Something About December

December is a very difficult time for many. It seems as if the whole world is bright, happy, and filled with the joy of the season...after all, the Christmas carols start around Halloween, and by Thanksgiving all the stores are decked out in green and red. TV commercials try to sell us all the things, and online popup ads are relentless. Hanukah is way late this year, December 24 - January 1st, but still falls within this month of December. I was born in December, on the Winter Solstice. I've never minded having my birthday so close to Christmas, because it seemed like everybody everywhere was celebrating something. For years, my older brother Jim and I traded birthdays...his is August 8th. I always appreciated his generosity and willingness to make sure I got a birthday gift that wasn't really a Christmas gift serving two purposes. The years passed, and now we are adults. We lost both our parents in December, Dad in 1993 and Mom in 2014. I've always prided myself on not being depressed during the holidays. After all, most of the December holidays are about darkness and light...whether it's Hanukah or Advent, the candles increase until the darkness is filled with light. But this year is different. For you see, now my brother Jim is facing lung cancer. My dear brother who taught me how to climb trees, who traded birthdays with me, who used to dry dishes in our childhood kitchen while singing songs from "Brigadoon" (practicing the sword dance in a dishtowel "kilt"), and who did two tours of duty in Viet Nam, is now facing the greatest battle of his life. Today he had a lung biopsy on the campus of Ohio State University during the lockdown that resulted in the shooting of a lone-wolf terrorist, a student who drove into a crowd then began attacking people with a butcher knife. What kind of world do we live in? Where is the light in all of this darkness? Regardless of your politics, your religion, or your background, we all want the same thing...peace on Earth, long life and health for our families, and a light in the darkness. In the face of all this sorrow and loss, I struggle to reach within myself and find that light, still shining. For me, it's the increasing glow of an Advent wreath, in which another candle is lit every Sunday for four weeks until that great Light enters the world on Christmas day. This year may be the first year that I struggle to find the joy in the season...We expect our parents to pass before us. It's another matter altogether when your siblings become sick and begin making their final preparations. And so I will light the candles, say the prayers, and pray for light in this world. Grief and loss are hard at any time of the year, but there's something about December...

A Different Kind of Grief

Sometimes it doesn’t take the death of a loved one to spark feelings of grief and loss. For example, the outcome of the recent presidential election has produced the same symptoms of grief and loss in a large segment of the population as those who have lost a loved one. In this case, the loss is of hope. This post is not intended to be a political statement, but rather a comparison of similarities between these two types of grief, and a look at taking steps toward healing. According to Mental Health America, there is a wide range of emotions that a person experiences when a death takes place. These feelings include numbness, denial, disbelief, confusion, shock, sadness, yearning, anger, humiliation, despair, and guilt. I have personally experienced all of these feelings after losing a loved one. However, until the most recent election, it hadn’t occurred to me that these same feelings might result from a profound sense of hopelessness due to loss of a collective dream, or hope for the future. I have heard a number of people say that on election night, they felt that they were living a nightmare, from which they could not awaken. There have been articles that list the Kubler-Ross stages of loss and grief, (denial and isolation, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance) adding one, “activism,” to the list. Online communities have tried hard to rally their followers to action, such as calling their government officials, writing letters, and sending e-mails to people in power, hoping to effect a change in the President Elect, the Vice-President Elect, and their incoming cabinet. What can a person do who has become so devastated by recent national events (such as the rise in racism, anti-Semitism, sexism, hatred of LGBTQ people, and hatred of religions other than one’s own) that s/he feels an interruption in his or her ability to function normally? Once again, I turn to the literature on coping with grief and loss. According to Mental Health America, there are a number of ways a person can try to live with their grief. These include seeking out caring people, expressing your feelings, taking care of your health, being patient, and seeking outside help, if necessary. If others around you are severely depressed by recent events, you can help them by sharing their sorrow through listening, not offering false comfort, again, being patient, and encouraging them to get professional help if necessary. If you feel called to take action, to be part of the resistance, then you should find like-minded people and move forward with that. As for myself, I take enormous comfort from nature. As a photographer and artist, I am constantly seeing “signs” in the natural environment around me that function symbolically as strategies for coping with stress. This morning I rose before dawn, and spent time meditating and reading philosophy. When I looked up from the text, the sky had lightened and dramatic storm clouds from yesterday’s winter storm painted what can only be described as a battle ground in the sky. How will you cope with your idealogical grief? You are not alone.

Saying Goodbye to Gloria

Early this morning my first Hospice patient, "Gloria," died peacefully in her sleep. I know this is the natural outcome of most Hospice stays, but it's my first experience with the death of a resident. I'm glad I had those four visits with her during training and then as a supervised volunteer...but I so wish I had had one last visit. In fact, my husband and I were called a few days ago to volunteer either last night or tonight, and by the time we responded, only tonight was still open. We'll be there with only one resident, who no doubt will be sound asleep, as we have the last shift of the evening. I can't tell a lie, this is hard for me. It's my faith tradition to believe that Gloria is in a better place now. I was lucky in that the last time I sat with her, we had a lively conversation about Thanksgiving Dinner. She was in and out of our reality; at one point she asked me how many people were coming (I said 6), how we should cook the turkey (I vetoed the pressure cooker), and if dinner would be held "here." In class later that week, I asked the instructors if it's OK to go with the reality of the dying...they said yes...so Gloria and I had planned a feast for either the past or the future...perhaps for both. Time seems very elastic for the dying. It is hard to say goodbye. Even though I only knew Gloria for a brief while, we took comfort in each other's presence. She tolerated my singing (for the most part), and I held her hand while she dropped off to sleep. As a Hospice volunteer, I know this pattern will repeat itself over and over again. I only hope that I can be fully present, be engaged, and then be able to step away as each person makes their final journey. Good bye, Gloria. May your Thanksgiving feast be a beautiful one.

Welcome To My Blog

This blog is for people experiencing grief and loss, whether from death of a loved one, friend, pet, or loss of something deeply meaningful to them. This is intended to be a safe place to share stories, information, photographs...