Making Sense of Loss | Living with Loss | Grieving and the Problem of Hope | Because You Asked: Stressing Laughter
By Kenneth J. Doka
We tend to think of grief as an emotional response. But grief affects us on other levels. We can experience aches and pains. It can influence the ways we behave, making us withdrawn, overactive, or short-tempered. We may find it hard to concentrate. All of these are ways that grief can be expressed.
One of the most difficult issues that we can face is making sense or meaning of our loss. Whenever we ask the question, "Why did this have to happen?" we are raising the issue of meaning.
Not every loss challenges our sense of meaning. Eleanor's mom died soon after she turned 96 years old. The last years had been tough. Eleanor's mom had gradually lost her mobility, sight and independence. Mom had been ready to die, constantly talking about how tired she was. One night she drifted off to sleep, never to wake again. Eleanor misses her terribly, but she never asks those "Why?" questions. Even in Eleanor's grief, the circumstances of her mother's death comfort her. She had lived a rich and full life. She had not experienced great pain. She seemed ready.
Other losses may challenge our sense of meaning. Doris' husband, Phil, died soon after retiring. "We had all these wonderful plans. He had worked so hard. He never had time to enjoy." Not only does Doris struggle to find meaning in Phil's death, she has yet to find a sense of purpose for her own life now. Paul, too, is troubled by the death of his wife. "She was such a good woman, constantly volunteering, always helping. Why did she suffer so?" Both Doris and Paul remind us that struggles with meaning are likely to be more difficult when the circumstances of the death are troubling or ill-timed.
Whenever we grapple with these questions, it is important to remember a few key points.
Making meaning is an individual process. The meanings that give others comfort may not be helpful to us. That does not mean that we should not discuss these questions with others. Talking with others is essential to helping us find meaning. But we need not be troubled if we cannot find support in the thoughts that comfort them.
Search your own spirituality. Each of us has our own ways of understanding the world. That understanding is the center of our spirituality. We need to ask how our spirituality can help us make sense of the loss.
Focus on the connections and legacies. Anyone we grieve has touched our life in many ways: memories we have shared, things we have learned, new appreciations and skills. These legacies, as well as other connections we find in our own spirituality, reassure us that they still remain a part of our lives. Connections and legacies can help us find meaning even in the most difficult losses.
By Judy Tatelbaum, MSW
When a loved one dies, the path toward recovery may seem like a mountain that is too high to climb. However, there are some steps you can take that will help to ease the journey. The first two suggestions are the most important.
Allow your grief. Accept and allow your grief as a natural response to your loss. Don't deny it. You may long for the one you love to reappear. You may feel remorse or regret as well as sorrow and anger. All these feelings are a natural part of grief.
Express your grief. Empty out your feelings. Cry when you need to cry. Be angry when you feel angry. Don't suppress yourself or pretend to be stoic. The more you express your pain, the more you free yourself from it.
Keep busy. You cannot dwell on your sorrow every waking moment. In the first rush of grief, you may have no choice about the extent of your suffering. With the passage of time, you need to keep busy to nourish yourself, to avoid obsessing, to lessen your mental suffering.
Add new activities and people. We begin to heal when we open ourselves to having a new life. New activities and people can be stimulating and nourishing. It's rewarding to have the old friends who share our memories, and new friends open the road to new possibilities.
Stay in communication with people who support you. Keep talking and sharing yourself with friends and family. Let yourself be loved. Love the people who are still alive.
Join a support group. People in grief need to break through their isolation and loneliness. A group of people with whom to share your feelings, your loss, your memories, and your healing can help.
Keep a journal. This is a powerful method for expressing pain, as well as means for having private, intimate time with yourself.
Exercise daily. Through exercise, for instance by walking for twenty or thirty minutes every day, you build your physical strength, release tension, and keep yourself well.
Be willing to change things around. It is natural to wish to keep things the way that they were when our loved one was still with us. Still, that doesn't keep them alive.
