Five Holiday Tips for Your Grief Journey

1. You do not have to do anything you don’t want to do.  Don’t feel pressured by your sense of duty to family and friends.  There are no “shoulds” or “musts” when you are on the path of your grief journey. Getting caught up in these absolutes will only make you miserable and others uncomfortable.

2.  Holidays are a rough time for anyone.  The expectations that we set for ourselves and the ones we perceive that others hold for us can be our undoing.  Practice the “KISS” philosophy—Keep it simple, sweetie.  It will save you the exhaustion and discomfort of trying to do more than you are able.

3. Do what you feel—if you can’t put up the decorations, don’t.  If you want to listen to sappy Holiday songs, do.  It’s time for self-care.  We have been programmed to think that caring for ourselves is selfish—it isn’t, it is essential to survival  and growth.  You can’t be there for others if you are not feeding your body and soul.

4. Don’t be surprised when everyone around you acts like nothing ever happened.  It is their inability to truly understand your pain that makes them act that way.  In addition they are uncomfortable with the whole concept of grief and sorrow so they will do whatever they can to ignore it, hoping it will go away.

5. The holiday season is supposed to be about love and happiness.  When you are in the midst of grief these things may seem  impossible.  If you are able, remember with love the happy times and holiday memories with your deceased loved one.  It’s ok to smile and cry at the same time.

The first Christmas after my son died I was pushed into attending a large family function held in a big public place.  I felt so out of place.  The noise and the amount of people were more than my raw emotions could take.  Needless to say, I didn’t stay long.  I recommend that you always have an escape route—what I mean by that is if you decide to go to a holiday gathering make sure that you can leave when/if it gets to feel overwhelming.

Take care of yourself and remember time moves forward minute by minute and the holidays will be over and things will return to a more even keel.  Also remember that you need to move forward step by step in your grief journey and only you know when to take those steps.

Out of the Shadows-Talking about Death and Grief

I have mentioned in previous posts how people become very uncomfortable around grieving people.  Oh, they can accept the prescribed amount of public mourning but after that they want the person to “get over it” because they no longer want to be faced with this uncomfortable subject.  I found a great quote by Lily Pincus, the author of Death and the Family: the importance of mourning and I agree with what she said. Pincus wrote, “Thinking and talking about death need not be morbid; they may be quite the opposite. Ignorance and fear of death overshadow life, while knowing and accepting death erases this shadow.” 

My experience has been that without the fear and attempts to ignore death I have an ease about life that I never had before.  It is not that I value life less, or value death more, it is that I see both as part of the same human experience and that acceptance has given me a peace that I never had before. Accepting death and life as equal has not stopped my feelings of loss and grief.  I think that is natural also.  I am left to live my life without the people who filled my days with love.

It is especially difficult without my son because I not only grieve for what I am missing without him in my life but also for the life that he was denied. Pincus also wrote about regression in grief and how it should not be seen as a negative sign but as a sign of healthy growth and adaptation. I think that is true too.  Grieving is not a linear experience.  There are starts and stops, stumbles and bumps, re-tracing of steps, plodding forwarding, becoming engulfed by the waves of grief, and then getting up and moving on again.  It doesn’t end at a prescribed time; it isn’t neat and tidy like many people would like it to be. It is a part of my life now and it's okay.

Tears—are there different kinds?

This Sunday, June 2^nd is my son, Robert’s birthday. This will be the seventh birthday without him. Robert was an only child so his birthday became a week-long celebration in our house.  This week I have been remembering those days along with Robert’s infectious smile as a toddler and his big booming voice as a young man.  There are few people who can understand why I still need this time to stop and honor his life, and yes, to cry.  The tears are different now after seven years, somehow.  They are not the searching, frantic tears of early grief but are now the slow, knowing tears of loss and love and meaning.

