Processing grief...

"No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear."

- C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

I’ve been trying to write this week.  ‘Trying’ would be the operative word.

Somehow putting finger to keyboard seems, well, it seems a little trite in the aftermath of life changing events in my family.

The giving…

Yeah, I know the words…God knows I have spoken them hundreds of times in attempts at consolation.  They go a little like this:

“I am so sorry to hear of the death of _______. I know how meaningful they were in your life.  Whatever suffering they were in, they now have been released.  Realizing this is the process of life doesn’t fill the hole in one’s heart…the void that seems so empty at the moment.  You and your family are in my thoughts and prayers…”

These words or iterations of them have always been heart felt when they were spoken or written…when they were on the giving end…when they were the only tools available to express the sense of community and appreciation for the common journey upon which every living creature embarks and departs.

Indeed, I have no doubt this life transitions to another place of continued intelligent growth…that she is cradled in the Hand of God.  From a child I had this teaching, the alphabet of faith.  It has matured to a life experience of ‘knowing’ its truth…yet, the departure tears the fabric nonetheless.

The taking…

When one is on the receiving end of these words and expressions of love and care, however, it is harder to find a place to put them.  It’s not that they are not appreciated…for in fact they surely are.  There is so much going on in the abruptness and ending of a life that it all mashes together, and like a hard falling rain on a summer’s evening, doesn’t always get absorbed. 

One would expect the earth of one’s soul to be tender at a time like this…to be able to take the words and feelings from friends and loved ones, like the soft and gentle rain on fertile soil…fully absorbed…sinking to a place of gentle comfort.  Instead there is a numbness that holds court, hanging on to the scepter with an unrelenting grip.  In some respects the sense of aloneness in the maddening crowd is almost overwhelming.

Then something happens that is equally unexpected…or at least in my case something happened that broke the bonds of self-absorption of my loss.

A village no doubt…

As my sister began to enter the house of horrors in her life, she became more and more isolated.  At first, after her retirement, she would go out to lunch or for coffee if someone asked, but those times were few and as time passed stopped happening. 

More and more she withdrew into her home – a metaphor for the withdrawal into confines of her mind.  Her retreat became so contained, over the days and weeks and months that she spent most of her time in her bedroom where she slept or watched television, and the kitchen where she ate.

Before she moved into assisted living a little less than a year ago, there were three day-to-day constants in her life. 

Riley…what more could be said?

The greatest of these was Riley her dog.  The expression a “…dog is man’s best friend…” pales to the reality of Riley’s companionship.  There is little doubt, this loving and ALWAYS enthusiastic animal provided a lifeline of consistency to which my sister clung…always there…always attentive...always loving.

The health-care provider…

A second constant was Sue.  Sue – the healthcare provider hired to make sure Nancy got her meals, took her medicine, attended to her personal hygiene.  You know the kind of people you pay to take family responsibility when the family is far flung as we were.  No amount of persuasion could get Nancy to come to California (with us) or Virginia (with our other sister).  Jefferson City is where she was going to stay…Sue became our daytime surrogate.

This was a business deal…you know…pay the company…they pay Sue…just business.  The problem, of course, is that humanity is not business.  Business is how we live, it is NOT who we are…and so it was with Sue.  This woman became a part of our family.  Like the postman – as borrowed from the Greek historian Herodotus (“Neither snow, or rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night stays these courageous couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.”) – Sue was ALWAYS there…an unsung heroine.

Sue came to deeply love her charge.  As had been Nancy’s gift, even in her most desperate moments, she had captured yet another soul as she had almost everyone she had met. 

The neighbors…

It is hard to know what happens when a person’s mind begins to unravel and slip away.  It’s hard to know what they are thinking in a world of diminishing returns.  It’s hard to know what drives their behavior.

Somehow through the blinding snowstorm in the winter’s evening of Nancy’s mind, Karen and Ed were the third anchor in my sister’s life.  They were her neighbors across the street, and she would visit them, sometimes several times a day with some problem, or paranoia or fear…seeking comfort in some way.  Without exception they met her with love and care that defied my understanding.  When alarmed about something in particular, they would call.

In my frequent trips to Missouri, I found myself apologizing for my sister’s unbridled visits to their home.  I was embarrassed that these kind people were so put upon.  They always told me, for I frequently brought the subject up, Nancy was not a big problem…for the life of me I thought they were just being polite.

The note…

Then came the epiphany…a sense of clarity from without that reminded me that we, as human beings, are truly a family.  It would be self-serving to say I came to this on my own.  In my sorrow, I needed help to recognize how truly meaningful and loving and helpful and caring people genuinely are and want to be. 

I had been apologizing to Karen and Ed for my sister’s behavior like some parent to the school principal…and then…and then this arrived from Karen this morning…for my sister Nancy…in reality for me…to open my eyes and my heart.

Thank you Nancy

Has it only been a week since we celebrated your life with a gathering of family, friends, and acquaintances?

I didn't say this then.  Sometimes it takes a little distance before we realize the journey.

Though you and I weren't lifelong friends you gave me life-long memories and learned lessons.

Your need filled my need to help.

You gave so much.  You encouraged others to help others always.

Nancy, your life expressed the reality that anything is possible when we help each other.

Through you I met examples of strength, love, and devotion…

I believe in the adage, “It is better to give than to receive.”  I have tried to follow that teaching, because it has brought both satisfaction and meaning to my life.  On the other hand, one cannot give if there is not one who receives.  Receiving, for me, has been a more challenging task.  My sister’s loving neighbor reminded me with these simple heartfelt words, how important and healing it is to be as able to receive.

To all those who have reached out to share my sorrow…touched my life and those of my family…all of your words have found a place in the fertile ground of my mind, seeping deeply into my heart…

- ted