A friend of mine recently reminded me of words I wrote several years ago: “Our lives are not just ours. Our pain is not just ours alone. Our lives impact other lives…”. Many years ago, I taught a three-year leadership development program with an amazing group. It was through that experience, and through listening to their individual life stories, that I realized that we do not live our lives in isolation, but our lives are very interconnected. Your life impacts my life, and your life impacts many other lives. When someone passes, we do not just miss them because of the memories—we miss them because of our shared lives, the stories that emerge, and their impact upon our life.
As we live, and brush shoulders with friends, we share these life experiences. We share stories, we laugh, we cry, we support, we care, we celebrate, and we grieve when others grieve. This is blog post 39, and there have been common message threads, and themes woven throughout previous writings. One of those themes has been the subject of grief. Everyone experiences grief, and it’s okay! Grief is healthy and necessary because we are humans, and not some form of artificial intelligence, or robots. We care! Our human nature is that we are moved by the experiences of others. When something goes wrong, we naturally want to help. We naturally want to help care for those in need. When we see someone cry, we are impacted. When we walk through a painful life experience with another, we also grieve alongside them.
Some have a grieving heart for days, weeks, or months. Others may experience grief for years, and for some, it simply never goes away. In my case, the journey started five years ago, and I have realized my heart will always have a bit of grief, and that is okay and natural. This does not imply that because of my grief, that I cannot move forward. Recognizing grief actually helps in our moving forward in life. There is no shortcut in working through loss, and honoring and remembering helps remind me of where I once was, and where I am today. I have a beautiful life, and while many things in the journey were painful and heart-wrenching, I would not change a thing. I am so blessed, and thankful how life has unfolded.
In blog #11, “Grieving Through Anniversaries and Milestones,” it focused on what is called the “year of firsts.”The first year is by far the most difficult because I had to force myself to celebrate. Looking back, I was really just trying to make it through the holiday or milestone. The best I could do was to give thanks to God for the memories of those special days, and move forward.
Since the year of firsts, it is easier, but never easy. Yes, it is true that time does bring healing, but the sting of death is always present. I have heard some say that until you stop grieving, you will never heal. This is not true. Some wounds are simply too large and deep to heal without leaving a scar. In most cases we know exactly how and where we got our scar. Scars remind us that something traumatic happened to a part of our body. However, it’s important to note that while we may still have those deep scars, and have grief, we can still move forward, and be truly healthy people that can make a difference in the lives of others. Again, our stories are not just our stories, but they are used in the lives of others in their journey.
There are a number of reasons I write this blog. First, Lyn had a desire to be public about her journey to help others going through rough times and life-threatening situations, but she was simply too ill, and needed to focus on the medical side of things before writing a blog. Second, expressing, painful, and personal struggles has helped me in my grief process and healing.
When there is a traumatic event that involves a serious illness, treatment, abuse, or struggle, we cannot easily “unsee” or “unthink” some of the things experienced during these traumatic events, and it leaves a scar. There were things I saw during Lyn’s suffering, and those mental wounds will be there permanently. Scars are not bad things—they remind us of pain, and each scar has a date attached. We can look at that scar and realize how much we have grown and healed since that pain impacted us. I know abuse victims, and people that have lost loved ones, and dates are attached to those scars. In almost all situations there is still a bit of grief attached to that event, but they have continued to live and move forward. As a result, their grief, sadness, and wounds are used as an example of healing as they walk beside someone else going through a painful life event.
When Lyn was going through her illness, I first grieved because of all that she was enduring. After she passed, not only did I have the heartache and grief from watching her struggle, but I had a new and compounded grief as I felt the loss. So, grief can cut deeper than just one issue, and the time it takes to work through pain and grief differs for each person, and the depth of the wound.
I recently had a cut in my hand. The wound was cleaned, stitched, and wrapped. The wound healed on the outside, but my thumb is still numb, and I can feel the scar tissue underneath the skin! I have realized there is healing down deep that must occur before it will be totally healed. My hand looks normal, but it does not feel normal. The total healing is going to take a long time.
In my case, while I lost a spouse, my situation of processing can be so much different than another person. In my journey, I had time to walk through the process with Lyn. Albeit, it was a painful process, but as a family we got to spend quality time with her. Another person may also lose a spouse, but the process could be so much more painful due to circumstances, such as a sudden passing where there was no time to say goodbye. Each grief situation is different, and the grief for each person in a family is also very different.
Something that seems obvious now, but it took time to recognize was that there are different sides of grief. At first, I was a bit self-centered on my own grief. I originally viewed grief only through my lens and personal experience, and did not recognize those grieving Lyn’s illness and passing had a different type or side of grief. As I wrote earlier, our lives are intertwined, and our experiences impact one another, because we care. It’s in our nature. As a result, while the depth of my grief is likely much more complicated, and deep, others also felt the pain as they walked the journey with our family. It wasn’t just me, or my family that grieved, it was also all that walked beside us that felt the sting of death after Lyn passed.
People were amazing during Lyn’s illness. Friends, family, coworkers, and total strangers from around the world sent messages of hope, love, and support. We received messages from missionaries that their church from halfway around the world were praying for Lyn and our family. I heard from total strangers how sad they were to learn of Lyn’s passing. They reached out to me, not as a friend, but as a caring person that was experiencing grief from afar.
Before Lyn’s passing, I thought of grief only in terms of the loss of a person. However, another side I quickly discovered was the grief associated with losing the support and connection with our professional medical community. I heard from many in our medical team how her life, and her passing impacted them in profound ways. We quickly became close with our medical team, and they were like family. The care and compassion from the medical team was incredible. For more than two years, we had near weekly interactions with doctors, surgeons, intake staff, lab personnel, radiological teams, counselors, and the cancer pharmacy.
Once Lyn passed, it was almost instantaneous that we had no more access to communication or support from the medical team. It was a very cold and painful reality. There was grief associated with the illness, the passing, and then the loss of the medical team was added to it.
I have learned that grief comes from different sides, and they build on one another. It was compounded grief. As a result, the web of confusion and emotions are indescribable. There are reasons medical professionals, and grief counselors advise against making major decisions or changes in life for a period of time without seeking advice from trusted friends. In my case, it took weeks to allow things to start to calm down. When I write, “calm down,” I am simply implying that life didn’t seem as out of control. But the transition toward healing had not even started.
One moment things were fine, and the next minute I felt as if I just received a gut punch and experienced the deepest crush of emotion. I had sleepless nights, and spikes of terrible anxiety while lying in bed. The weight was heavy, and my brain could not process anything complex. I am thankful I had friends giving input and support which helped me to avoid potential mistakes.
The support, friendship, and love from family, friends, coworkers, and total strangers helped share in this sadness and grief. I also had the peace of God, that although Lyn’s time on this earth was over, we all had the peace that she was with her Lord for all eternity. Over time, the heavy weight was beginning to lift, and the brain-fog was clearing. The healing process began to happen, and I could begin the process of moving forward in life.
Although it has been several years since her passing, the healing process continues as I have the opportunity to share my experience (and the family experience) with others as they are going through the difficulties of life. My life, and my experiences are not just mine—they are there to hopefully foster healing in those I cross paths with. Additionally, as I add new thoughts and writings, this brings healing to me, and it also fulfils Lyn’s desire to share her life and story. As I have written over the past few years, I have heard from many people how certain thoughts have helped them in their journey, and in their healing process. For this, Lyn would be very pleased.