David Sheff, a professional writer, wrote a book about his experiences with his son’s drug addiction.  In the book, called Beautiful Boy, Sheff writes, “We are connected with our children no matter what.  They are interwoven into each cell and inseparable from every neuron.  They supersede our consciousness, dwell in every hollow and cavity and recess with our most primitive instincts, deeper even than our identities, deeper even than ourselves.”  This was my experience as a mother throughout my son’s life.  The unconditional love and connection that was there when he was alive continues even after I am left to live without him.  For that gift I cry.

I leave you with this quote from Washington Irving, “There is sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love.”

Mother's Day, again

Mother’s Day--I tell myself that it is a made-up holiday.  That it is just a way to sell cards, flowers, and help the restaurants make more money.  But—the build-up for Mother’s Day seems to be all around me.  It is in every advertisement I see for almost any product—“Buy your mom drain cleaner for Mother’s Day.  She will thank you.”  Okay, so maybe not, but it seems to be so prevalent.  With it goes my thoughts that I “use to be” a mother.  It was the best job I have ever had.  I took such pride in being a mom.  I only had one kid so I had to do it right the first time—and boy, I felt like I did.  Maybe I was too proud, maybe I bragged too much, maybe I shouldn’t have been so happy…

Now I only have the memories of being a mom and the knowledge that I will never hear that name used for me again.  I’m not someone’s mom, I won’t be someone’s mother-in-law, and I won’t be someone’s grandma.  So I have had to re-invent myself because for 24 years I had defined myself by that term-Mom.  When it was taken away from me I didn’t know who I was any longer.  Even when everything else in my life was a mess I still had that.  I tried to remember who the person was before I became a mom and it was impossible because I had been a mother, and I had lost a child, and it had forever changed me.  Then only eleven months after I lost one identity—that of mother—I lost another identity, daughter, when my mother died.  I was always very close to my mom, being the youngest child and the only girl.  I loved that my son had such a special relationship with my mom.  In less than a year they were both gone and I could no longer define myself as mother or daughter.  Who was I? Where was I?  I could not go back, I could only move forward.

Most of the time I am able to make the steps and move forward, but there are these little things, reminders of who I use to be, that all seem to happen for me around the same time.  These “anniversary reactions” pile up and I work harder at making the steps, one by one.  First in April was the anniversary of the crash, now May brings Mother’s Day, the beginning of next month is my son’s birthday.  Then for a while I will have some rest from these triggers.  When fall comes I begin new ones that carry over into the holidays.  It is the way my life is now and I mark the passage of time by these anniversaries and then take another step forward. 

Anniversary Reaction--Grief Revisited

The scientific explanation for “anniversary reaction” is a common and normal event, caused by a reaction in the amygdala where the initial feelings of the trauma or loss are trigged by the anniversary, sometimes outside of the consciousness of the individual.  The anniversary trigger can be different meaningful dates to the grieving individual such as holidays, birthdays, and the anniversary of the death of the loved one. Some people may experience an anniversary reaction when they reach the age of the loved one who died. This happens most frequently to those who had a parent die when they were children. 

Even the most well-functioning person can become overwhelmed and stopped in his/her tracks due to an anniversary reaction.  Emotional memory is not something that can be erased or forgotten.  In fact, in her article, Dr. Lamia (a clinical psychologist) noted that she had a client who had experienced depression every June for 25 years after the death of her 12-year old child.  For all those years the woman had tried to rid herself of these feelings thinking there was something wrong with her.  Once Dr. Lamia was able to let the woman know that this was a normal reaction the woman was able to stay with her feelings and plan how she would honor the anniversary without ignoring the reaction.  All those years of feeling there was something “wrong” with her!

Alright, that’s all the technical stuff about anniversary reaction.  Now to the reality.  I have just experienced another anniversary reaction.  About two weeks ago I went through the 7^th anniversary of my son’s fatal plane crash.  I really thought this year it was different.  I have been so busy with school and my internship that I didn’t think I was experiencing any extraordinary grief reactions and was feeling a little smug in my ability to “handle” it all this time.  

