The Light Beyond

What should I say to a grieving friend or relative?

There's nothing you can say, really, no magic words to take the pain away. The best thing you can say is “I’m sorry.” Just be ready to listen and care. Don’t try to convince your friend that everything is "fine" or that their loved one is "better off." Listen quietly and validate how painful and sad the loss has been.

People who are grieving don't expect – or even want – for you to take their grief away. It is enough just to listen. You cannot be expected to come up with 'solutions'. I think this is what people feel expected to provide, which is why they feel awkward around people who are grieving, as of course there is no 'solution' or magic fix.

Listening and really hearing what another person has to say is so important, and it’s not always easy. But, if you can: don't just do something – sit there. It can be hard to sit and listen to someone in intense pain or someone struggling with life and death issues, but just listening and being a witness can help more than any advice you could possibly give.

Curie's story: we'll catch up

I lost my father 12 years ago, quite suddenly to a heart attack. He was at work when he suffered his attack and his last words were "Call an ambulance!".

I was living two states away and I remember it being a beautiful day. I am now 48 years old, and still his absence cuts me to the bone sometimes. I have dreamt about him, and it's one dream in particular that has stuck with me the most. I shall relate it here in just a bit.

The mere suddenness of his passing has left the traditional open wounds and unresolved issues. Did I tell him that I loved him enough? Did I make sure he knew how much he meant to me? Did I ever get to prove that I am a man in my own right? Is he disappointed in me and in the way I live?

Such are the feelings that sometimes just grab me by the throat like a ravenous animal, and reduces me to tears, reverting me back to that same raw moment when I learned that he was gone. Sometimes, I try to discern what my dreams of him meant. In moments of clearer lucidity, it comes through, but in times like this I re-think my impressions and come up empty.

My Dream: I am at my parents' house. There are a lot of people there, like a holiday or something. People are sitting around the dining room table and my father is sitting at his usual place. Talk is light and cacaphonous, as my family is half-italian and there just seems to be a natural inclination for many conversations to be taking place at once. My dad is talking and laughing along with everyone else. Suddenly, he looks up at the clock on the wall, and says "Well, I guess I'd better get going". He rises from the table, and everyone says goodbye and good luck to him...like he's going to work, or on a brief trip.

I watch from the bar in the dining room. I am bewildered that he has gotten up from the table and is going into the bathroom. Where is he going? What does everyone know that I don't? After several minutes, he emerges. Not only is he decked out in jeans and t-shirt and leather jacket, he is a much younger version of himself. I get up from the bar and start walking towards him, to ask him what is going on. He is standing at the front door, and I stop him before he goes out. I ask him where he's going. I ask him if I can come with him.

At this point, I realize that I am asking to go with him because I am genuinely afraid; like something terrible could happen, and I want to be there to either protect him, or be on hand to share in whatever happens. He smiles, and tells me that I can't go with him. He deflects all answers as to why not. By now, I come to the realization that this is no ordinary trip, and that it has deep meaning. With tears in my eyes, I tell him that I don't want him to go. He embraces me and says that he has to. He then whispers something in my ear that I still don't entirely understand. He whispers: "We'll catch up."

He then turns and leaves, shutting the door behind him. I never see him again. Behind me, the conversations are carrying on like before, like nothing unusual has happened. I then awaken. I should suffix this by relating that his youngest brother, my uncle whom I have been very close with all of my life, passed away suddenly this past September. I think of him often, and of course by doing so think of my father as well.

Sometimes the pain and grief and sense of loss isn't too bad. Other times, it cuts me clean in half. I assume that in their new heightened awareness, they see all and sundry that I have been and what I have become. I wonder if I have disappointed them terribly, and if they can ever forgive me for the things they never knew but know now. I don't know if I will ever catch up to my father, or if he would ever even want me to. Curie

Try to respect the way others grieve

Just as you have a right to grieve in your own way, so do the others around you. However, their way may be quite different from yours and this can cause all kinds of problems in relationships already straining at the seams following a traumatic loss.

It just goes back to grief being very individual, and respecting the path that someone else is on, even if their thoughts and feelings are very different from your own. They may not cry, for example, whilst you can hardly stop – it doesn’t mean that they don’t care, or that they aren’t grieving.

They are just coping with their loss in their own way.

Linda's story: the lasting impact of drunk driving

It has been nearly five years since my son and I were hit by a drunk driver. In an instant, he was taken from me and I was left to fight my way back into a life with meaning again. As a single mom, Scott was my life.

