Grief…To Each Their Own

Grief is often thought of as a static, general emotion.  It’s used to describe and encompass all the feelings that someone is experiencing in reaction to a loss in just one word.  You know just like the word “Love.”  Love is universally used to describe an intense feeling of deep affection that we have for another person.  But, it doesn’t really represent or distinguish every detail that you feel about a person, for example…when you say “I Love You”.

It’s not the best assumption to think that we can associate ourselves or others after a loss with just one word.  At least in my opinion.

Grief is actually very dynamic.  To each person it’s unique as a fingerprint.  Each person has their own.  Another person can not own it.  Another person can not 100% relate to it.  It’s something that we have to own and process ourselves.

I feel that there are many factors that play into how a person will grieve.

Have you ever dealt with adversity before?  How did you grow up?  Has your heart ever been broken?  How dependent were you on the person that you lost?  Was your relationship good or bad?  How long were you together?  Are there regrets?  Was it a terminal illness or sudden loss?  Are you religious?  What were you doing when you found out?  Has life been smooth sailing since birth and is this the first obstacle that you have ever been faced with?  Has life always been a rocky road and this is just another hatch mark in the “things never go good” column?

I could go on forever.  There are literally hundreds and thousands of circumstances, aspects, and elements to take into consideration.  All of those things will certainly play into how much, how little, how long, and when a person grieves.  Put that all together, and you have an exclusive configuration of grief unique to that person and that person only.

Grief as it relates to my story is actually a little different than most people would think.  One thing that I heard more than a few times immediately after Kate passed away was, “You seem to be doing really well.”  This was true, but no one knows why.  It was because I grieved 8 months earlier, before she passed away.  I have heard it referred to as “Anticipatory Grief”.  That’s when it happened to me.  I didn’t pick when it would happen, I didn’t choose when it would happen, but that’s when it happened.  Besides one time that I may have told Kate…no one else ever knew.

Anyway back to it…I remember it all quite well, it was March of 2016.  It was the same week that she basically went from running three miles a day in the gym to being unable to breathe without an oxygen machine.  Also in that week they let her know that this was it.  They informed her that the cancer has metastasized to her lungs and liver.  They told her there was no cure, but they could treat it for a while.

Imagine the sound of a record needle being scratched off a record like they play in the movies when something suddenly comes to an abrupt stop.  OK now I can continue…just setting the mood.

I can close my eyes right now and remember leaving Johns Hopkins to go home to the kids while she stayed in the hospital.  I can still see the amber streetlights passing by one at a time while driving down Orleans St. towards Route 40 to go home.  I can remember the potholes left over from winter on the ramp to get on I95 to head north.  It’s all still clear and I can remember it like it happened yesterday.

I can remember on that exact drive home when it all started, I began to cry.  The worst part was I didn’t know why I was crying.  When I got home that night I remember the first thing I did, I stared at the empty table that we usually ate dinner at.  I said to myself, “Well that’s how its going to look soon without her sitting at it.”  I eventually went up to bed and saw the empty bed and thought to myself, “Well that’s how its going to look soon without her laying in it.”  I didn’t deliberately bring on these thoughts, again they just happened.  This process went on with everything.

I still can’t tell you why I would cry, but it happened every damn time I was in the car alone.  Not at work, not at home, not with the kids, not with Kate, just when I was driving alone.  This is when I learned that inward feelings don’t necessarily always match outward emotions.  It was confusing.

Just like when it started I remember the exact moment it ended.  Kate had been in the hospital for 8 or 9 days at this point.  We knew she was allowed to finally leave, and I went to pick her up.  The doctor came in to explain how she would need oxygen from here on out.  Expecting her to be upset, her response was what struck me the most.  No crying, no look of disappointment, no sadness.  Instead she looked at me and said, “I am ready to leave, what the hell is taking them so long to get the oxygen tanks…I’m ready to go home and see the kids.”  I Don’t know what is was about her responding like that and I still don’t.  I guess maybe I figured that if she wasn’t concerned about being sick and just wanted to go home so that we can carry on with life than neither was I.

I know a lot of people won’t agree with this, but I am a full-blown believer that you truly grieve only once about a specific loss and that’s it.  Regardless of the length, it’s just once.  Anything after that can be considered part of the normal wide array of emotions that we have in life.

Without going in to too much more detail I was sad when she passed away and mourned as well, but I had already grieved what would be my loss.  My mentality had already been set in the months prior that I would not waste a single day if I didn’t have to because I knew someone that would have been grateful for just one more.

– Mindset Matters

(The picture above is from a visit during that hospital stay when I took the kids along)