Category: Grief

I was going to write about something else today, but I changed my mind.  That’s one of the great things about writing a blog.  You can write about whatever you want.

I am going to share something that I haven’t shared with many people.  For a long time, I blamed myself for my first husband’s death.  He got up before I did the morning that he died.  I was still sleepy, so I rolled back over and started to drift off.  I was in that state of half sleep and half awake.  You know the one where you are still aware of what is going on, but everything is a haze and its feels like there is a 50 pound concrete block on top of you making movement difficult.  I remember distinctly hearing a thump.  I figured my husband had dropped something and that he would call for me if he needed help.  When I woke up a little while later, I was greeted with an awkward feeling – I felt like I was alone.  But, how could that be?  I called for my husband, “James?”  Silence.  Had he gone out?  Surely he would not have went out without me.  He couldn’t drive and it was a cold December morning, so where would he have gone?  At that point, panic hit me.  My heart started racing and I was nauseous.  I called his name louder as I went into the computer room where I usually found him, but not this time.  As I rushed out of the room, I noticed him face down on the floor.  His body was heavy and lifeless.  After the paramedics arrived and assessed the situation, one of them said, “It’s too late.  there’s nothing we can do.”  I remember thinking that morning and for a long time after, if only I had gotten up to check on things when I heard that noise, maybe I could have saved him – maybe it wouldn’t have been too late.

It took me a long time and lots of therapy before I could get to the point to where I didn’t feel like his death was my fault.  I realized today though that just because I had dealt with this and it happened over 8 years ago, that I am still affected by this trauma.  My life is still rattled by this experience, just like earth is by aftershocks of an earthquake.  Wikipedia says this about aftershocks: “Aftershocks are dangerous because they are usually unpredictable, can be of a large magnitude, and can collapse buildings that are damaged from the main shock. Bigger earthquakes have more and larger aftershocks and the sequences can last for years or even longer especially when a large event occurs in a seismically quiet area.”

Just this morning I was made aware of an aftershock.  My husband started coughing while eating his breakfast, and I immediately asked if he was okay.  He shook his head and started laughing.  When I asked why he was laughing, he said because I am always asking him if he is okay-even when the littlest of things happens.  As I thought about his comment, I realized that he is correct.  I do ask him that frequently. I concluded that this action is a direct result of my first husband’s death.  I don’t want the same thing to happen to him.  It is an aftershock.

“Aftershocks can collapse building that are damaged from the main shock.”  I think this is the main concern.  If I continue to let my thoughts and actions be consumed by fear of something happening, then it is going to damage me and quite possibly my current relationship.  It is going to be easy for me to fall back into thinking that what happened to James was my fault.  I will become obsessed with ensuring that my husband now is okay.  When in reality, I am not in control of what happens to him at all.   Only God knows and controls the future.  I need to trust Him with it.

So, how do we deal with these aftershocks?  The Red Cross advises to do the following after an earthquake:  “Each time you feel an aftershock, drop, cover and hold on.”  Just like a physical earthquake, we may not be able to stop the aftershocks of traumatic events.  But when we see them coming or find ourselves in the midst of them, its best to drop, cover and hold on.  Drop to your knees and pray.  Ask God to cover you.  Psalm 91:4 says, “He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.”  And finally, hold on.  Grasp on to the truth.  Cling tight to his promises.  One of our elders was praying for me at church about this awhile back and she said sometimes you need to say these things out loud. There is power when you give it a voice – proclaim it.  It may be scary the first few times, but over time it will get easier as you realize that these aftershocks don’t have to consume you.

photo credit: Quake damage to River Road via photopin (license)

Grief is a very individual experience. I know that there are stages of grief that people typically go through. The thing that I dislike is that it seems to wrap grief up in a nice package. You work though these stages and then you get to the end and you are done and everything is better. Anyone who has ever experienced grief knows this is not the case.

There are a couple of things that people say that make me cringe related to grief. First is when people say: “I know how you feel.” Really? Because I seriously doubt that you do. And when you tell me that you do, unless you have also lost two husbands before the age of 36, you have pretty much lost me. I don’t know what people feel when they have lost a parent. I cannot imagine what it is like to lose a spouse after being married for 50 years and raising kids together. As a result, I have tried to erase that phrase from my vocabulary. I can relate to some of their struggles. I have experienced some of the same emotions. But, I don’t know how they feel, and they don’t know how I feel. What is a better response? A simple: “I’m so sorry.”

The second thing that people say that bothers me is when they comment about how strong a person is when they have lost someone and they seem to be holding it all together. I recently read an article written by Sara McNutt titled The Other Side of Grief that addresses this. She states:

” Since we have begun our own grief journey, I have noticed this subtle mindset that so many have about grief. The more outwardly composed and collected we are, the more praised we are for “being strong” and being a light and example. An example of what? Not collapsing on the floor in gut-wrenching pain and weeping that leaves our eyes nearly swollen shut and our faces red and blotchy? No, we save that for the privacy of our bedrooms… People who experience such profound loss and grief are not any stronger than you are. We did not experience our loss because we possessed more strength than you, and you are not exempt from experiencing it yourself. People who experience such profound loss and grief go on living because they have to.”

We live in a society that tells us we have to move on. After losing someone, we don’t keep functioning because we are strong. We do it because we have to. There are still jobs that must be done, bills to pay, laundry that must be done, cars to be taken care of and all of those things that had to be done before. Except now we are trying to learn how to take care of all of those things alone. Instead of praising us for how strong we are, a better response is simply ask how you can help. Ask how you can pray–that will give insight into where we need help that we won’t ask for.