After being told day after day in my hospital bed that Scott was dead, I finally got it! But I still don't want to believe it. The journey back into life has been a hard one, but a rewarding one as well. Scott's friends, my friends, and our family never left my side as I struggled through years of depression.

While I was still in my wheelchair, almost 18 months later, a woman came to me and asked me if I would go to a CRASH program with her where she spoke to drunk drivers about the lasting impact they have on those around them. Now, three and a half years later, I have spoken to at least 50 groups and have helped start a memorial scholarship in my son's name at his high school.

You see, Scott was only 15 and the girl that hit us was only 17. These two young people both died because of a bad decision. I find my friends and family are my best resource for support, but getting my feelings out and making a difference is my best form of therapy and has helped me the most. You can see photos of Scott on my website at www.raidenshine.com (Scott's scholarship). Here is the url www.raidenshine.com/scottsscholarship.html.

I miss Scott desperately every day, but I know he would not want me to weep at his grave. He would want me to do all I could to save someone else's life. Linda

Be gentle with yourself

I think it's important to be gentle with yourself, no matter what you are feeling. Bereavement is a process, not an event; it’s your grief, your process, and you have a right to do it your way. And of course your feelings and emotions will vary greatly depending on who has died, and the manner of their passing.

For example, when someone has died a long, lingering death, it's perfectly natural to feel relief. Relief that your loved one isn't suffering any more. Relief that you’re not suffering any more. Relief that the whole ordeal is over and a sense of normality can slowly creep back into your life.

If you have watched a loved one die a protracted death, remember that relief is as normal a feeling as grief and try to be gentle with yourself as you deal with all your mixed emotions.

Some thoughts on grief

The Light Beyond’s motto is ‘Helping you through bereavement, one step at a time’ but of course what we’re really talking about here is loss. Similar principles apply to losses of all kinds – the loss of your health, your marriage, your relationship, your job, your freedom or your independence, for example, as well as the loss of a loved one through their passing.

Whatever the loss you have suffered, I wish I had magic words to say that would take the grief and sadness away, but of course I don't. Nobody does. All I can do is point out a few things which it is helpful to remember when you are grieving. I'll do so in the next few posts.

Hands Together, Heart to Art children's summer camp in Chicago, IL

My name is Susan Urasky, I'm the camp registrar for Hands Together, Heart to Art run out of the Auditorium Theatre of Roosevelt University, a non-profit organization.

I wanted the Light Beyond's readers to know about Hands Together, Heart to Art which is a summer camp in Chicago, IL that celebrates the healing power of creative play. It is an arts initiative for children ages 7-14 who have experienced the death of a parent. This is a two week day camp with the low tuition cost of only $50 and scholarships are available. The campers take part in music, dance, and drama classes daily along with grief counseling to help facilitate their healing process. For more information, please visit www.hthta.org or call the program at 312.922.2110 ext 303. Thank you, Susan Urasky.

Are you still there?

The talented paulmot on the Light Beyond bereavement forum recently posted this moving poem he wrote after the death of his father:

Are you still there?

9 weeks have passed by
Your life issues nearly completed
Your affairs coming to conclusions
You have left us here, rudderless

You gave us direction
you supplied us affection
You handed us reflection

You made us as we are
You gave us what we have
You prepared us to be strong

You set us upon our way
you guided us along the way
You chided us in our ways

I hope you are being directed
I hope you are being prepared
I hope you are on your way

I hope you know
You are still here
You are in all of us

__________________
We must pass the tests set for us to move to the next level.

Moving up is crucial to the well being of us all

Take all suicide threats seriously

There's a myth that people who talk about suicide won't actually do it, so many well-meaning people ignore them or accuse them of attention-getting or manipulation.

But it's important to remember that most people who commit suicide told at least one person about what they were thinking of doing. Take all suicide threats seriously. While you can't make choices for another person or force them to get help, let them know that you're there and that you'll support them in finding the help they need.

A Journey Well Taken: Life After Loss

This book is a widow's journey through loss, grief and renewal. It is the author's personal struggle following the illness and death of her husband of twenty years. This story deals with a family's grief and the challenges faced by those left behind. It is a journey familiar to many in today's society where one spouse outlives the other. Despite challenges that arise when things fall apart, loss can help us uncover our own strength, purpose and dignity. This is a tribute to survival and renewal as loved ones redefine the family unit, minus one.

Personally, I found A Journey Well Taken to be an honest, courageous and ultimately uplifting account of one woman's journey through the uncharted territory of bereavement. It will prove a great source of comfort and support for those traveling a similar path.