Laura Siegel, an invaluable member of The Aging Abundantly Community, has graciously offered to share some of her thoughts and experiences regarding the grieving process. Loss is something we all have, or will face. and Laura brings insight and compassion to this important conversation. I invite you to share your thoughts and/or experiences with Laura in a comment at the end of the post. Thank you for visiting. DS
My husband died shortly after his 74th birthday. We were married 53 years, and together for 57 years. He lived with lymphoma for about 10 years and had also dealt with prostate cancer, open heart surgery, and recently kidney cancer.
“Surely you knew he was going to die,” someone said to me. As if that would make a difference. The truth: It doesn’t.
COMMON GRIEF EXPERIENCES
I talk to many widows, and the truth is, it doesn’t matter whether your husband died suddenly in a car crash or lived 30 years with an illness, the loss tears your heart apart. This person has been your everything, a constant presence in your life. You know each other’s voices, smiles, touch and the shape and curve of each other’s bodies. And, you’ve come to count on each other for everything. Then, suddenly he’s gone, and the void is immense.
We talked about end-of-life issues and I was financially secure, but I was not prepared for the intensity of my feelings. It was a hundred times worse than anything I’d ever experienced. A friend of mine called it paralyzing when her own husband died. I have lost parents, my brother, a best friend, pets and even dealt with having cancer, but nothing prepared me for the loss of my husband.
A year before my husband died I expressed concern that I would not be able to handle the finances . He said, “You’re smart. You’ll do fine. It’s the emotional trauma that will be hard.” He was so right.
SUGAR-COATED GRIEF
I think we tend to sugarcoat things (I know I do) because we want people to stay in our lives (they don’t always) and we don’t want to sound like a depressed broken record. We truly want to believe that we are doing better. We hope that if we say it enough it will come true. In the months after he died I plastered Facebook with positive posts about meditation, listening to audiobooks, and returning to the pool after three weeks. And while this was true, there is so much I omitted. Even now as I write this I am tempted to sugarcoat the horrors of grief-probably as people have done for me. “You will come out a stronger person.“ “You are doing great.“
Before he died, a social worker recommended an app to my husband called Insight Timer and the guided meditations seemed to help him immensely. So the day he died I began doing them. Sometimes I would practice five guided meditations a day. This is the one that helped me the most and 2 1/2 years later I still practice it often:
Guided meditation for anxiety, grief, and stress by Heather Stang
People think that grief is just about missing our spouse. They believe that if we just keep busy, we will “move on.” I received this advice often. “Just keep busy”, and “Try harder.”
But grief is about so much more than missing our loved one.
ADJUSTING TO A NEW LIFE AFTER LOSS
Losing our person is about adjusting to a completely new life. Everything you once shared is gone. Everything! Not only household tasks or going places together, but every look, touch, and time you heard your name called from the other room has vanished from your life.
Holidays are no longer the same. Every birthday, anniversary, and major holiday evoke a feeling of loss. I am experiencing this now because our anniversary is coming up.
Some people say remember the good times. But memories are a mixed bag. I find that they often make me more melancholy than happy. And for every good memory, I now have memories that include giving away his clothes, and of his time in the hospital connected to tubes.
I lost my primary sense of security, the person I could count on to take me to the doctor when I was ill, give me emotional support, pay the taxes, maintain the car. Even the mail became something I dreaded. It might mean one more thing I had to do that he once did.
I became touch deprived. Yes I get a massage once a month, and yes people hug me occasionally, but it’s those every day small touches that go away. I found myself relishing the touch of the physical therapist this week.
I became voice deprived. Except for the TV, voice stimulation is gone. Yes, friends talk to me, but then they go home. I listen to audio tapes and meditation tapes just to hear a soothing voice talking to me.
GRIEF AND LOSS COMPOUNDED
Adding to the grief, family and friends go missing, often people you never expected to abandon you. This loss is challenging because while your person is dead, they are alive but not present.
People say to live in the moment. And while the moment can be watering the geraniums or eating a delicious lunch, the moment can also be waking up or going to sleep without him there. The moment can be going to the same medical center where he died. The moment can be listening to a song you both loved. Being in the moment can be lovely or it can be a trigger.
And yet, staying in the moment is really the only solution. There is nowhere to go. There is nowhere to escape. The grief will come when it will come. It will go when it will go. I have moments when I laugh and moments when I press his brown wool sweater into my face.