Then I began feeling very tired and found it difficult to get motivated on my days off.  I began to think I was coming down with some virus.  Nope.  One night while watching television I was hit in the head by a wave of grief.  It is such a total, physical and emotional reaction that is hard to explain.  It began with the mental thought of my son being out of my life and how much I have lost and also of all the life he has lost over the last seven years.  Then it shook my entire body. I had to re-visit that raw emotion of the realization that he was gone, not just away, but gone.  It didn’t last long but it was frightening because it was so unexpected. 

It helps to know that this is common among grievers.  I also realized in the first year of grief that I was not going to “get over” this loss and could only hope to move through it.  I look back over the last 7 years and think they were the longest and shortest years of my life.  So much has happened, so much has changed—but one thing has remained constant, my love and longing for my son.  And that’s okay.  It is my reality and so are the anniversary reactions that come when I least expect them.

The Tsunami of Grief

I just finished reading an amazing book called “Wave” written by Sonali Deraniyagala. It is the story of her escape from the Tsunami in Sri Lanka in 2004, which also resulted in the death of both of her parents, her husband, and her two young sons.  It is also the story of her struggle with incredible grief– she talks about the good, the bad, and the ugly sides of her journey. Ultimately it is her telling of the seven year journey through her grief and how her life has changed in every aspect of her existence.

I found the book extremely raw and truthful in explaining the aftermath left for the grieving person to face in a world suddenly changed.  I also liked that Deraniyagala did not shy away from telling the negative and flawed ways she tried to deal with her grief in the early years.  I thought her story was compelling and I related to her feelings about no longer being a mother and how devastating and empty that can seem.

In her book Deraniyagala describes a time when she is on a plane with a woman who begins to ask her questions about her parents, is she married, does she have children?  Deraniyagala is not only annoyed by the stranger’s questions but also knows how devastating it would be to that person if she were to tell her the truth.  I understand that feeling. 

One time, a couple years after my son’s accident, I was visiting a quaint little store in my home town and the owner struck up a conversation with me because I was the only one in the store.  She asked if I had any children, and I hesitated, weighing whether or not to answer truthfully.  I don’t like the feeling of denying my truth so I explained to her that I had a son who had died in a plane crash.  She asked more questions about him and the crash and I answered her.  She began crying and now I was left with the task of comforting her and helping her to feel better.  As Deraniyagala writes, “I keep it under wraps because I don’t want to shock or make anyone distressed.”  It seems that it is a constant juggling act to decide when and to whom to tell my story even after all this time.

I also appreciated how Deraniyagala explained her life seven years after her loss.  She noted that she no longer felt the shock but she felt fully the absence of her family and her life as it would be now with them in it.  Deraniyagala stated that she realized that she was only able to be herself and live her life if she held her sons and husband close to her.  When she tried to distance herself from them and the loss then that was when she felt unsteady.  I have found that true in my journey also.  In the beginning years the shock would not allow me to feel my son’s loss completely but now I am able to embrace my son and his memory. 

It also was refreshing that her book did not end with her “new” life tied up neatly in a bow.  Although she is successful in her work and appears to have a good support system of friends and family she does not allude to having built a new family or home to take the place of the one she lost.  She leaves the reader with the understanding that she continues to feel the loss while she continues to move through her life.  I liked that.  It felt real and doesn’t give other grievers false hope or the worry of comparison of their lives as being “less than” and the worry that “I’m not grieving correctly or I would be…”  We all travel our own path; none is better or “more right.”  Deraniyagala seems to get that.

Grief Journey--Then and Now

I have been so busy lately and focused on the practicum (pre-internship) for my Master’s in Mental Health degree.  I have begun the real work in the real world of counseling and it has been taking my time during the day working with clients and the evenings researching my work.  Because of this I have been neglecting the blog.  I have thought of it daily and regretted not being able to give it the attention it deserved.

As I was thinking about my life now having finally finished all my coursework, and I am now actually working as an intern in my field, I marveled at how much things have changed in the seven years since my world was turned upside down.  I wonder sometimes if my son would recognize the person that I have become.  His untimely death, followed by the death of my mother changed me profoundly in every way—physically, mentally, and emotionally.  Their deaths and the grief journey that followed shook my foundation apart and eventually I began building a new foundation, a different foundation based on what I had learned from this journey.

