Wednesday, November 9, 2016

On grieving
By the time we reach the half-century mark, we all have lost someone near and dear to us and have gone through the grieving process. The rituals of wakes and funerals do help us work through grief. It allows us to be open about the pain we feel and to share memories of the loved one so we can be on the road to the healing of spirit.
          Often, people who go to funerals to offer their sympathy to the relatives of the departed don’t exactly know what to say. They’re aware that they should say something deeply comforting, but when they see the tearful face of a grieving person, all words escape them. Anyone who is hurting will tell you that’s okay. You have already said a lot simply by making the effort to be on hand to share in the sorrow. All you need to do is hug the person. That will tell them you care, which is exactly what they need.
          But what about other grieving processes? What about the grieving a person has to work through while a loved one is still alive? That sort of grieving can be a lot more difficult to manage.
          I’m talking about the grieving you face when a loved one is slowly dying because of a devastating incurable disease, or is in a coma, or suffers from dementia or Alzheimer’s disease which is ravaging a once alert and rich mind. That grief can be distressing because it is renewed every time you see your loved one. There is no closure, no final good-bye, no funeral to help heal wounds which remain raw, always near the surface.
          It is indeed a cruel time of life. You have to try to be optimistic while your loved one is slowly moving closer to the final exit. It is a lingering process when the beauty of life can be forgotten in the midst of painful confusion.
          Here again, friends and relatives often don’t know what to say so they simply stay away. What a terrible mistake! We all need someone with whom to share our pain, and that sharing need not be a tearful encounter. It can simply be sitting next to a friend, quietly being there in the moment.
          People grieving for loved ones still living can only survive if those around them support them. We should make time to call them on the phone, to visit them, to listen. It will mean the world to them, and could make the difference between total darkness and the strength to go on another day.
          As we age, we also must take the time to grieve our personal losses, the gradual ones, almost imperceptible at first, such as the loss of youthful skin, the loss of perfect vision, the loss of hair, the loss of pain-free joints, in short accumulated losses. If we don’t take the time to talk about these losses, even joke about them, we may end up depressed and unhappy.
          A few years back, I visited a favorite uncle who was hospitalized with heart disease. His life was becoming more and more constrained, yet he was always jovial. “I don’t waste time on what I can’t change,” he said, and then looked out the window. “See what a beautiful day this is!”
          Working through grief is accepting what we can’t change. I’m sure my uncle had some dark days, yet he made the effort to have a positive outlook despite his problems. I’m sure that’s the reasons everyone loved him.
          No matter the inevitable changes we all have to face, making a determined effort to concentrate on the other bountiful aspects of our lives may be the secret to replacing tears with a smile.