“Till death does us part…” I repeated. Those words seemed to echo throughout the huge college chapel following my promise and then my bride’s commitment. The witnesses, family and friends, of our wedding stood by smiling. Our parents sat with proud looks on their faces. In all honestly, however, I only viewed those words as a symbol of commitment. I did not really think I would experience that part of those important words, let alone do it twice.
Ruth and I had never been happier than we were that delightful day in July.
Our wedding crowned three years of getting acquainted through writing letters and occasional long distance phone calls. Looking back this strengthened our relationship because it forced both of us to express our hearts, feelings and beliefs on paper without the distraction of the physical area. That was great for my growth both emotionally with her and spiritually with the Lord.
The proof of the depth of our relationship revealed itself in the ensuing years of life. We were not only committed to each other but we understood each other. We did, indeed, marry our best friend. To keep our growth together on a “roll” we spent every one of our wedding anniversaries—alone—discussing the “state of our union.”
But the day would come when I dreaded our tradition. It was the summer following Ruth’s cancer diagnosis, surgeries, chemotherapy and our loss of “normal.” Those events proved to be the biggest challenge to our relationship to date. Up to this point our love had been a mutual give and receive. Now Ruth was so drained physically and emotionally that she literally had nothing left to give—either to me or our four young children. Thirty-three is a young age to be facing a life threatening disease.
Finally, for the first time, I sensed our relationship changing and it hurt me in that realization. Ruth was no longer able to contribute to our relationship as before. And, in brutal honesty, I found myself questioning my love for her…simply because things seemed to be one-sided for the first time.
I was preparing for my first experience teaching the book of I John at the school. Opening up 1 John 4:10-11, “Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also to love one another” God spoke to my spirit, “See, I loved those who did not love back and I acted on their behalf. You are doing that for Ruth and it is okay!” I dropped to the floor sobbing.
Soon after my dreaded “state of our union” meeting came. Sure enough, Ruth asked how I had been during the throes of the hardest days that winter. I hesitantly, yet openly shared with her how I had struggled and how God met me. She simply said, “I thought so. It’s okay.”
The following six years were filled with days and weeks of hope and disappointment. We faced treatments and then recurrences, over and over.
The most memorable time happened again during our “state of our union” talk that next July. Following a special day on the Eastern shore of Lake Michigan, we sat talking. During a warm embrace, Ruth softly said, “I have never felt so at one with you.”
Three short months later, I watched her take her last breath. I didn’t know a human could hurt so much. Within days I became aware of this hole in my soul that seemed permanent.
Losing a spouse has many aspects to it that are not always understood by many. Indeed, there is the death and physical loss of that person leaving a void in your life. Theirs is also a loss of intimacy in communication. I had no one to tell even small things to that Ruth would appreciate hearing. My biggest loss, however, was the loss of the relationship. It seemed that in addition to grief due to the death of a friend, I had lost the close relationship we had. Love songs were next to impossible for me to listen to.
A year later, God brought along a godly widow lady to the school where I was who absolutely swept me off my feet. What a beautiful lady!
The next year Judith and I found ourselves in a large church in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada with six sons on one side and two daughters and Judith’s sister on the other. Again, the room echoed our vows, “Till death do us part.”
These words had much deeper meaning to both of us. We had both experienced this hard truth to the fullest. However, even with that, we idealistically viewed the reality of it happening again as being a lifetime away.
Now, the process of blending eight teenagers became twice the task either of us had imagined. Yes, the volume was an issue. When you bring two families together they bring their baggage along. That meant twice as many problems. The growth and mistakes of our kids only drove us to the Lord and to each other. We learned early on to talk about everything, no matter how hard the subject. We reviewed the development of each of our kids every three to six months.
The joys and challenges we experienced in our successful blending of families from two different countries and cultures will have to be addressed at a different time. I need to fast forward sixteen years from Judith and my wedding.
Judith’s health began to be of concern. We spent five years chasing symptoms from doctor to doctor. We intentionally worked hard on her health, even though we did not know what we were fighting. Once again we faced this issue together.
She had to have an emergency surgery. During which the doctor called me in the waiting room. He said, “Mr. Knapp, I am sorry. I am seldom surprised … I found a very mean looking cancer tumor in Judith that came from somewhere else.” I immediately knew she was going to die. I sat down and sobbed uncontrollably for nearly an hour. That continued daily from that day in August ‘till Christmas day.