In those early stages of grief I never thought I would function again, have a life or a future.  I felt as if my life had ended that April day when my son died.  Shortly after I started seeing a grief counselor she recommended the movie, “Four Weddings and  a Funeral.”  I reluctantly watched the movie, not really able to concentrate, but I was struck by the poem read at one of the funerals.  It fully captured how I felt at that time.  I wanted everything to stop—for me, my world had stopped and I couldn’t understand how the Earth could continue to rotate on its axis. I would never have been able to tell that “me” who was so caught up in grief that  this “me” would come to a point in time that I was so busy with life that I would find that I was juggling to find time to do everything I want to do.  The journey continues, there are moments when the grief takes my breath away, but I move forward.

An interesting side note about the author of the poem, W.H. Auden wrote Opera librettos and the second version of the poem with the added stanzas was written to be sung by a soprano set to music of Benjamin Britten.  My son, Robert would be pleased about the opera connection.
I am sharing this poem with you below:

Funeral Blues by W. H. Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Trips and Triggers--Grief Revisited

I have written in previous posts about the unexpected wave of grief that can hit at any time caused by a sight, sound, smell, or taste that reminds us of a lost loved one.  Sometimes a news story can be the cause of the swell of sadness and tears.  I know that I am particularly aware of this grief trigger whenever I hear about the death of a college student and any small plane accident will send me to that place of overwhelming sadness.  I have learned to move quickly through the news channels and browse over the news articles on the computer, but sometimes there is no escaping the story and I trip over the inescapable edge of grief and the resulting emotional ride.  My thoughts will go to the parents and family of the victim because I know the life-changing event that has now catapulted them into a “club” that no one wants to join.

It has helped me over the years to understand that triggers can happen and that if I accept the emotions and breathe, it doesn’t last forever.  For those new to grief it can be an upsetting and unsettling experience but it is important to know that it is normal.  It is also an individual experience as everyone will be affected differently and be triggered by different events/things. 

Also some things that originally were triggers will fade over the years and no longer hold the power that they once did.  In the first years after the death of my son I could not have his picture displayed in my house, now I have a photo of him in just about every room.  I also had difficulty listening to some types of music and this could cause a trigger of grief even when I went to stores or restaurants.  I am less affected now and although I still choose not to listen to certain types of music if it is playing in public places I am able to dismiss it and move on. 

After almost seven years I have learned many of the things that will trigger my emotions but as is the case with memories I can’t always predict what will produce the tsunami of grief.  I have learned to ride out the storm and over the years the good memories have made me stronger.  I know that I will end up back on shore and able to walk forward again, one step in front of the other.

Filling the Void--Grief and Addictive Behaviors

 

Sometimes grieving people will turn to unhealthy alternatives to fill the emptiness in their lives.  In my case, after the death of my son I filled the void by over-eating.  I already had a problem with weight and used food emotionally.  The loss of my son sent me into an eating frenzy trying to fill the hole in my heart by filling my stomach.  I ended up gaining 60 pounds!  It’s odd because in the initial weeks of grief I could hardly eat or drink and would have to force myself to get anything swallowed.  It was as if doing anything to provide fuel was counter to what my body was experiencing with the physical symptoms of grief.  That didn’t last and then I began the eating to excess.

Grief experts caution that grieving people may turn to addictive activities or substances in an attempt to cope with the loss.  Grieving individuals may increase their use of alcohol, abuse prescription medication, or begin using illegal substances as a way to self-medicate.  Unfortunately this usually results in further problems because the grieving person is already not functioning fully and these additional issues make life even more chaotic and sometimes dangerous.

Alcohol use is so prevalent in our society and because it is easily available, well-meaning friends or family may offer it to a grieving person to “calm their nerves”.  The problem is that alcohol is a depressant and if you are already in the throes of sadness due to grief this is going to make the problem worse.  In addition the physical toll from alcohol abuse will combine with the stress effects from the grief to make you even more exhausted and unable to cope with daily tasks. 

