‘How ARE you?’ It’s a worldwide cultural opener but for a person recovering from the loss of a loved one, it can be confronting. Especially when conversational time hasn’t been taken to (re)establish rapport – that’s where casual talk about the weather or other miscellany comes into its own.
When someone opens a conversation with like this, I’m momentarily taken aback. Usually, it’s a person with whom I’ve not been in regular contact but know quite well. I feel as if my deepest well-being is being probed and feel obligated to give an honest answer.
In truth, that is not required, but it’s how I feel. Recently, I replied ‘It’s now almost nine months since Ken died and I’m pulling through’. That didn’t seem enough for my inquirer, and I was pressed to reveal more.
After the conversation, I was left feeling confused and sad. I’m sure the person meant well but it didn’t help me. I could’ve said ’I’m fine, thanks, and you?’ and waited to see what came next. But I’m not one to ignore the elephant in the room.
Just as I am in the demographic that is most often targeted by scammers, so I am among those who become accustomed to hearing about death. We slowly develop the skills to communicate compassionately with people who suffer loss.
A local Death Café taught me about listening, without jumping in to ‘fix’ the other person or offer advice. I’ve more to learn, though. We meet monthly by Zoom, less than a dozen people who are facing death, seeking a safe space in which to share. The gentle and expert facilitator is a death doula, a non-medical person trained to help people navigate end-of-life.
When I first joined the group, I noticed that the conversation was more about everyday life than it was about death. That was the challenge – to go on with life knowing that death is in our not-so-distant futures, either for ourselves or for someone close to us. The quiet example of people in this group educates me, humbles me and inspires my respect.
After Ken’s death, I received many invitations for free grief counselling. The first was from his bank! Then there was his palliative care service and I lost count of the ones that came thereafter. I didn’t have time for group counselling, I thought, but perhaps I should have taken up one of those invitations.
Not long ago, I had coffee with a woman I used to know from my gym. Her husband attended and she came for a while until she discovered Pilates suited her better. We connected in that short time although never met outside the gym.
Her husband died just three months after Ken, and I reached out to her. We are both resourceful people who get on with life. Our husbands had survived years after the time predicted by their medical prognoses.
That winter morning, looking in the mirror of my friend’s experience, hearing her story unfold, I saw afresh the magnitude of what had happened to us both.
Trauma and grief are not to be shrugged off.
She and I are still in a precarious and vulnerable place.
Each person who extends a hand to us does so in goodwill, whatever their communication skills.
I will be kinder to myself, and grateful to them.
Pahan: traditional Sri Lankan oil lamp, courtesy Amitha, Pixabay
16 Responses
Yes Ruth…we often think we are doing ‘just fine’…or coping well…until the time comes when we come out from under the shadow that has been over us and our daily life and we see where we have been at with our sadness/anger/depression/hurt/vulnerability/anxiety..all those things in the mix of loss and grief. It’s like a fog clears…you see it’s been a lonely journey despite all the lovely things that take place in day to day life. This too shall pass, as they say! Much as always. L
Thanks dear Leonie – coming out from ‘under the shadow’ is a perfect description.
Thanks yet again Ruth.
Your thoughts on how we all deal with grief, in ourselves and in others, are most interesting. There will never be a perfect way of dealing with it.
Look after yourself!
Geoff
Thanks Geoff; I agree that the way we each deal with grief and loss is very individual. Which of course makes it hard to respond in the most sensitive way, to suit the person.
No matter how prepared we are for the passing of a loved one, the grief is still acute when it happens Ruth, and you’ve captured this feeling so well in your writing. I’m glad you’re surrounded by good people xx
Vicki, thank you. I really appreciate the way you are ‘there’for me. Being ‘there’ – how it happens – it not easily put into words.
You’ve got it!
I hope you received my Rilke quote, Ruth.
No Cecile … email is safest for me, rather than WhatsApp or Messenger which I tend not to use – but did check them both.
I hope this freezing weather is not causing too much angst for you.
Ruth,
As you know, I lost my dear younger brother Nick on 5th August last year. As he lived in Newcastle and I live in Sydney there are no people around for me to keep his memory alive for me. Not usually very religious, I say a brief prayer for him every night. I am glad that we had a service for him and that at least 11 of his former carers attended. But I have no one to talk to about him, to keep his memory alive. I still can’t believe that he has gone.
I can’t quite accept it. I feel for you that you are grieving- I hope you can find some comfort in talking to friends. I have heard that there is a good group- Solace- which a Sydney friend has found as a lifeline after the death of her husband.
Sue, thank you for sharing that. I think you’re doing what you need to do and the rest is the passage of time. Thank you for the reminder about Solace. I’ve looked it up and think that I’ll join the New South Wales zoom group.
I posted it here, Ruth. It said pending moderation by you.
I’ll repost it shortly.
Just double -checked:no sign of it. Will watch out for your re-post.
“Murderers
aren’t hard to understand. But this, to hold
death, all of death before life starts, to hold
it so gently in oneself and yet
to feel no rage, this is beyond all words.”
Rainer Maria Rilke Fourth Duino Elegy
Cecile, so much in those few lines, thank you.
I’m in awe of how you can express your most inner feelings so eloquently and in a way we can all relate to. It’s another beautiful piece!
Merv, your feedback is really appreciated. Each month I find myself wondering if I have anything more to say …