The next day a full body scan exposed cancerous spots on her lungs and a large, stage-four tumor on her pancreas. With that news Judith asked, “Does that mean I am going to die?” I teared up and nodded “yes” as I leaned over for a long sobbing embrace.
Judith and I talked about everything. This was no different. The next four days in the hospital were full of time we spent mourning her impending death together.
Gradually we communicated with our eight children and their families that they needed to do whatever it took to come see Mom/Grandma soon before pain medication made it hard for her to be alert. I watched, monitored and participated in each one’s mourning. Some of our grandchildren wept the deepest in my arms.
About a week before she left for heaven, I was talking to her quietly at her bedside and a tear trickled down the side of her face. Through her medicated fog she whispered, “I’m sorry I have to die.” Now the tears were running down my cheeks. I assured her it was okay and that I would be fine. I gave her permission to go on without me and that I would be along soon.
Early Sunday morning late in October, Judith leaped into the arms of Jesus.
I was alone again. The loneliness was deafening.
A classic question was posed to me by a pastor friend and his wife. How can we as a couple prepare for such a tragic event as one of us dying “before our time”?
First, be committed to developing the deepest, most open relationship possible. Keeping your emotional distance to possibly reduce unknown future pain is not a good idea.
Next, I would encourage you to have a policy of open communication, even when things are great. That way, it won’t be a new event to add to the struggle of tragedy. Also, it should be a given practice of walking with God closely when things are normal or “easy.” That way you won’t have to learn how to trust Him AND go through tough times at the same time.
Have conversations about “if I go first” at some time or another… better sooner than later. This could help your spouse greatly with hard decisions should you go to heaven first. Live each day with the appreciation for your spouse like you could lose them tomorrow. Keep all relationships current. To this day, I have no relationship regrets with either Ruth or Judith because we lived out our relationships with short, current accounts.
I also recommend couples be willing to take the message of 1 Corinthians 7:4 further than the bedroom. Help each other take care of their temple (physical body).
Finally, don’t be afraid to educate yourself about the grieving process. “Till death do us part” is no joke. It is for real and should be considered seriously.
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Making a difference in your world by being a better friend;
Grief is indeed a difficult subject to face. For most of us it does not attract our attention as a topic that we naturally wish to be an expert on. Yet, coping with loss qualifies as a natural part of life. Because you have read this book, you are ahead of many of your peers and relatives in your ability to deal with grieving.
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Knowing what to say, or not say, often comes through a better understanding of the grieving process. Such understanding does not always have to be obtained through personal experience. We can benefit from that of others willing to be honest about their feelings and journey following a loss.
Hopefully the experiences and observations collected in this book have increased your awareness of the grieving process. You are now more skillfully equipped to be a better friend to those around you who experience loss. Most of us will encounter at least one person within the next year who will be called on to process some sort of loss. It may even be you.
Comments of comfort should not be geared to “fix” the problem of grief for the bereaved. Commonly, too many who have not dealt with the mourning process will attempt to avoid it when faced with the grief of others. Grief cannot be fixed, it needs to be processed. So, the first thing we can do is to acknowledge the pain instead of trying to make it go away fast.
Grief is the acknowledgement of loss emotionally. It is mostly a heart problem, not a mind challenge. Heart statements go farther in comforting the bereaved than head statements early on. Logically explaining away grief does little in soothing the hurt in the heart. Mind logic can play a part in long-term processing of loss but it comes up short when the most encompassing pain at the moment is emotional.
Mourners are sensitive to unsupportive comments that seem to minimize their grief. Grieving comes from deep within us. Denying it or diminishing it can be perceived as a personal criticism. Such implications may cause guilt and withdrawal on the part of the grieving and be a hindrance to their ability to process their loss victoriously. Allowing them to grieve will uphold them better.
Avoiding grievers socially, or avoiding the topic of their loss, stifles their grieving process. Grief can become the proverbial “elephant in the room” with grievers. They feel it even more than their friends. Excluding them from social events and conversations only accentuates their pain. Avoidance does not soften the pain for them. To eliminate the topic of their grieving experience and the one they have lost is to ignore the most important thing that is happening in their life. Good friends don’t do that.