A message from the Dean of Students at Purdue University put it very well; “resorting to drugs [or alcohol] of any kind only turns down the sound while the music keeps playing.”  The grief is still going to be there and in the end you still must do the work to travel your own healing journey.  Nothing can take away the pain and numbing yourself to it will only delay the inevitable.  Many recovering addicts tell of beginning their addictions after a significant loss.  Once they become sober, even if it is a decade later, they still must experience the grief and go through a painful, delayed grieving process.

My use of food was my own negative coping behavior to try to shelter myself from the pain.  It didn’t work.  In addition to that I caused myself further health problems with increased blood pressure and high cholesterol.  The stress that my body was already experiencing was doubled because of my attempt to soothe myself rather than use healthier methods to grieve.  I have lost the weight and no longer look at food as “medicine”.

In my next post I will discuss some suggestions for healthy ways to help with healing on your grieving journey.

This Is Your Mind on Grief--Cognitive Changes

Two of the symptoms of early grief are difficulty with concentration and memory problems.  In my case I also experienced trouble finding the right word when talking.  The difficulty with concentration can prevent a grieving individual from being able to read a paragraph from the newspaper, watch a television show, or attend to daily responsibilities.  Memory problems can range from misplacing keys to forgetting what had transpired the prior day. 

When speaking, the grieving individual may have trouble articulating as well as they use to and when they are aware of the problem it can become a source of embarrassment and worry.  Many individuals suffering from these symptoms, including myself, wonder if there is something seriously wrong with them and if the changes are permanent. There have been research studies that have shown neurological and immunological changes may be involved in how individuals respond to grief.  There is also speculation that permanent changes in brain structure may happen like those that have been seen in individuals with major depression.

Next month will be the 7^th anniversary of my son’s death and as I reflect back on the first few months of grief I can see that the fear of never being able to concentrate again was unfounded.  I believe my concentration is as good as it was prior to my grief journey.  However I wonder about the other two symptoms.  I don’t have memory problems with current events or events prior to the accident but there are events in the first few weeks after my son’s death that I do not recall at all or only in pieces.  I think that may be a protective mechanism because my brain could not handle the trauma.  However I now wish I had a clearer picture of events such as the memorial service at the university and meeting with Robert’s friends and teachers.

I sometimes still have trouble finding words when I am speaking and this bothers me quite a bit. I have always loved words and enjoy verbal and written exchanges.  When I am speaking to someone and I can’t find the word I want to use, I will explain to the other person that this problem is a result of my experience with my son’s death.  As I get older I am sure that people have begun to think it is more of an age-related problem but I know that my brain was forever altered by the events of that April night.

I Didn't Tell My Son Goodbye and I'm Glad

The last time I spoke to my son was the morning before the plane crash that took his life.  He was in a hurry, as usual, so we talked briefly, we both exchanged “I love yous” and  he told me he would call me later.  He never did. 

Ever since that day I have trouble with any type of goodbye.  I sometimes wonder if that is a result of the loss of my only child or if it was the result of an experience I had early in my grieving journey.


Site of Plane Crash; Bloomington, Indiana

Shortly after my son’s death I went to see a grief counselor and she insisted that I write a letter to my son telling him goodbye.  She felt that this would be helpful. She believed that because of his sudden, violent death I hadn’t been able to say goodbye before he died like parents of ill children.  This was supposed to be an exercise to help me to come to terms with the loss and finality of his death.  It proved to be an awful experience for both the counselor and myself.  I was infuriated that I was told I had to tell him goodbye.  Although I realized he was gone and not coming back I refused to say goodbye, I wasn’t ready and I didn’t know if I would ever be ready—and that’s what I wrote.  This wasn’t well received by the counselor because I didn’t follow the “textbook” response to the exercise.  She and I argued over this issue as I tried to defend my position.  It was exhausting for me at a time when grief was already taking my energy—but I felt strongly about it and would not back down.  He was my son, my only child, and no one would tell me to say goodbye to him.

