Yesterday... your eyes opened and thoughts of your upcoming day drifted into your mind. Your first thought was, “Oh, no! It wasn’t a dream! It is real!” Today, just before your eyes opened, you became instantly aware of what has been lost. Someone you loved has gone. As time passes it doesn't matter as much how they left; it only matters that they are gone. You are left alone to endure the immense pain of the loss, feeling that the memories are all that is left to hold on to. Yuck!
When we lose someone we love, we board an emotional roller coaster. Shock protects us as we process what has happened. Suddenly it seems as though we are peering out through shattered glass windows to see the world. Everything seems broken. We are broken.
In the beginning, we relive every day of the week like the last one before our world shuddered and began to shatter. Last Monday I was doing this with him/her…on and on it goes until a week has passed us by. Very soon we are confronted with the stark realization that we must travel alone on the road that lays ahead of us. What was my beloved thinking when he passed this intersection? Where was he going? She last entered this store that last evening; was she happy? Did he know? Did he have any idea that tomorrow would never come for him? Is this macabre thinking? No, it is how the human mind processes the events of the past few days or weeks as we approach reality, as we emerge from the shock of our great, life-changing loss. Let it happen, even though it seems completely surreal; it is a necessary process that serves to protect us.
Tucked in between all of these emotions are the sudden memories that spring, uninvited, into our minds. We remember conversations, special times, and all the things that are left for us to slowly embrace as the healing begins. They are uninvited because we imagine that we must not look at happy things until we have embraced all the pain and wring every last teardrop out of it. This is how we pay homage to the memory of the one we loved. There is the idea that we can't be happy because we believe they will never be happy again. This is the roller coaster ride of the griefstricken, trudging up the hills so slowly and flying down the other side as we encounter the next reality we have been safeguarded from.
Does it get better? This is trauma and trauma talks. It must talk; it is how we are able to finally release the shock and horror of losing someone we loved. It is how we arrive at a place where we understand that a much bigger hand than ours is guiding life. It is how we arrive at the most necessary destination, while we are guided and processed to an attitude of acceptance. And it is here that we can step off the roller coaster and all the pain we endured on the ride.
It is also here that we are able to embrace the memories that are warm and funny, the ones that are healing for us. Even though we continue missing them like crazy, we survived. And this was the goal.
John T. Catrett, III
ONHL Hospice Chaplain
(918) 352-3080
john.catrett3@gmail.com