Avoid time limits. Setting a time limit on how and how long any one person is allowed to grieve over a particular loss can be demeaning to the griever. They can feel like you are being disrespectful towards their loss or loved one. Be aware of timing in words of comfort. You need to be discerning in knowing when to make certain comments to a griever. Being a better friend revolves around listening and supporting their journey, instead of limiting it.
The grieving are not looking for logic statements of being told what to do. What they need is a listening ear. No one likes to be “bossed” around under the best of circumstances. To “command” a person who is grieving in an attempt to “talk them out of it” may only drive them away from you as a person with no effective help to their pain. Instructive statements must be well-timed and presented in the form of suggestions or examples. Grievers need to be heard more than directed.
Theological lectures are seldom of much relief for the pain of new grief. Theological arguments at the time of loss can be misconstrued as a rebuke. This can come across as rejection and not a form of comfort. Religious beliefs are often embraced in the mind through the logic door. Emotional pain is seldom soothed deeply through that avenue. Again, timing can be very important if this topic needs to be addressed.
Consolation for the bereaved needs to be more about their personal pain than about the one they have lost. The temptation is very strong to talk more about the person or item lost, than about the needs of the griever. The deepest problem is the emotional pain inside. Logical statements about the person or items lost can be of help. However, if we ignore the heartache being experienced, we will not help our friend to work through their journey as effectively.
Comments that might be interpreted as a judgmental attitude are of no comfort to the bereaved. No one likes to be told they are wrong or at fault for the loss. The bereaved commonly cope with forms of guilt in the normal flow of the process. It is no help to add blame to their pain. They are at a very vulnerable time in their lives and your words must be chosen carefully.
It is common for the supporting friend to feel a certain amount of discomfort but this shouldn’t be a hindrance. Remember that your words of comfort need to revolve around the feelings of the bereaved. Many of the “What Not to Say” comments were blurted out by would-be comforters uneasy with their own feelings. It’s helpful to stay away from statements that begin with, “I always say” and “you should just” to grievers. Keep your attention on the emotional state of your friend.
Recognizing the griever’s present pain has more value than attempts to empathize by comparing to your past losses. The tendency to “one up” on a griever in an effort to sympathize with them usually results in a comparison game that can diminish the pain of the griever. Also, since each person grieves differently, it is not usually beneficial to make comparisons but simply to seek understanding of the mourner’s experience.
Knowing the right thing to say is only half of the responsibility of being a supportive emotional caregiver. The other half revolves around the doing. I am truly grateful to the people in my life who not only knew what to say but followed through with the supportive action. Many of my friends and family were active the day and weeks following the death of each of my wives. Others called me months later asking to go for a walk and talk, or go out to eat. My family openly talked with each other and me about their mom’s memories and how much they missed her. I was asked often by acquaintances to speak publicly about my grieving journey.
THE REST OF THE STORY
Life goes on. Mine has indeed progressed in fine style. The evidence that I have “practiced what I preach” about the mourning process becomes apparent with the developments in my life beyond my grieving period. I am living proof that the suggestions you have read in this book work and have merit.
I documented the points of progress in the grieving and healing process by writing a “progress report” to my children. This public diary served as a teaching tool for the family on grief and a victory record for me.
The following year after Judith’s death, after much re-definition of who I am, my emotions and focus in life began to settle to a new level. My vision to write this book was established. I received a refreshed job description in my career work. I moved out of the house where Judith died. With help from one of my daughters, I established a profile on Christian Mingle.
Each of the new, solid developments in my life was possible because my emotions had been given clear and ample time to grieve fully by my “leaning into” the process and having those around me who gave me permission to do so with their support.
Many of these changes have given me a new, full and purposeful life. First of all, I met Crystal Wacker. What a lady! She has entered my life with love and wit that brightens every day. Our marriage has completed my life at a whole new level. Her support for me in life’s challenges and accomplishments has been invaluable. In addition to her continued work as editor of Reach Up Magazine, she helps me in my writing and speaking engagements.
Some of the basics about the mourning process
What’s wrong with me? It’s like I have lost control of who I am.
Boy, did I have a lot to learn. My views about the process of grieving had to be overhauled. My erroneous views permeated the experience, attitude and thinking. I had to admit that the way I viewed grieving was all wrong. Instead of seeing the process as a means to added strength, I had seen it as weakness. But now when I hear an insightful or deep truth or concept, I wonder what loss the author experienced to learn that. Instead of seeing grieving as a process towards healing, I had concluded it to be an event to “get over.”