This experience and several other unfortunate experiences with other experts and first-responders was what convinced me that I wanted to become a counselor and to specialize in grief counseling. No one can tell you how to grieve; no one can take on the work of grieving for you.  You have to find your own path on your personal grief journey.   In writing this post I found online a story about a woman whose only son was killed by a train in 2003.  Maria Malin wrote a book about her journey, called “When You Just Can’t Say Goodbye, Don’t.”  Maybe I should send a copy to that grief counselor.

Grieving My Son...It is a Lifetime Endeavor

Last night I had a personal reminder that the grief wound may heal but the scar is always there.  I am in the process of “downsizing” my possessions in order to make a move to another apartment.  In an attempt to consolidate my boxes of memories of my son I decided that it was time to dispose of his middle-school yearbooks.  I don’t look at them and there isn’t anyone who wants them so I felt it was time to let them go along with many other things I had been storing.  I picked up one of the yearbooks and was putting it into the trash pile when two photographs fell out.  These photos were taken in 2003, about a year before my son died and I had never seen them before.  I can only guess that he put them in the yearbook to get them out of the way but I’ll never know.  The photo’s showed him looking happy and joking around with whoever was taking the pictures.  The one photo was of him standing at the stove of his apartment cooking up something.  Robert loved to cook for his friends and considered himself something of a gourmet.  The other picture was of him and his girlfriend at the time and they both were making goofy faces. 

It was a surprise that after 7 years I found pictures I had never seen before.  It was also a moment where I felt the pangs of grief for the life that was taken from him at age 24 and the future we would have had together.  However I also was able to appreciate the journey I have traveled through my grief. In spite of the sadness I felt I was able to smile at the young man in the picture and the memories of a time when he was so happy and creative and living life to the fullest.  I am so proud to be his mother.  I love you, Robert.

Two fathers started an initiative, the Farley-Kluger Initiative, in 2010 determined to amend the current Department of Labor FamilyMedical Leave Act (FMLA) to include bereavement leave for parents when their child, up to age 26, dies. 

At the present time the FMLA is a federal law that requires companies with 50 or more employees to afford their employees 12 weeks a year of unpaid time off for their serious health condition or that of their children up to age 18, spouse, and parents.  It also covers the employee after birth of a child or adoption placement. There is also a section related to military leave.  

The two men who began this initiative are both authors of books about their own grief journey after the loss of their children.  Barry Kluger’s only child, his 18-year-old daughter, Erica was killed in a car accident in 2001.  Kelly Farley’s daughter, Katie, and son, Noah, both died in infancy within 18 months of each other.  Kluger’s the author of A Life Undone: AFather’s Journey Through Loss.  Farley’s book is called Grieving Dads: To the Brink and Back.

After both Farley and Kluger’s lobbying attempts in Washington D.C. there has been legislature introduced in the Senate and the House to make this amendment happen. Currently there is a bill before the Senate.  However Farley stated that he was informed that only about 10% of the bills introduced are ever approved.  The two men have started a petition campaign online in order to get the word back to the legislature that people want this change.

I have mixed feelings about this amendment.  As a parent who was in this position almost 7 years ago my first reaction is that this is a wonderful change and is something that every parent needs.  The early stages of grief after the death of a child are so chaotic and life-altering that an individual’s focus is all-encompassed on dealing with the symptoms of the grief.  As I discussed in my previous post about grief in the workplace there are problems with concentration and memory that affect the worker’s performance and the probability of triggers that cause crying is always there.  This 12-week leave would give the grieving parent time to get past the most critical and intense grief period. 

However I am concerned about the employee whose spouse or parent dies.  These employees may have already been on an FMLA leave caring for the ill spouse or parent and once the death occurs the employee is no longer eligible for FLMA, has only the company’s bereavement time available (usually 1-3 days) and then must return to work.  This can be an awful predicament for an employee who is exhausted from being the caregiver for their loved one for weeks, has been experiencing anticipatory grief (I will discuss this in detail in a future blog) and is now in the full throes of early grief symptoms. 

