This post on Metafilter (I did not read the linked article, I admit, after someone referred to Millennial humor in it) struck me. the comments particularly - about grief and specifically grieving a parent. And more relevant to the emotional (and less toward the practical - that first post is apparently about things like dealing with wills and disposing of property and such) is this one about "Grief Camp" - a program aimed at kids losing a parent. And someone over there commented that adults need that, too.
And one thing I learned: most of us don't really know anything about deep grief. As I've said before, losing three grandparents (my maternal grandfather died when I was a baby, so I didn't remember it), even though I was effectively a child for two of them (8 for my paternal grandfather; 12 for my paternal grandmother) and not very old (21) when my remaining grandmother died, it somehow hurt less than losing my dad.
I think maybe it was distance? I didn't live near any of them; we saw them once or twice a year. And when my mom's mom died, she had been sick and in pain for quite a while and it was not unexpected (and yet: I still remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when the call came: sitting at the kitchen table, at breakfast, on a summer day, eating Cinnamon Toast Crunch)
With my dad, of course, he was always there when I was growing up. I lived in the same house with him and my mom when I was in grad school, and I used to go back and visit him regularly. And yes, I admit, in May of 2019, when I was heading back here, when I hugged him, I did think - seeing how his health had declined, "it's possible this is the last time I see him" but I didn't really think much about it until it happened.
The ironic thing is all the logistic stuff seemed relatively easy; my mom and I did all that together - getting the details of his memorial service settled, arranging for the cremation, doing all the endless paperwork with the gas company and the electric company and the bank and everybody.But that was active and useful and it kind of shut down the more ruminative thoughts.
And people brought food. And we went to restaurants (this was the year before the pandemic....)
And when I got back home here, people from church brought food.
I do remember people were a LOT kinder at church than at work. Oh, my colleagues were fine, but the administration did seem to expect I'd get "back to normal" very fast - including putting me on a very onerous and high-labor committee after I got the task of assessment for the department dropped on me by a colleague who was leaving (and I remember sitting through his discussion of what needed to be done and not remembering WORD ONE of it - one thing no one tells you is that grief absolutely nerfs your memory for a while, and trying to learn anything new isn't very possible). I also remember someone suggesting a grief counselor and that my university might have an EAP, and I made about five phone calls trying to find information until giving up and tearfully calling our Title IX/accommodations person on the grounds that he was sympathetic, I had heard him talk to my department. And he found it for me, but it was an EFFORT to use. (And I will note, with a slight bitterness: a couple years later when a well-loved faculty member died, THEN the university put all the "how to request an EAP for grief counseling" on the website and I wonder if I was literally the first one ever to request it after losing a family member).
Anyway: a couple of conclusions:
- it's a lot easier if you have another person who is copacetic with you. My mom and I work well together and I think it was easier for each of us having the other there.
- arrange for a grief counselor if you can. Even if you don't think you will need one
- expect your memory to be bad, your emotions to be shredded in weird ways. I lost a lot of my ability o be patient during that time
- don't expect a lot of sympathy from bosses. If you get it, that's great, but there's very much an expectation (at least in America) that a couple weeks after a major loss you should be "back to normal" and for me it was a good six months before I was moderately functional again (and then, of course, the pandemic hit, which brings its own griefs)
- But also: it will come back up at weird and odd times. You never really DO "get over it," it's more, you reconfigure your life to work around the absence of that person. But then you'll be reminded. The alzheimer's (probable) of another relative brings it back up - not because my dad had that, but because it's another person of that generation who is being lost. And hearing about the dead in the Lahaina fires, weirdly - because we had been there as a family, and also the talk of them being like "cremated remains" (my dad chose to be cremated) so I admit right now is just a little hard.
- Also people will "ghost" you (perhaps that's an unfortunate word to use given the topic). Some people wind up being surprisingly kind or helpful; others may not know what to say and I admit, I get it - it is hard to know what to say or do. But in the moment when you are in that grief, it feels like a rejection, like that person didn't care. (I saw this too in the pandemic; a couple times when I reached out to people via text or phone because I really needed to talk to someone and got a very curt or what seemed like self-centered reply, but honestly: everyone was going through a bad time then and I wasn't uniquely upset and troubled over it)
- And more people than you realize are carrying tons of grief. Someone I knew revealed to me after I lost my dad how he missed his partner (who had died probably seven years earlier) every single day. Everyone probably has some kind of grief they're carrying, unless they are exceptionally young. It's something we all have to incorporate into our worldview, and that's going to be different for everyone. But grieving the loss of those they love is (sadly) something we all share as humans.
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