One of the motivations I have for penning this book comes from the large number of people who have admitted to me that they “Didn’t know what to say.” Our society has collected huge volumes of information on how to aid others who experience physical problems from the common cold to a broken leg. However, when it comes to dealing with a broken heart we draw a blank and often pull away.
Yet our emotions are just as much a part of what it means to be alive as our physical bodies. Surely, life and loss require us to learn the skill of working through losses that can negatively affect how we feel in spirit.
HEART VS. MIND
Understanding a few of the basics about the grieving process (i.e. a broken heart) can go a long way in aiding us in knowing what to say to those who are encountering losses life throws at them. The list of losses that merit being classified as “grievable” is much larger than many would admit. The following compilation is far from complete, but it should broaden the scope of our understanding:
• Death of a spouse
• Death of a relative or friend
• Death or lost custody of a child
• Death of an cherished pet
• Marriage or Divorce
• Loss of a friendship
• Moving to a new community
• Stages of the “empty nest”
• Loss of a job or position
• Loss of health
• Major financial changes
• Legal problems
• Starting or finishing school
Some would look at my partial list and respond, “Well, isn’t that all just a part of life?” Yes, it is. That’s the point exactly. We all have and do experience loss as a part of everyday life. However, we don’t always deal with the grieving process well. The negative effects of undealt with grief can be a hindrance to our emotions and spirit.
Misconceptions about the grieving process are diverse. Here are some I had to work through. I am sure you will relate to some of them.
GRIEVING IS NOT WRONG
My biggest misconception came from an attitude that grieving was negative and showed weakness. I would have to go so far as to say I viewed it as sin. One thing that may have contributed to this wrong attitude may have come from watching my well-meaning grandmother deal with my mom’s mourning following my dad’s death.
A major event happened without warning. Grandmother showed up at our house unannounced. As had been the situation for two weeks, my mom was still in bed in the middle of the day with a newborn at her breast. The house was a mess from the unattended activities of four other children. Instead of concern, my grandmother yelled at my mom requiring her to get out of bed and stop her grieving. She complied and that emotional event left an impression on my young heart that my mom was doing something wrong. (More in chapter 4.)
My grandmother could have accomplished the same thing by simply cleaning the house and then talking to my mother. She could have said comforting things like, “You must be really hurting inside right now. Let me help you so you can get back on your feet. Come sit in this chair and feed the baby while I make your bed.”
GRIEVING IS NORMAL
Realizing that grieving is a normal and healthy response to loss set me free to embrace the process and accept the characteristics of mourning as okay and right. I am thankful for a couple of mentors who came along-side me after Ruth’s death. They showed me the value of leaning into the process instead of resisting it. First I realized that grief is simply an emotional acknowledgement of loss. It is mostly a heart problem and not a mind challenge.
Cliché comments like, “You have to be strong” or “God doesn’t give us more than we can bear” often feed the misconception that grieving is negative and wrong. Instead of implying folks struggle against their hurts, you can be more understanding with comments like, “I’m sorry this has happened to you” or “You must hurt (or miss them) very much right now.”
PEOPLE GRIEVE DIFFERENTLY
In listening to other men who had gone through the loss of their wives, I realized that people go through the grieving process differently. I even saw this in myself. I discovered there were differences in how I worked through my mourning time after Ruth died in contrast to the way I experienced grief after Judith died. As I reviewed what was different and why, it became apparent that many factors were not the same: I was older, I no longer had kids at home, I had done it before, and I talked to more people about it the second time. Many things can affect how a person goes through the grieving process. A few include:
• The personality type of the person mourning
• The definition of the relationship between the bereaved and the loss/person lost
• The way the loss took place, whether over time or suddenly
• The coping skills of the griever and the stability of their mental health
• The support team available
• The culture and religious perspective of the one who experienced loss
• The social and financial situation they are in, or come into, based on the loss
• The age of the grieving person
A PROCESS NOT AN EVENT
Another important realization for me was to accept that grieving is a process and not an event. My personality wanted to experience it as an event, fix it and get on with life. Not so! As waves of emotion continued to well up month after month, I realized that, little by little, I was letting go of my losses with each “first” life event after my wife’s death. The first holiday, the first time her birthday came up, the first time seeing mutual friends without her, and the first wedding anniversary. These were all events in the process that required time to happen and heal.