Right after my husband died I found myself thinking: “I want to be the very best me that I can be.“ I am practicing this moment to moment.
I am grateful for so much – the family and friends who have supported me, the sunshine, my garden, and good food. I am grateful to be alive, and I am trying my best to live in the moment, do the best that I can do and be the best that I can be.
Laura is the co-editor of the anthology, Out Of the Closet, Into Our Hearts: celebrating our gay family members. In 2016, her husband of 54 years died and she now helps other widows navigate grief on the road to healing. She has a blog at:
https://m.facebook.com/breathingintohealing/
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Laura, I appreciate your honesty I have never been in grief like you have, but feel the need to somehow prepare myself for the inevitability. My hubby has dementia and I lose a bit him from week to week. So sad. I hope when and if my time comes, someone will be around to help me through.
Laura, thank you for sharing your healing story. May you continue to live in the moment, and thank you for the reminder to do so!
Thank you so much Camilla. I so appreciate your response. I believe the best way to prepare is in practical matters such as end-of-life issues, finances, saving passwords, changing things into your name or at least knowing how to do that, having a list of all the people who help maintain your home, car, etc. This is so much easier to do before then after. I had a lot of resistance to this myself but my husband pushed me and I’m grateful for that. I’m so sorry your husband has dementia. Relish every moment with him. That’s the most important.
It seems a daunting task to not only survive such a loss, but to do so and still be able to have a meaningful life. My husband had a heart attack at 53 and it rocked me to my core. It was so unexpected and I thought we were “too young” to have to face the end of our time together. The experience forced me to take a hard look at myself and place my attention on learning to be more independent and self-reliant. Even now, 13 years later, I wonder how I would survive the heartbreak and the prospects of being on my own in my own frailty. Laura, you are speaking to many of us who want to know it is possible to remain standing, and your courage and strength of character shines stronger every day. Thank you for sharing your story with us.
Thank you so much Dorothy. Your comments mean a great deal to me. My husband had a very slight tightness in his chest when he was 50. He wasn’t even going to check it out but someone encouraged him to and a week later he had triple bypass surgery. His father died when he was 45 of a heart attack so we felt blessed that this was caught in time. It was a real wake up call for him but not so much for me. It’s taken me all this time to wake up and learn how to handle things independently.
I’m pretty sure many of us would discover that we’re not as independent as we think we are in your situation! It’s very clear you’re a fighter and a survivor, as hard as that may be!
Thank you so much for this touching and honest look at what loss, grief and loneliness really feel like after the death of someone close to you. You are right: we gloss over it and minimize the effect by cheerful, positive remarks. It’s as though we push away the unpleasantness of it. And then there are surrounding issues, too, like the friends who disappear. I am so glad that you addressed this entire topic — and did it so beautifully.
Thank you so much Christy. Your comment means a great deal to me. ❤️
My husband did not die but chose to leave me after 26 years. I was 49 years old. So many of the things you address are the same issues we deal with after divorce except everyone thinks all you need to do is “move on”. After all, “people get divorced every day”. The difference is instead of it being an unavoidable situation like death, he “killed” my marriage .. like a suicide that I was unable to prevent. And he is still here to turn the knife whenever he needs the rush of hurting me. I appreciate your comments and have had to figure out these steps .. trying to be ready for the end and figure out how to keep my life going for the sake of my son. Stupid comments, lost friends and being avoided in social situations including not being invited because I’m alone. Figuring out how to maintain my home, fix a faucet, hang a light, fix the toilet etc. Plus every single financial responsibility and every decision rests soley on me.
Thank you so much, Helen, from bringing up here the grief aspect of divorce. Divorce is a death, but one that needs to be processed and mourned in a different way. There is so much hurt to be healed before it is even possible to let go and mourn. A broken relationship leaves haunting memories and pile of unfinished business and, as you mention, often changes the friends landscape. People tend to pick sides. Learning to go it alone also becomes necessary at a time when we feel emotionally fractured. My heart goes out to all who struggle through relationship issues, having had them myself. A positive outcome is often that we discover we are far stronger than we ever knew we were and more capable. We have an opportunity to seek new and better friendships and build a life that we love. It takes time, support and a willingness to heal one moment at a time. I hope you’ll join our community Helen. You are not alone.