Know that healing isn't necessarily quick and easy. Grief takes as long as it takes. Take care of yourself and you will begin to heal. Recovering from grief means a lessening of the pain of your loss, so that in time it becomes tolerable. But of course your love will last forever.
Grieving and the Problem of Hope
By Rev. Paul Irion
All through your loved one's illness, you struggled with hope. First hope that there would be recovery from illness; then hope that the end of life would be pain-free and peaceful. The question you faced was, "Can one's life have some kind of forward movement when everything else seems to be going the other way?" And now that you are grieving your loss, the same question is still there. Days seem to drag by, things that used to give you pleasure seem empty, it's hard to plan for the future. Can you hope for life to get better when everything seems to have been going the other way?
Hospice helped you experience the difference between curing and caring. The time came when you and your loved one faced the fact that recovery was not going to happen. Hospice care wasn't focused on high-tech curing, it was based on high-intensity personal caring. You know from your own experience that hospice staff and volunteers, family, friends, all provided a level of caring that made the last days of life more meaningful, even while everything was going downhill.
The horizons of your life understandably pulled in to encompass just that room, that bed, that person. You weren't interested in what was going on in the news; you found it hard to concentrate on your work. Your attention was on your loved one. Moments were precious as you remembered together joys and sorrows from the past. When you could no longer hope for a cure, you learned to hope for the peace that caring could bring, finding new depth in your experience of the remaining days.
This is no less true of the time in which you find yourself now. Just as you were able to find meaning in the weeks and days when a life was fading away, you can find meaning in the months when you are putting your life back together without the presence of a loved one. I have heard grieving people say, "Life doesn't mean anything to me any more." That's understandable! When we have lost someone who has been very important to us for so many years, life is bound to feel empty and meaningless. Without them what do we have to hope for?
One way of struggling with this sense of hopelessness is to remember that we are not alone as we face crises. Most families draw together in such times. Friends want to be helpful. Hospice staff provide support and care. You got through that difficult time because in so many ways you were surrounded, cared for, supported. You belonged to a circle of family and friends, you were part of the process of living and dying that is as old as humankind. That is a reason for hope. That sense of being surrounded got you through the time when your loved one was dying; now it can help you get through the difficult experience of grieving. Even in a time of profound loss, you can be sustained by the caring of others. You are not alone. There is reason to hope!
Because You Asked: Stressing Laughter
By Rabbi Earl Grollman
"My husband died a few months ago after a long illness. We had been happily married for over twenty years. I'm devastated. I feel so lonely and miserable that I can't stop crying. But from time to time when something funny happens, or when I remember one of the hilarious things he said and did, I giggle. My loved one is dead and here I am laughing. What kind of person am I?"
Other bereaved people also tell me how uncomfortable they are when they begin to smile again. They may feel guilty and disloyal, as if participating in an act of betrayal.
On the face of it, grief and laughter are the opposite poles of human feelings. Yet they are inextricably bound. Laughter permits you to approach grief, reduce it to size, and manage loss effectively. Like a safety valve, humor offers a shift in perspective and energy that restores a sense of balance.
It's okay to laugh again. It's good spiritually. Proverbs (15:3) tells us, "A merry heart doth good like medicine."
It's good psychologically. Sigmund Freud wrote, "Humor is a defense mechanism that allows people to face difficult situations without being overwhelmed." Humor vents anger and despair, liberates hidden emotions, and promotes healing.
Laughter is good medically. The Journal of the American Medical Association emphasizes the therapeutic value of humor. Laughter loosens muscles, enhances circulation and triggers the body's natural pain killers. It works without bad side effects.
Ask yourself these two questions: By denying yourself pleasure, are you commemorating appropriately your loved one's memory? Wouldn't your loved one want you to savor life and live as fully as possible?
Your loved one is dead, but you're still alive. Smiling and enjoying parts of life is not an indication that you loved less. It is your determination to affirm life, a true testimonial to your loved one. It's OK to laugh again.
John F. Kennedy said, "There are three things that are real: God, human tragedy, and laughter. Since we cannot understand completely the first two, we must do with the third."
Cry when you must; laugh when you can.