Beware of implying that a mourner should “snap out of it” too quickly. “This is behind you now,” and “It’s time to get on with your life,” are both comments that imply just that. Prematurely stated comments to that effect can do more harm than good. Listening closely to the bereaved within the first year of a loss can reveal what comments will help them most. Beware of making comments that begin with “you should” or even “you will.” Better would be statements like, “I’m not sure what to say, but I want you to know I care.”
I experienced the re-establishment of a new identity after the loss of my job and position. I had to rebuild a new set of friends and lifestyle after we moved across country as a family. It is all a process and not an event.
A NATURAL EMOTIONAL RESPONSE
I came to see grief as an emotional condition that’s as natural as bleeding when my arm gets cut. As a man, that was hard to acknowledge at first. I remember thinking when I was younger that if my wife’s parents died, she would really cry a lot. I refused to think my emotions would be “reduced” to sobbing.
But the moment I watched Ruth take her last breath, I was suddenly overwhelmed with an emotion I didn’t know was possible. It completely controlled me for a time. My heart was broken and it was as real as any other human hurt.
Mental logic such as, “Look what you have to be thankful for,” or “She is in a better place” did nothing for my hurting heart. I found more solace in comments like, “I really miss her too.”
FEELING OF HOPELESSNESS
Hopelessness is a word that accurately describes the hurt of the grieving. The inability to reverse the loss can be devastating. I could not bring my wife back from the dead. I could not get my position and job back. I could not recover the money I lost in a business deal. I could not bring my friends back into my life after they moved away. Things were out of control and it was scary.
Knowing what to say when helping the bereaved with the sense of hopelessness depends on the circumstances and timing. In many cases reassurances that times will be better in the future and that this hardship will pass are in order. Other times the best thing to say would be, “It must really hurt for you to be going through this now.”
Comments that minimize or gloss over the loss are of little help to the griever, especially near the time of the loss. “Things will be better,” “You can always have another child,” “You’ll get another job,” or “You will find another wife” are comments that do nothing to relieve the broken heart. A simple, “I’m sorry for your loss” is better than attempting to predict the future.
GRIEF IS ABOUT THE GRIEVER
The grieving process is about the pain of the griever and not the one lost. Try to identify with the hurt the mourner is going through instead of logically dealing with the one (or thing) lost. No one really knows how any other person feels or what it is like for them. We can be the most help by focusing on helping them identify and often express their feelings with the goal of healing and victory.
A comment that can actually enrage a mourner is “I know how you must feel.” WRONG. Even if you have experienced a similar loss, you really don’t know exactly how someone else is feeling. There will be unknown variables that can affect the way loss grips another person. Beware of comparisons in an effort to minimize their pain. Acknowledgement of their pain is more helpful than trying to redefine yours.
IT TAKES TIME
Grieving takes time to process. Both the bereaved and those who help them must allow for the time factor. However, the amount of time required varies greatly from person to person. Many people advised me to not make any major decisions for 12 months. That may be a generalized statement, but it can be very inappropriate to demand of all grievers. Some people intently work through their grieving process in months where others require years. When seeking to aid someone who has experienced a loss, beware of predetermining a time frame for them.
Instead of saying, “So, are you doing better now?” or “You look like you are on the mend,” ask your mourning friend, “How is today going for you?” This will give more room for the ups and downs of the process without making them feel wrong if they are having a bad day.
True, time does heal the mourner. When processed well, grieving does come to a conclusion. There can be a certain amount of comfort from knowing that the hurt felt today will not be forever. It is also true that time does not completely erase memories or even a bit of sadness.
That truth was shared with me from a total stranger a few weeks after Ruth’s death. The shop keeper/owner was obviously approaching retirement. His friendly demeanor made it easy to share my recent experience of loss. Upon hearing my story he simply stared out the window and recalled his wife’s death ten years before. “Yes,” he continued, “you never really get over the loss. It is just that the pain and difficult memories fade in time.”
It is interesting to note that the Bible even connects mourning with time. “To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven. … A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.” New King James Version, Ecclesiastes 3.1, 4.
Time alone is not enough to process one’s pain. Some steps, however, cannot be totally ignored forever. Actions are required to victoriously emerge one day from the pit of despair. Not processing grief well is like sneezing while holding your nose and shutting your mouth. You can blow something else out!
