White orchids, arum lilies and roses….
Today I watched a webinar on mourning and grief counseling. Or actually a free introduction to a course on grief counseling (tip from my sister).
The introduction alone was worthwhile, so I’ll keep the course in mind. The past few weeks need to land first. Mourning for my father is not so raw because I am at peace with the fact that his suffering is over. Most of all, I grieve for his life that he could not live, together with my mother, with me and my sister, his sons-in-law and grandchildren.
To my mind, we are doing well together; we can cry together and laugh together. I can only hope it stays that way. It seems terrible when the loss of a loved one just drives you apart.
The most important tip in the grief webinar is to listen. Everything is about listening and connecting. Even if someone tells you the same thing ten times, keep listening.
My mother, sister and I can fortunately talk to each other a lot about the past few weeks; at home with my mother, over the phone, via whatsapp. We differ in character and it’s really not always rosy, but there is respect. We listen to each other and we are all heard.
We also learned things. Sometimes you have to go through things to know that you don’t want to go through them again. Details maybe, but very important ones. We will do things differently in the future and that knowledge makes me feel stronger.
My mother has been showered with cards and it is nice when people share memories of my father in this way. We, children and grandchildren, all read them too. Someone wrote a memory that said “wonderful guy,” and when I read something like that my heart leaps. An old friend even sent along a picture with him, my father and me in it. I was about four years old there and we are sitting next to a cottage in the sand. I didn’t know this photo, but really: my dad is sitting there as cool as he can be with his shirt sleeves rolled up and looking just like Bruce Springsteen!
My father was an only child. Only brothers and (in-law) sisters of my mother were present -from a distance- at the cemetery for the last farewell. Without words, shaking hands or hugs due to Covid circumstances, but the sadness on their faces said enough. My mother’s youngest brother sat on my father’s lap as a toddler. My mother is receiving visitors at home this period, remotely and a maximum of two people. Actually, she likes that much better than a condolence with many people at once (regardless of how you do this with a distance of one and a half feet away due to Covid measures).
I learned today that grief is not just an emotion that comes with death. It’s actually obvious, but grief is part of loss, and it can be anything. For example, you can lose your health, your home or your job.
I have lost a piece of myself over the past four years. Of the tumor I lost, I say “good riddance. But the person left now is not the person from four years ago. Work, a job, is part of your identity, but I really had to get rid of that idea. For me, working now means being healthy. More so than everything else that comes with it, like income, independence and self-esteem. I don’t yet know when the day will come when I can return to work, but this I know: it will be a day to celebrate.
I have also lost friendships. You often hear or read about people getting sick and then losing friends. I never understood that, but I am experiencing it myself now. Friends of whom I thought I was always there for them when they needed me. But when someone experiences a terrible loss themselves, it may be very difficult to be there for another person. Or maybe I didn’t listen as well myself as I thought I did.
The struggle with my health distracts me from my surroundings; I’m still in survival mode and Covid makes everything even more complicated, creates even more distance. I sometimes have to make choices that feel selfish and that’s hard; that’s a learning process.
Loss and grief are part of life, but what I find so particularly beautiful in this webinar: only with the difficult things in life (dark) do the beautiful things in life (light) stand out even more.
The light is even lighter with dark next to it.
(from Annemiek Dogan – Greef Academy)