The End of One Thing, The Beginning of Everything Else

How do I define myself now? What are my new priorities? Where do I focus my energy? These are all questions that immediately race through our minds at time of great loss in many cases. Of course rational thought would tell us that none of these decisions or questions need to be made or answered anytime soon. Time will bring about the needed answers and honestly we have very little control over time in the immediate. The loss of control and the change in the cadence of life were immediate emotional burdens that I felt. How do I do this? Who do I need to call? I have so many details to take care of. All these are part of the duties of the first day.

The Change of the Seasons of Life

When many of us think of the seasons of life we often view life as Spring (Birth), Summer (Growth), Fall (Maintenance), Winter (Rest). Loss changes all of this many times. I found the death of my spouse to be the ultimate winter emotional experience. The natural rhythm of life just switched and was turned upside down. Everything we had worked for, fought for, sacrificed for, joined forces for was removed from my existence that day. There were so many things we had shared, some private, some public, but most private, all of this had come to a screeching halt with her death. Suddenly we were traveling alone for the first time in forever, my wife to glory, me to the unknown. The "we" that was our mantra during our battle to overcome my wife's health challenges had been lost. The winter of my emotional attachment and in some respects the winter of our love had arrived on that fateful day. But wait a minute, the good book says "It is not good for man to be alone", what am I to do now? Now winter has come and I am left alone to figure out how to go it alone.

I experienced many things during the winter of my grief. The first emotion for me was shock. How could this happen? I know we still had health concerns to deal with, but we had been managing that forever. I even thought we were winning. With the shock comes the emotional cocoon which after the initial rush of emotional energy gives way to a draining range of emotions. Why is it that I can look at her picture and smile, then in the next moment be crying my eyes out? The energy drain manifest itself in the dust that collects, the mail that piles up on the table, the dishes that fail to be immediately run in the dishwasher and the endless hours that the television plays without me really caring if the program was good or not. I would later learn that this is what some had come to characterize as the "Apathy of Grief".

Initially like many others my energy level remained very high. I had no problem sleeping or attending to every detail that was necessary. There of course were calls to make, as well as a fitting service to plan. I handled all of those tasks as I was still taking care of "my girl". You see while the passing of someone naturally allows for most people to take stock of their relationship status with the person you just lost, often times people on the periphery often vie to become prominent in the plans and final arrangements we are often charged with making. Many times there are compromises to make, conversations to have and not have among the wide range of responsibilities that must be sorted through. In times such as these I highly recommend you find a "gatekeeper" for a brief period of time. This "gatekeeper" will serve as your companion, filter, errand runner and most importantly serve as a good listener. I was blessed to have an excellent gatekeeper in the person of my son. Any call I didn't want to take or detail I didn't want to handle, he was there for me. Having the right gatekeeper allows you to settle into the proper frame of mind, rest when you need to, go out when you have to and need to among other things. I know that my ability to navigate the immediate loss of my wife as well as I did was because I had a great gatekeeper.

As time passes your energy level varies. Eventually the calls stop, the first wave of decisions that need to be made are completed and you find yourself alone with your grief for what seems like the first time. For the first time in my case, the realization of how much of my life revolved around managing and caring for my wife's needs hit me. The role of caretaker was the most important role that I had and now that the need to maintain that role was complete was often disconcerting.

Throughout the First 365 you may find that your energy level will ebb and flow. I would encourage you to be patient with yourself. You may find that you have kept a close watch on the very narrow prism between your mental/emotional state and your physical energy levels. Another key individual that you may find value in is that "honest broker" to keep in regular contact with. This honest broker can be as informal as a personal friend, family member, member of a group you attend or as formal as a grief counselor or other professional.

The qualities that can be helpful in this individual often are some personal knowledge of the relationship between yourself and the person you lost, some meaningful experience with grief in their own life, the ability to listen without giving direction or advice too soon and the time that may be necessary to fulfill this role.