One action step I struggled with concerned experiencing all the “firsts” that followed my wife’s death. These included the first time seeing friends since my loss, the firsts of each major holiday, the first spring day, the first social event, the first time going to familiar places, the first anniversary of my loss, and even the first time having a meal with my family after my wife’s funeral. Being able to experience a one-year cycle of life, and going through all the “firsts,” could possibly be one of the reasons that twelve months is generally promoted in the grieving process.
I also had to process the scope of my loss. For many, coming to grips with the permanence of their loss becomes one of the hardest actions. Life as one knows it has stopped. Resulting changes required by one’s loss, such as help with household chores, companionship, intimacy, help with decisions, can take time and struggle. Identifying these losses and the required changes is where long conversations can aid in the dissecting of the details of one’s loss. Consequently, grief can actually be layered and needs to be peeled back like an onion.
Often, identifying with the struggles of the bereaved can only be acquired by being with them. “Call me if there is anything I can do,” only confuses the mourner. They will never call you. First, they could feel “weak” if they admitted need. Second, they often aren’t thinking as clearly as usual, making a simple call to a friend for help an impossibility. I suggest you show up at their place (or make a phone call) and say, “I’ve been thinking about you and just felt I should come by.”
With the loss of my wife, I needed to realize that I lost more than just a family member. I lost my lover. I lost my best friend. I lost all the dreams for the future we had. I lost my connection to certain friends. I lost a relationship of intimacy. Each of these losses required adjustment by me. I felt like someone had torn apart my Lincoln Log house I had built over the years and I now needed to rebuild it. But many of the core pieces were missing.
DOING LIFE AGAIN
The days immediately following a loss can be a blur or even a fog, but life goes on. A friend, Michael, described it this way. “So how do you live, how do you survive? You focus on the “have-tos” first. I have to work. I have to shower. I have to eat. I have to keep up the house. I have to take care of the others in the household that are hurting just as much or more than I am. I have to hold them, comfort them. Focus on helping them get through this, while dealing with the reality that such a big part of our lives has been torn from us. That’s all there is for a while. Down times are the worst. Grief, mourning, pain, tears come. My pain, pain to my kids, pain to everyone who feels the loss seems overwhelming. Focus on things that matter; things that make a difference. Songs on the radio that you sang together bring tears again. Life will never be the same!”
GRIEF AND IDENTITY
People respond differently by suddenly having the stigma or identity of being the one who has experienced a loss. Taking on the title of widow vs. married, unemployed vs. having a job, homeless vs. having a secure abode, single again vs. married, or even childless vs. cuddling a baby becomes a struggle in and of itself. This new identity is required to fully find release from the pain of the event. It can be part of the process to freedom.
The pastor of the church we were attending was a great counselor for me during Ruth’s seven-year illness and death. I would often go and just tell him everything that was going on. One time, just before she died, I was in his office reviewing the events of the week. The doctors had sent her home from the hospital to die. He sensed that I was about to explode but could not. He wisely and lovingly said, “David, Ruth is dying.” His stating that stark and awful truth released my emotions. I found that acknowledgement necessary to help me process my loss after she died.
Accepting the new identity that loss demands, however, needs to be processed well. I recall observing my mother’s response to being “the poor widow” with five kids. She actually got to where she enjoyed the pity that identity offered. She actually became good at reminding people that she was widowed so they would possibly pity her. This became a hindrance to her healing.
In contrast, I recall the day about three months after Judith died when I sensed I was beginning to accept my singleness. It seems that from the time of Judith’s funeral till that day, I could not be content to let a conversation rest with someone who did not know me until I made them aware of the fact that I was recently widowed. The identity of being a recent widower held me captive. Then, one evening, I was at a concert and struck up a conversation with the gentleman sitting beside me. When I got home I realized that I did not even mention anything about my being a recent widower. I was simply me, a single man. It felt freeing.
A person is now faced with the challenge of building a new identity, starting over. This can be scary. It requires effort. Who they are now, after their loss, needs to be redefined. This can include things like making new friends, adjusting their social calendar, maybe visiting places and people they have not seen before, and it may even mean changes in wardrobe or decorating that reflect them now. Often, part of the struggle is getting past the question, “Would my loved one approve?” or “Am I being disloyal to them by changing?”
