It is amazing how circumstances in life touch you, form you and change your future. As I grew up, I really didn’t understand about loss and grief. My goldfish died and I had a little burial in the back yard. I also once found a baby sparrow that had fallen out of its nest and died.
People have told me many stories about loss and grief. My mom, in particular, talked about when her father died and then her mother. I would listen, not realizing that grief is like a shadow that is always with us and follows our steps.
My mom told a story of when she was sitting beside my grandmother as she was dying. “My grandmother suddenly looked up at the corner of the room and said, “Why Charlie” — as if she were looking right at her husband who had died many years before. My mother was certain that he was present that day and my grandmother saw him. My grandmother died that same day several hours later. As I was growing up, there were many stories — beautiful loving stories about life and death.
And then, my husband died, and the world as I knew it changed forever. Everything came to a standstill. My world was in slow motion, detached from me, and yet, the grass still needed mowing, the car had to be filled with gas, I still needed to buy groceries. Friends called and asked if I needed anything. How could I explain to my friends that nearly every moment of every day there was a reminder that I was alone: the silence in my house, the meals that were made just for one, decisions that my husband and I had always shared, now had to be made by me.
I felt I was being tested.
My septic tank failed. I discovered holes around my chimney and a colony of bats decided to move in. A mink mined a hole in my house’s foundation and started a warm winter den; all problems that couldn’t wait and needed to be solved. I lay awake at night, traumatized by all the things I had to do alone.
Grief is different for everyone, just like our lives are different. Over 30 years ago, I went to Juneau-Douglas High School to hear Elizabeth Kubler-Ross speak about the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance, but when my parents died and then my husband, and then my sister, I rejected these stages. I felt they did not apply to me. The shadow of my grief covered the sun. I tried to participate, but I felt lost and not myself. I felt disassociated from my friends and the world. My life was filled with constant reminders.
It has been 12 years since my husband died. Do the memories go away? No. Do they stay in your heart? Yes. Do I talk to Bob in my heart and mind? Oh yes. I know now that he will always be with me and is happy in my happiness. I have learned that loneliness can go away and be replaced with solitude. I can now see again the wonder in the eyes of a child and the twinkle in the eyes of people around me.
How do you deal with grief and loss? Grief is part of life and something we should all talk about more openly. It is part of our lives on a daily basis. And is it is not always due to a death; it can be a divorce or end of a long friendship. Sometimes we are grieving and we are not even aware of it.
I am inviting you to share about grief and to understand when and how you can help others at 5:30 p.m. on April 28 at Centennial Hall. The Foundation for End of Life Care and AARP have put together a discussion panel so grief does not stay a shadow in your life. I am reminded many times of something Helen Keller said, “When one door of happiness closes another opens, but often we look so long at the closed door, we do not see the one which has opened.” Many doors have opened for me. This panel will help you to find your door and to open it.
• Virginia Palmer is the former President of the Foundation of End of Life Care and a resident of Juneau.
