Grieving
Grieving- to morn the loss of a love one. How do we grieve and what is ‘to morn’? There is no prescribed formula and individually we all have our own coping mechanisms. How we control our mind set in dealing with grief, defines how quickly we can accept what has come to pass and how we get on with life. It is the morning after the passing of my father-in-law, and I am Happy!
What! WTF!! I hear you cry. I’m not happy in an uncaring, macabre, ‘the wicked witch is dead’ sense, but this is my coping mechanism. I channel all my positive memories about Alan to the front of my mind and it puts a smile on face. To lock this positive affirmation in my mind I need ‘reason’. My mind needs to understand ‘why’. Internally there is a battle. The finality of it all is somehow too difficult for a fragile mind. It can’t compute that we will never see that person again; that he is gone from our lives forever. The logic gate has closed, and the default setting is to open the flood gates of misery and self-pity.
But we are all adults, right?! We have responsibilities. We still have a job to go to, kids to pick up from school, meals to prepare…There is no time to wallow and stagnate in the cherished memories of a love one. We are forced to get on with life as if it were just a blip. Why? Because that’s just how life is and in many respects it’s a good thing. The hectic lifestyle that surrounds us provides a distraction from the gremlins of a fragile mind who are seizing this moment of weakness to bed down and feather the nest. Don’t let them!
This is not to say, be strong and don’t let your emotions control your life. Indeed, we all need time to grieve. We all need time to cry our system dry. It’s a healing process that’s completely natural and may even take years to fully bed down. My mum died of cancer 10 years ago and I still have my moments. We sat down as a family to watch the ABBA Mamma Mia film and a song caught me completely off guard. It sent me back to being a 10-year-old boy sitting with my mum in her MG sports car and driving to the beach. I choked, and now being a 47-year-old father of 3, I tried in vain to stifle my tears. I exited the room and cried my eyes out as though she had died yesterday!
I guess the passing of a loved one makes you question mortality and think more deeply about how precious life is. In my challenge to cope I analysed how I could change my mind set so I wasn’t overwhelmed by all the negative emotions poisoning my body. My conclusion was religion and faith.
I’m not a religious man, but dearly departed Alan was a Vicar, so, like it or not, church would play a role in my family life- albeit minor. If you think about it; Marriages, Christenings and funerals are possibly the most exposure any of us non-religious folk get to the church.
I am guarded against religion, because it seems incongruous that behind wars, power, wealth, and paedophiles is religion. That said, there are equally as many good things. So, if I were to take a ‘pick n mix’ attitude to religion to help me cope with grief it would be this:
We as Humans are not naturally programmed to accept that once you die that’s it. Gone…caput…niete…pushed down the garbage chute. We need hope. We need to believe that our loved ones go on to a better place. Whether we believe in heaven or not, it helps our minds to cope.
I have a vision of Alan standing at the front of the church as he lifts his hand to say, ‘rejoice’. It was an awkward moment as he wasn’t the most charismatic of personalities, but the smile on his face was infectious. I visualise it and it makes me happy, because he’s done his time in purgatory at the care home and now the gates of heaven are open to him and he has gone to meet his maker. Surely for someone who has faith this will be the most magical moment!
Maybe I am a non-believer, but boy does it help me if a train my mind to believe that he is now in a place of joy and happiness, talking with my mum, looking down on us and the grandchildren and guiding us through the difficult decisions that lay ahead.
As I write my final line a tear rolls down my cheek and momentarily the sun has poked her head through the clouds and once again I have a smile on my face!
What! WTF!! I hear you cry. I’m not happy in an uncaring, macabre, ‘the wicked witch is dead’ sense, but this is my coping mechanism. I channel all my positive memories about Alan to the front of my mind and it puts a smile on face. To lock this positive affirmation in my mind I need ‘reason’. My mind needs to understand ‘why’. Internally there is a battle. The finality of it all is somehow too difficult for a fragile mind. It can’t compute that we will never see that person again; that he is gone from our lives forever. The logic gate has closed, and the default setting is to open the flood gates of misery and self-pity.
But we are all adults, right?! We have responsibilities. We still have a job to go to, kids to pick up from school, meals to prepare…There is no time to wallow and stagnate in the cherished memories of a love one. We are forced to get on with life as if it were just a blip. Why? Because that’s just how life is and in many respects it’s a good thing. The hectic lifestyle that surrounds us provides a distraction from the gremlins of a fragile mind who are seizing this moment of weakness to bed down and feather the nest. Don’t let them!
This is not to say, be strong and don’t let your emotions control your life. Indeed, we all need time to grieve. We all need time to cry our system dry. It’s a healing process that’s completely natural and may even take years to fully bed down. My mum died of cancer 10 years ago and I still have my moments. We sat down as a family to watch the ABBA Mamma Mia film and a song caught me completely off guard. It sent me back to being a 10-year-old boy sitting with my mum in her MG sports car and driving to the beach. I choked, and now being a 47-year-old father of 3, I tried in vain to stifle my tears. I exited the room and cried my eyes out as though she had died yesterday!
I guess the passing of a loved one makes you question mortality and think more deeply about how precious life is. In my challenge to cope I analysed how I could change my mind set so I wasn’t overwhelmed by all the negative emotions poisoning my body. My conclusion was religion and faith.
I’m not a religious man, but dearly departed Alan was a Vicar, so, like it or not, church would play a role in my family life- albeit minor. If you think about it; Marriages, Christenings and funerals are possibly the most exposure any of us non-religious folk get to the church.
I am guarded against religion, because it seems incongruous that behind wars, power, wealth, and paedophiles is religion. That said, there are equally as many good things. So, if I were to take a ‘pick n mix’ attitude to religion to help me cope with grief it would be this:
We as Humans are not naturally programmed to accept that once you die that’s it. Gone…caput…niete…pushed down the garbage chute. We need hope. We need to believe that our loved ones go on to a better place. Whether we believe in heaven or not, it helps our minds to cope.
I have a vision of Alan standing at the front of the church as he lifts his hand to say, ‘rejoice’. It was an awkward moment as he wasn’t the most charismatic of personalities, but the smile on his face was infectious. I visualise it and it makes me happy, because he’s done his time in purgatory at the care home and now the gates of heaven are open to him and he has gone to meet his maker. Surely for someone who has faith this will be the most magical moment!
Maybe I am a non-believer, but boy does it help me if a train my mind to believe that he is now in a place of joy and happiness, talking with my mum, looking down on us and the grandchildren and guiding us through the difficult decisions that lay ahead.
As I write my final line a tear rolls down my cheek and momentarily the sun has poked her head through the clouds and once again I have a smile on my face!
No comments have been added yet.