As the griever passes through this part of the process, you can help them by changing the nature of your questions. Instead of asking how they are doing with the loss of their loved one, begin asking specific questions about them. Of course, talking about their loved one is always in order for their healing. Eventually asking specific questions about them will be helpful as they establish a new identity. “What kind of music do you like these days?” or “Would you like to go out with some friends this Friday?” can be starters. One couple at my church asked me regularly what movies I was enjoying lately. It helped that they were asking about ME and who I was now.
This may seem like it should go without saying: Grief hurts. However, I didn’t really know to what extent it hurts until I experienced it firsthand. The pain of the mourner comes from deep inside them. It cannot be fixed quickly, nor should we think they “aren’t doing well” when this pain shows up.
Six months after Judith died, I was invited to have lunch with a hospice chaplain who himself had lost his wife about the same time as me. Someone who knew me and saw me weekly had told him I needed to talk because I wasn’t “handling things well.” At the end of the two-hour meal, the chaplain leaned back in his seat and admitted, “I asked to meet with you today because I heard you weren’t doing well. The truth is you have helped me beyond belief. Thanks.”
It made me wonder why this other friend who saw me more often thought I wasn’t handling things well. As I reviewed our visits, I realized what had happened. The friend who saw me weekly witnessed me tearing over easily and regularly in public. He concluded, albeit inaccurately that it must mean I was not doing well. In reality, because I had the freedom to show, my occasional painful moments, I was actually doing great in terms of working through the process.
Another important thing in understanding grief and pain is the truth in the statement that “hurting people hurt people.” As you strive to help those you know who grieve, please give room for them to express themselves. Sometimes in fits of pain they can hurt others. This may not even be intentional. An understanding heart and a polite, timely word would be much better than judgment, criticism or pulling away from them.
NOT A QUICK FIX
The list of helpful and not so helpful comments I heard during the viewing and funerals of both my wives is confusing. Many came from an effort to “fix” or help relieve my grief. If someone does not feel they have such a statement they feel like they “don’t know what to say.” Grief does not have a “quick fix.” Grief only needs to be heard and identified, in most cases. Listening is better than talking. Statements of the loss are better than logic for why or results of the loss.
NO PRESCRIBED LIST
My personality likes predictability and lists. It frustrated me when I heard others describe their journey and I noted differences. I wondered if it was just me or them that was missing something. I finally came to the realization that although grief patterns exist, there is no such thing as a definite checklist of things every mourner must go through to process their loss well.
This helps explain why some people would question whether I was really doing well if I had not experienced a certain thing (i.e. anger, guilt, blame, “WHY?”, etc.). Knowing possible feelings like this can be helpful to identify what a person is going through and accept it. However, to use any set of expectations as a checklist, much less judge a person on how well he or she is doing, can put undue stress on your relationship by adding wrong expectations.
ONE’S FAITH CAN BE CHALLENGED
I was recently interviewed over the Internet for an online TV talk show. During the interview a viewer texted in, “How did you handle your “Why God?” question?” I realize that often times this is one of the first questions grievers ask. My answer was not as some would have expected. (See the complete response in chapter 12).
One’s worldview, especially regarding the spiritual side of man, tends to emerge during times of loss due to death. The “why” questions bring out fundamental beliefs, or the lack thereof, regarding basic human experiences from “origin” to “purpose” to “conclusions” surrounding human existence. Grievers often express their questions amidst their hurts. This topic can be a source of comfort for many but a source of distress for others. Your sensitivity to the griever in this area is crucial in helping process and move on to victory.
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Grief is the acknowledgement of loss emotionally. It is mostly a heart problem, not a mind challenge.
In the last decade the number of single men over the age of 65 has increased by 21%, due in part to the closing gap in the life expectancy of men and women. With this increase of men who have experienced loss in returning to singleness, what do we say to them?
While women who lose their husbands often speak of feeling abandoned or deserted, widowers tend to experience the loss “as one of dismemberment, as if they had lost something that kept them organized and whole,” Michael Caserta, chairman of the Center for Healthy Aging at the University of Utah, said by e-mail.
Men often struggle in sharing their deep feelings, especially negative ones. So, while it is effective to ask a lady how she is feeling after the death of someone close, it would be more productive to ask a man, “What did you do?” Then if they don’t have any ideas, you could suggest some things for them to do in working through their grief.
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