By Erin Diehl
"Erin - help, help me - I think I'm dying,"
Dave cried out. And then he was gone. It had been only three months
since we had received the diagnosis of cancer of the lungs in an advanced
state. We were both stunned because Dave had always been unusually healthy.
The doctors had found nothing wrong in previous checkups.
Before we received the results of the X-rays, I promised
Dave, my husband of 43 years, that I would be strong no matter what.
And strong I was - through the grueling three months of illness, during
the funeral Mass, at the burial, at the reception so kindly arranged
by women from my parish. I went on and on and on being strong!
Eighteen months later I have encountered what one writer
calls "delayed grief." And I have learned a very valuable
lesson: We must allow ourselves to grieve, and we all grieve in different
ways, for various lengths of time.
Working your way through.
In one of the books I read on grief, I came
across the phrase "creative survivor". What a hopeful term!
That is what Dave would want me to be. I can almost hear him saying
in his calm and loving and practical way, "O.K, Erin, now get on
with your life. Just put one foot in front of the other and keep going."
This does not mean that I do not have excruciating times
of missing him. It just means I profit by the wisdom I know he would
impart to me and which I hope to impart to you in this CareNote.
Take steps to relieve loneliness.
Loneliness is a constant companion. I rationalize that everyone is lonely
at times, even married people. Yet coming home to find no one to share
news with is a debilitating "downer". Evenings and nights
have been the worst times for me.
Occupying those long evening hours can ease the void.
Always having been a "book-in-hand mediator", I turned to
books on grief very naturally. I spent many sleepless nights poring
over them and found much solace. I also used tapes on grief.
Praying always helps me, and keeping a journal can provide
a healing catharsis as well. Television can be diverting at times, but
since it is such a passive occupation, it might prove depressing. I
find that radio, especially National Public "Radio, provides a
welcome relief. Music of all types can be a real mood-elevator.
Pets, too, can be a source of comfort. My dogs run over
and paw me for attention at my first sign of tears. Who could resist
such unabashed affection?
Let others help you.
Reach out to others and allow them to help carry that heavy pain which
is constantly with you in the early days of grief. Stoicism will not
help, but there are many persons who will if you give them an idea of
your needs and desires. The outpouring of love you receive from family
and friends can be a tremendous source of comfort and unity.
When invitations come from friends and relatives, you
may find them difficult to accept, however. I find it best to accept
as many as possible. Realize that the telephone is a two-way instrument,
and that you may call people as well as expecting them to call you.
Some people will not know what to say to you. They may
even avoid you entirely. This is just a fact and you should not allow
it to hurt you too deeply. Expect changes in your relationships. Your
social life may not be couple-oriented to any great extent anymore.
Although your married friends want to include you, their life-style
is different. You can make valuable new friendships with other widowed
or single persons.
I cannot say enough good things about support groups.
I belong to two different parish-based groups. I also made a Beginning
Experience weekend (for widowed or divorced people) and a weekend retreat
on "Coping With Grief." Shared tears and laughter are healing;
trying to help others is a potent pain reliever.
Ease your adjustment as best you can.
At this time of change, you would be wise not to make hasty decisions
about anything - selling your home, dispensing with personal effects,
making major purchases, or any other significant changes.
Avail yourself of practical helps to ease your adjustment.
Our lawyer helped me through the legal mishmash after Dave's death.
Family friends and business associates also provided valuable advice.
Because this period of grief and adjustment can be so
stressful, you will need to maintain your strength with a nutritious
diet. And physical exercise, especially walking, helps to clear out
the cobwebs. Grieving is very fatiguing, so rest at night even if you
cannot sleep. Relaxation techniques might be helpful. Let yourself cry
when you need to. Allow yourself to be reflective, and don't worry if
you do not seem to be getting much accomplished for a while.
As you make adjustments in your life, you may find you
are developing greater independence. I have gained new confidence in
my own actions and decisions, and I like the feeling of overcoming natural
fears which might keep me from doing things. I feel pride and pleasure
about the new paths I am following in my education and my work.
Rely on your faith.
Whatever your religion, it can be your main strength in living on. When
Dave died, his brother Tom, who is a priest, and our four grown children
came immediately. Tom said Mass while I sat by the bed holding Dave's
hand, with the children gathered around. Suddenly, the sun rose outside
the window in a blaze of red and god. What a beautiful resurrection!
God had painted a picture I'm sure Dave appreciated as he joined his
heavenly Father - a Father he had known so well that as a child he had
called him "Skipper".
Walking with God through my grief has deepened my faith.
I never felt really angry with God because I knew that my loving God
did not "zap" me with this circumstance. God will walk with
you, too. Yet you must realize that your grief may not be finished at
some certain point you have in mind. At 18 months, I feel the loss with
even greater intensity at times. It does not last as long as before,
however.
If you are feeling "stuck" in grief, an understanding therapist
might be in order - especially if you have more than fleeting thoughts
of suicide. Mainly, I think it helps to consider that you are an integral
part of "God's plan and precious to God beyond measure.
Do not dwell on regrets.
The doctors had told me privately that Dave could live as long as six
months or as little as three. But he was determined to adopt a positive
attitude in hopes of getting well. In reply to telephone calls from
friends, I often heard him say, "Oh, I have just a 'touch of cancer!"
I did not want to tell Dave his cancer was terminal
because he obviously did not want to hear it. One night when I asked
him why he seemed to be shutting me out, he told me he did not intend
to, that he was just too ill to talk about it.
I now feel we missed something be not being able to
communicate as well about this as we always had about everything else.
But I try not to dwell on what I could have done better. I did the best
I could. So did he.
If you feel regretful about something you did or did
not do before your spouse died, try to be gentle with yourself. This
person who loved you so much would not judge you so harshly; neither
should you submit yourself to such painful hindsight.
Take hear.
I have days when it seems that such a big piece has been ripped from
my life that only a gaping hole is left. Yet I also have days of celebrating
new beginnings. My life and my roles are different now, and many of
the changes I have experienced are positive ones. I am learning every
day how to be a "creative survivor". And I trust that you
will too.
Erin Diehl is a social psychotherapist,
a spiritual director, and a free-lance writer.
She leads a parish support group for
widows and widowers.
It helps to consider that our loved ones are happy
- free of pain and hassles - and that we will be together again. Also,
if you died, would you want your loved ones to deeply mourn the rest
of their lives? You would want them to enjoy life as much as possible.
They want this for you now.
-Father Ken Czillinger "After
the First Year...Thoughts for the Bereaved"
But if grief is resolved, why do we still feel a
sense of loss come anniversaries and holidays, and even when we least
expect it? Why do we feel a lump in the throat, even six years after
the loss? It is because healing does not mean forgetting, and because
moving on with life does not mean that we don't take a part of our lost
loved one with us.
-Adolfo Quezada "By
Choosing to Confront Grief, We Can Overcome Our Loss," Daily
Star, Tucson, Arizona.
"I knew my life would never be the same again.
But I didn't know that it could somehow, someway, still be OK."
--(Mary Wiker, Letters)