In the early stages of grief it is important to be aware of the need to set short term goals as you increase your activity. During one workshop I attended called "Surviving the Holidays" put on by the excellent organization "GriefShare." I received some wonderful advice when making my early return to social activities. The advice I was given was if possible drive yourself to social engagements early on. By doing so you control how long you stay and if the engagement becomes overwhelming you are not effecting anyone else's enjoyment of the gathering. Becoming overwhelmed and effecting others could result in not receiving future invitations and can lead to a form of social isolation. It is wise to avoid this from occurring as in time things will get better! For me personally, I found sporting events and movies with distinct start and finish times as helpful. These activities gave me the opportunity to lose myself in the story, to root for the outcome of the game, to have control over the degree of anonymity necessary to make it through that activity.

Our energy level can also be characterized by the emotions we are experiencing as well. Let's take a look at a few of these emotions and how our energy level may be affected by them.

Shock

Shock is a very common emotion experienced on some level by many people. Whether our experience is the result of a prolonged period of illness or a abrupt loss, some degree of shock in most cases will occur. Our reaction can range from a sudden rush of energy to a complete collapse. Whatever you find your experience to be, you will often find that your energy level is affected in some manner. It is also very important to remember that this reaction will be part of or share space with many other emotions simultaneously often vying for the level of energy you have.

Disbelief

Often this is characterized as the "wow" or the initial "ah ha" moment. Whether you see it as an inevitable eventuality or a lightning strike out of nowhere, disbelief will usually find it's way into your emotions. In the early stages of experiencing grief, anything that vies for your emotions will also require some expenditure of energy.

As previously stated this moment came for me as I was driving to the hospital, fresh clothes in tow with the intent to pick up my wife from the hospital after her most recent stay. Whew; I thought we had made it through the most recent interruption in the flow of our lives. But not so fast; by the end of the afternoon disbelief ruled the fabric of my emotions. What did I miss? What happened? How did it happen? These and many more questions often become a familiar discourse in your thoughts. However, it is important right here for me to encourage you to resist if possible the proclivity to hide from or deny the fact that disbelief exist of some level. I firmly believe that while difficult, disbelief is an important part of the emotional healing process in what will be a long road to establishing your new normal. For me this often is illustrated as a horse race. Death may bring you to the track, but disbelief often puts you in the starting gate!

Questioning

At the time of any loss, it is not unusual for many persons to experience some level of questioning This often-subtle behavior can have a significant effect on your energy level for a period of time. Questioning often times is experienced in two distinct forms. The first being "Internal Questioning" and the second "External Questioning". My experience like many caretakers came in the thoughts of "did I miss something" or could I have prevented the loss from occurring? The immediate answer in many cases honestly is yes. But realistically and naturally the long-term answer is that we have little influence over the outcome of the events leading up to the loss we experienced. In many cases we can be so intent on winning the war that we can overlook the small details of each battle. When dealing with individuals who have chronic health issues, the question of allowing the person you are caring for a modicum of dignity within this internal questioning can be very important. The the level of intensity at which you move through this period of internal questioning can have a profound effect on how soon you begin reclaiming a more acceptable and sustainable level of energy. Along with the "Internal Questioning", some may experience some level of "External Questioning". Based on the level of intensity or intent, this can be me more difficult to manage. These questions may be posed by family members, friends, business associates or even strangers. Often this phase of questions can be exhausting. It is very important during external questioning to be able to gauge your capacity to handle this form of questioning. A recommendation that I would offer would be that if you are an individual that has some difficulty setting boundaries, this may need to be something that is best handled by the person serving as your gatekeeper for a period of time. Eventually as the level of your energy returns to an acceptable level, you will be able to handle these inquiries on your own.

Anger

Anger is a natural emotion that most individuals experience on some level during the grief experience. Who the anger is directed at can vary based on how this anger manifest itself. Personally, I did not experience any anger towards my wife. It is not uncommon to direct some anger toward the deceased. There has been much debate regarding the appropriateness of expressing anger toward the deceased. However, in many cases this is a form of coping with the pain associated with the loss. Anger can greatly affect the energy level of individuals and must eventually be managed. However, there is no specific timeline for "managing" this emotion

Frustration

Eventually for most people the level of energy returns to a more appropriate level over time. My reason for using the term appropriate is based on the premise that in many cases there may be a prolonged period before one's energy level returns to pre-loss levels. In my experience the first level I experienced after the shock of losing my wife was one of frustration. For me frustration does not burn with the white-hot fury of anger or even rage some may experience. Frustration however does take energy when experienced.

