beauty of Sedona that is my home, but it all seemed hollow as it hit me that it is Sedona-without-my-dad. And the crushing feeling that I couldn't breathe returned. Not for good and not all the time and not as bad as it was in the beginning. But it's not over either.

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Nightwinds:

THREE MONTHS?!!!! I could not believe what I've just read. That comment just shows no real understanding or knowledge of how things are. Your response summed it up very eloquently.

It's just over a year now for me now and I have been recently been asked twice if I'm feeling a bit better now and when I reply [depending on my mood at the time] "not really" or "maybe a tiny bit, but that's all" the person asking the question seemed very surprised though tried to half-heartedly conceal it.

Nobody really has even an idea of what it's like until they experience it themselves.

And yes, those final 15 mins or so cannot help but replay in our heads over and over again. I sometimes feel like I've just made a film and consider that the original ending is too sad so I'm thinking of a different, happier one but none of what I come up with seems right for the story I've tried to tell.

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10 hours ago, Nightwinds said:

I lost his 20 year old cat a few days after he passed. I had to have him put down. He had dementia so bad and he would stand in front of Brian's spot on the couch and scream all night long and walk through the house crying all day looking for him. I had terrible guilt for this but he was making my grief even worse. 

You did what was best for his cat, the internal pain he was going through was so great...now they can be together.  This is one of my favorite articles regarding guilt over losing our animal: http://media.wix.com/ugd/0dd4a5_e934e7f92d104d31bcb334d6c6d63974.pdf

10 hours ago, Nightwinds said:

My 15 year old cat was diagnosed with mammary cancer a week after Brian passed.

It is so hard.  George's cat, Tigger, left two months after he died, I guess he figured I wasn't worth sticking around for.  He waited two months for George to come back and when he didn't, he took one long hard look at me, as if committing me to memory (I guess I meant something to him), turned tail and left.  I never saw him again.  One year after I lost my husband, I lost my cat, King George, he had cancer and I had him euthanized.  Had he not been misdiagnosed earlier, I would have done it sooner to alleviate his vast suffering.  I still miss him 11 years later.

I'm glad you're able to spend time with your cat in these, his last days.  My prayers go with you during this time of painful decision making.

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5 hours ago, Dr Lenera said:

It's just over a year now for me now and I have been recently been asked twice if I'm feeling a bit better now and when I reply [depending on my mood at the time] "not really" or "maybe a tiny bit, but that's all" the person asking the question seemed very surprised though tried to half-heartedly conceal it.

Nobody really has even an idea of what it's like until they experience it themselves.

That is reality smacking them in the face. A reality they have a 50/50 chance of facing one day. They had probably secretly hoped you would say you were doing "great" or "much better". If you tell them that then it is a relief to them. Not because you're doing much better, but because it makes them feel better about any grief they have in store down the line. The rest of the world wants nothing more than for us to be "back to normal" after a month or two. That's THEIR best case scenario in all of this. Then they can tell themselves that they will do fine in 10, 20, or 30 years when it happens to them. It's interesting when they get "the look" on their face when they ask about how we are doing and we actually tell them how we really are. They get that pained look like we are putting THEM out and making them feel bad for a minute or two. The reality is that we STAY in that pain for the rest of our lives. I wanna ask them, "Would you like to trade places. I'll feel awkward for a minute and you get to be in complete despair forever. Sound good?"

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Wow Sean.  I couldn't have said it better myself.  I'm noticing people shying away from asking how I am now.  They don't mean to hurt me, but it does.  I've started telling strangers at stor s when asked.....not so good.  I just want to be able to vocalize the truth.  Just like when I could honestly say fine or great.

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Grief is our Silent lifelong partner........always with you, passenger for life....I accept this as part of my Future, and don't even try to explain it........When I'm asked how are you doing,? my answer, is as good as can be expected or the same.......and then back at them, how are they doing...have a good week end  everyone........ 

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On 7/27/2017 at 7:01 PM, Eagle-96 said:

I too replay the final days in my mind. Over and over and over. Second guessing. Playing alternate scenarios. Trying to find one where she lives. Where my CPR works. Where I get a 2nd opinion. They all lead back to here. Alone. That is my new lot in life. When I married Lori, I said forever and I meant it. I will honor our marriage until the day I die. 

I too have a haunting memory that won't stop plaguing me.  The hallway to our bedroom was too narrow and awkward for the EMTs to fit their stretcher, so they carried MIchael out of the bedroom from under his shoulders and legs.  He just hung there, so limp and pitiful, as they carried him.  He had a look on his face that I will never forget.  Was it disappointment that I called the ambulance and didn't let him die at home?  Was it pain from being manhandled by them as they carried him and dropped him on the stretcher? Was he mad at me?  Was he glad I called for help when I did?  The memory of him being so fragile and weak on that stretcher and the look of disappointment(?) on his face is burnt into my memory forever.

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56 minutes ago, Mike's Girl said:

I too have a haunting memory that won't stop plaguing me.  The hallway to our bedroom was too narrow and awkward for the EMTs to fit their stretcher, so they carried MIchael out of the bedroom from under his shoulders and legs.  He just hung there, so limp and pitiful, as they carried him.  He had a look on his face that I will never forget.  Was it disappointment that I called the ambulance and didn't let him die at home?  Was it pain from being manhandled by them as they carried him and dropped him on the stretcher? Was he mad at me?  Was he glad I called for help when I did?  The memory of him being so fragile and weak on that stretcher and the look of disappointment(?) on his face is burnt into my memory forever.

It brings back guilt, second-guessing, regret, etc... Did I do enough. Did I do something wrong. I think about finding her on the bathroom floor. The fear in her eyes. Seeing her slipping away no matter how hard I tried. If anyone wants to know the definition of "helpless", just perform CPR on the love of your life and watch them slip away. I will never be able to get those few minutes out of my mind. It's not beneficial to my healing but my mind keeps taking me back to 3:30 AM on 04/01/17. To the worst few minutes of my life. Or what's left of it anyway. I wake up at 3:30 in the morning constantly. For the first month I couldn't figure out why I was waking up at that time every night. Then it hit me. It's like the grief monster wants to make sure I know he's there day and night. That he's not going anywhere anytime soon. The monster wants me to know who's running the show now. 

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