Then there is the employee whose spouse dies unexpectedly leaving them with young children who are themselves grieving or the employee whose spouse had handled all of the household business and now the employee has to take over all of these responsibilities.  Both of these scenarios require concentrated time for the employee to be able to bring his or her life to a new normal and FMLA bereavement leave would be appropriated in these cases too.  Just as no one grieves the same, no loss is the same.  There is a general consensus that the death of a child is one of the most devastating losses and having experienced it personally I would have to agree.  However I also appreciate the fact that the initial grief after the death of a spouse or beloved parent can be a devastating blow. 

So, should this amendment be only for parental bereavement leave or be opened up to include the same criteria that the original FMLA covers and include spouses and parents?  In my opinion it should include these loved ones.  Most employees can not afford to take time off without pay therefore I do not believe that this will be an overused leave option which is the fear of opening it up to more reasons.

I would be interested to hear other people's opinions of this change in the FMLA.  What do you think? 

When Grief and Work Collide

In the United States the average bereavement leave is from 1 to 4 days.  What happens when the grieving employee returns to work?  People who are grieving often want to get back to their normal routine and going back to work offers them that chance.  However while grieving the individual may be having trouble sleeping, have changes in eating habits, have decreased energy levels, and be subject to crying spells.  Add these issues to the stress of a work day and this can be a recipe for an emotional roller coaster for the employee and confusing for co-workers.

When my son was unexpectedly killed in a plane crash nearly 7 years ago I was fortunate enough to have an extremely understanding boss who allowed me to take extra time beyond the 3 bereavement days provided. When I returned to work I was surprised by the different reactions I received from my co-workers.  Some of my co-workers would see me, quickly turn around and walk away, unable to face me and their own feelings about death and grief.  Other co-workers regaled me—on my first day back—with their tales of loss and grief, or those of someone else they knew, as a way to bond with me in some strange way.  Then there were the co-workers who saw me and broke down in tears.  The co-workers who helped the most were the ones who just told me they were glad I was back and went on about their day.

As the weeks went on my co-workers went back to their normal routine, but I was still experiencing grief and having difficulty concentrating and trouble with my memory which made working more difficult.  Worse yet were the unexpected triggers during the day that could start tears running down my face.  It could be something as simple as hearing a song in the hall that reminded me of my son or someone on the phone might have the same name or date of birth as my son.  Through it all I thought I was moving ahead, wiping the tears away, and still doing my work to the best of my ability.  I didn’t know that my co-workers were judging me.  Most of them felt like I should be “over it” by now and that there was something more ominous and serious wrong with me.  The biggest lesson that business and workers need to understand is that grief is not a predictable, neat process.  Everyone will experience grief differently and react differently.  Grief and the symptoms of grief do not stop after the 3-day bereavement leave from work!

With approximately one in four employees grieving at any one time there needs to be more understanding of the effects in the workplace.  I think that there needs to be education provided by the employer in order for the griever and those working with the griever to know what to expect—or more importantly, what not to expect.  Someone in who is already in an emotionally fragile state should not have to be concerned about how they are perceived at his or her workplace.  I’d like to hear from others about their experiences when grief and work collide.

Where is My Valentine? Grief and Holidays

I read a brief, interesting article online today about Valentine’s Day related to grief and loss.  Most people think about those who have experienced the loss of a loved one having to deal with the first major holidays such as Thanksgiving or Christmas or commemorating the first birthday following the death.  However for the grieving individual even the small holidays may bring back memories that cause a tsunami of emotions that are unexpected. 

I know that for me, personally, the first Halloween was difficult because it had always been an especially fun holiday in our house and my son had enjoyed it so much.  Five months after his death I walked into a craft store, saw the Halloween display and had feelings of gut-wrenching, unexpected grief.  I had to immediately leave the store and sat in my car in tears.  Now almost seven years later I can remember the holidays with my son with happy memories.  I still will remember him on Valentine's Day and think about previous Valentine's Days we spent together but there will be more smiles and less tears.