Frustration manifested itself in many ways for me. The complexity of making plans, the loop of the events that just occurred, the strangers that can give themselves license to have those far too intimate conversations concerning your loved one. My way of coping with the initial wave of frustration was by giving everyone a "two-week pass"

The two-week pass centered around the fact that within the first two weeks after my wife's death I wouldn't hold anything that anyone did or said during that period against them in any way. Now I cannot be benevolent enough to say that I didn't remember what was said and who said it, but I wouldn't react or challenge the behaviors in any way during that two-week window. In my experience thankfully almost, all the individuals who made what could mildly be called inappropriate statements, or behaviors were never heard from again. By this being the norm for me, there were little to no long-term issues to address. Eventually the waves of frustration give way to the eventual return of an acceptable level and the introduction of sadness. When experiencing a significant loss sadness moves into your life like a new long term neighbor. It takes up residency in your heart and mind. It makes itself at home and whether you like it or not becomes a new companion in your life. When the calls end and all the casseroles are eaten (or in most cases thrown out), sadness takes up residency in your existence. Though having been experienced on some level before, every new dose of sadness has its own style. Sadness seems to know much more about what you need and can handle many times than even you do. If you are not careful you can find yourself at odds with your sadness when all sadness is trying to do is to help you cope, heal and survive. Whether you like it or not sadness is going to be a long-term companion in your life and will be around to teach you lessons that while you are not ready to take the course it will teach you, you will be enrolled in it's class. I found sadness to be in time a most appreciated partner. Sadness has become a great teacher, healer, a wonderful listener, an honest broker of truth and the strong set of arms that pushed me toward having the courage to keep moving forward. While initially very prominent in my psyche, sadness has a wonderful maturity that over time blends in the background but always is there when you need to lean on it when necessary. I found sadness to be a great and reliable tool in life.

The second area of change in my life was a significant shift in my priorities. This shift came in three specific areas for me. The first being in what motivated me in my life. Throughout my relational and married life I was largely motivated by playing the role of protector and provider in my marriage. Like so many people the success in fulfilling these roles ebbed and flowed over time. In my case I was wonderfully blessed with a wonderful wife that had both a successful and fulfilling career. Due to how much she enjoyed her career, I often passed on opportunities to advance my own career to make sure that she could continue to enjoy hers. I always saw myself as resourceful enough to navigate around self-serving ambition at the cost of my wife's happiness. So, with my wife's illness and subsequent inability to continue to work, I became highly motivated to make sure I could provide for her care in any way I could. Fortunately, together we were able to do so and positioned ourselves to where no stone was left unturned in making sure she had the care she needed. Making sure she was taken care of was the primary motivation that I had in life.

With my wife's death one of the early mental adjustments I experienced was a shift in what motivated me. For the first time in decades, I was the focus of my motivation. To say that this fact was disconcerting would be an understatement. I found myself completely unfamiliar with making myself my primary responsibility. In the beginning stages of doing so I found myself feeling some level of guilt, unfamiliarity and even confusion. What was it that I wanted, why I wanted it became an all too familiar companion of my thoughts. Luckily for me however I could fall back on a familiar friend, baseball. You see through baseball I could give myself time to figure out how to piece together this new experience called life without my wife. Secondly, I also had the support of my gatekeeper in this transformation. You remember the concept of having a gatekeeper we discussed earlier, My gatekeeper was my son, who during this time continually encouraged me to move forward even when I may have not wanted to or didn't know how to. I recall one conversation that my son and I had that changed everything for me. One day he came by to visit and observed me doing what I am often doing when he comes by, watching television. However, of this day I guess he had seen enough and this was the profound exchange that we had that day:

Pop! Pop! What are you doing?

Uh I am watching TV I replied confused, Pop you got to get out of that chair and move on with your life.

What do you mean? I am just watching TV!