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"Facing Grief: How to grieve the death of a loved one"
Sandra King knows grief. At 43, after a year of marriage, she found herself widowed. She knows the pain of facing shattered dreams, and the effort it takes to deal with the depression that follows. Now, adjusted to the loss, she remembers the fatigue and anger, and how those reactions recycled through a single day. And she knows that, with time, surviving grief is possible.
Since becoming a certified grief counselor, King has made it her mission to share this message of hope through her bereavement support groups in Berwyn and Wynnewood. “I see miraculous changes,” she says. “I see how people can go on and gradually, very gradually, make new lives for themselves.”
Grief is so painful, says King, because it represents the loss of something we hold precious. Many of us experience grief at an early age when a favorite toy disappears, but the feelings of abandonment, fear and devastation are multiplied when caused by a death. Experts have developed guidelines to help steer us toward acceptance of a loss, but at the core of that success is our willingness to work through the pain and find a renewed interest in life.
“I can say that it’s not easy,” says King. “The last thing I was thinking about was the future. You evolve very slowly. Eventually you become somebody else who can handle what’s happening. When a spouse dies, you still feel like you’re married.”
Some choose to not deal with a loss, but it’s a risky option. Grief doesn’t go away because we ignore it. In fact, grief entrenches, waiting to be addressed. If not given the opportunity, our bodies can force the issue by producing any number of physical ailments.
The better response for grievers is to face the loss, and to realize that getting over it will be slow, hard work. Grieving takes considerable energy. It’s like walking up the side of a mountain and getting winded after just a few steps. While grief is universal, each griever will face their own triggers and responses, such as sleep disturbances, indecision and irritability.
King struggled with a loss of concentration when her husband died, and took a sabbatical from her role as a licensed professional counselor. Through some friends of a cousin, she accepted a sales job in a jewelry store. “I had never done any selling, but it was good for me because it gave me stability. I had to get up every day. I had to put makeup on. I couldn’t cry while waiting on the customers,” she says. “I also volunteered with a woman’s organization. Volunteering gets you out of yourself, it makes you feel like you have control over something and that you are making the world a better place.”
Doris Kimmel, 69, of Ridley Park agrees. She lost her husband, Harry, five years ago to prostate cancer, and has since volunteered with Taylor Hospice in Ridley Park to return some of the comfort she received. Kimmel also sews lap robes for an area nursing home and writes “lots of encouraging notes” to those working through a loss.
“When someone dies, you have to learn to live through it. It’s not pleasant, but that’s the way it is,” says Kimmel. “I think the biggest thing is to give to others. It’s ridiculous to sit and worry about things.”
Yet Kimmel remembers the early days of grief. She feels fortunate that she was able to begin the process during Harry’s final days. “The hospice staff would come, I’d show them out and then get all choked up. I knew death was coming,” she says. “I cried a lot, but towards the end I prayed a lot that God would take him.”
Kimmel is comfortable with her progress. Though she no longer bursts into tears “for no reason,” she still grieves for the man who shared her life for 42 years. “It’s different now. I don’t cry, but little things set me off,” she says.
The first year after a loss is especially hard. Each day is an anniversary. "You can say, 'Last year we were doing this," King says. "A year is nothing. It takes a year at least to get back in the groove. Sometimes in the second year people panic because they think they're always going to be sad. I encourage people to keep journals."
Studies show that people who write a few times a week for as little as 15 minutes can handle problems better. "People come to me and say they feel the same way they did on day one," she says. "I tell them to go read their journals. They realize how far they’ve come.”
Though King offers numerous support groups for widows of all ages, she also specializes in supporting parents working through the loss of a child. She has found it the most difficult type of loss for her clients to accept. Some, in fact, are never able to let go. “Especially in the death of a child, there’s always going to be a sense of sadness over life,” says King.
A year after her toddler's death, Ann Anastasi of Philadelphia admits that her pain is still intense. Even with the support of weekly meetings with a grief counselor, Ann has been unable to jump back into life. She’s stuck in her grieving process because she wants her son back in her arms. “In a bizarre way, grief is a connection to a loved on," she says. "A part of me is afraid to let grief go.’”
But letting go doesn’t mean that we’ve stopped loving the person. Letting go means only that we’ve accepted that we can’t control life, and that we’re willing to accept what each day offers. To let go is not to regret the past, but to grow and live for the future.
Anastasi's therapist has suggested that she let herself take a daily 15-minute break from her grief. “She compares my not moving on to staring into the sun," she says. "Humanly, it’s just too much.”
If someone remains stuck in their grieving, they haven't started the process, says King. Taking those first painful steps towards acceptance can be the hardest. Support groups can provide the perfect environment for opening up by giving grievers the sense that they’re not alone; that they’re not going crazy. Feelings are normalized, but not minimized. Those who share in the group--when they feel ready--will have a greater sense of belonging, and move more readily along the phases of grief.
"The benefit of a support group is that you don't have to expend a lot of energy explaining your feelings," says King. "It's a place where you can get a lot of information and, in a safe way, reconnect with people. It's a way to practice social skills in a safe environment."
Others grieve by carrying an object that belonged to their loved one, by visiting their graves, by spending time in their spaces (such as sitting in a favorite chair) or planting something that will live on. Kimmel finds comfort in wearing the wedding ring that Harry was so proud to present to her, and she often wears the terry robe that hospice used to wrap him in after a shower. "It feels good," she says. "And I kept his pea coat. When I get upset, I think of things that Harry and I did together. If I didn't have those memories, I don't know how I could go on."
She taps her chest. "Harry is right here."
Copyrighted 2003. Not to be copied, borrowed,
or published without written permission.
This article is available for reprint. Contact Sheri by e-mail: Sheri@Rehwoldt.com,
or via phone: 716/946-7308.