Grief is not a nice linear progression.  I have heard  grief explained like a walk along a beach. Sometimes the waves of grief merely come up and lap across your feet, at other times the waves swell up and almost carry you away.  Then there are times when the wave is so big and engulfing that it surprises you with its intensity and knocks you down and takes your breath away.  The longer you walk along the beach…or the more time into your grief journey the more you are able to expect the waves and ride them out.  It does get easier to ride the waves.

Elephants Never Forget and Neither Do Grieving Parents

An excellent book that explores life after the loss of an adult child is Our Walk With Elephants by Peggy Boon, Ph.D. and Bonnie Headington, Ph.D.  These authors have the distinction of not only being mental health professionals but also bereaved mothers.  One of their most salient points is the fact that bereaved parents continue to grieve over the years.  Once the acute grief is over there are reminders that happen daily, monthly, yearly, that awaken the pain of the loss. A reminder may be as simple as another child's college graduation, a wedding, or a birth.  All of these things will remind the parent of the events they will never experience with their child. The authors approached their need for answers as a research project.  They obtained participants and decided on questions they wanted to examine.  They then conducted structured interviews with the participants and the result is this book.  Although they took a scientific approach to the subject the book is a sensitive, narrative of personal stories of loss and common themes experienced by bereaved parents.

Knit one, Grief too

Ann Hood was a published writer prior to the unexpected death of her daughter, Grace, at age 5, from a severe strep infection. After the death of her daughter, Ann found like many of us have, that the problems with concentration during the early stages of bereavement made it almost impossible to read or to write. When those are the tools of your trade, or in my case reading was one of my favorite things to do to relax, and you are no longer able to perform them it is more than a little startling and unnerving. I wondered if I would ever be able to read a paragraph again. Ann wondered if she would ever write again.

Ann was no stranger to grief. Her brother, her only sibling, drowned in a bathtub when Ann was a graduate student. Soon after her sixty-seven year old father died after a six-month battle with lung cancer from fungal pneumonia. Shortly after her father's death, Ann experienced a miscarriage. Still even with the experience as a bereaved sibling, bereaved daughter, and finally her miscarriage, nothing prepared Ann for the extreme emptiness she experienced after Grace's death years later.

In her memoir recounting her daughter's death and the aftermath, Comfort: A Journey Through Grief, Ann talks about how people woudl often suggest that she write things down, express her feelings on paper, and this increased her anxiety with her inability to write and with their continued suggestions. Ann eventually found comfort in learning how to knit. Some people have written about the meditative effects of knitting and its almost healing quality.

When Ann was able to write again, a year and a half after Grace's death, she took her new interest in knitting and her knowledge of grief and blended them into a fictional book called The Knitting Circle. The book chronicles a story of a bereaved mother whose marriage ends after the child's death and the mother's discovery of knitting and a group of friends who offer each other the support and love that they each need.

Road Map for the Grieving Parent

The Bereaved Parent by Harriet Sarnoff Schiff.   Schiff was formerly a reporter, she has written two books on grief and has lectured extensively. She is also a bereaved parent. Her son, Robby, ten, died from complications after heart surgery. Her book is considered a classic guide for bereaved parents and has been recommended for years. In matter-of-fact terms, Schiff discusses the hard stuff and offers help for those who are suffering. She includes stories about her own journey and those of other bereaved parents. Her book is divided into easy to digest chapters discussing subjects such as bereavement and guilt; bereavement and marriage; bereavement and siblings; bereavement and religion; and the far-reaching bereavement and the rest of your life.

Schiff talks about taking small, positive steps even during the beginning stages of grief. Schiff gives examples for these small steps such as cleaning, cooking, or putting on make-up. She cautions that the steps will naturally cause pain, and the individual may not feel like attempting anything else for a period afterwards, but that done in small doses it does move the person forward in a positive manner.

Schiff's book ends with hope for the bereaved parent that there is a way through the sorrow. She notes that the bereaved parent no longer fears the unknown because they have faced the worst and survived. I can relate to her statement that the thought of living for any length of time after the death of my son was an awful thought. However, just like Schiff, as the years have gone my life has moved forward and I have managed to move through the seemingly unendurable pain of the beginning stages of grief to a time when there can be laughter and expectations of future events again.