Reflection on Grief & Loss
Hello World!
I’m still alive. Just thought I should drop some quick words to let you know that I’m still breathing and kicking over here. Are you still here with me, or have I lost you? I hope life has been kind to you and your loved ones.
It’s quite late (or early in the morning) in my corner of the world as I begin to write this. My home is clean, my laundry is folded, and my Honey is curling up in her own bed. I finally get to take a long exhale. I love how quiet it is now, when the world around me is asleep. There is an utter sense of calm and peace that comes with moments like this—it’s when I can hear my thoughts better.
Though there have been many ideas and stories swirling around in my head, finding the time and energy to sort through them has been a challenge. It’s been a while since I got any quality time for myself or a chance to sit down for any writing, as the demands of my real life and caregiving responsibilities have kept me running on overdrive and left me quite spent, physically, mentally and emotionally.
I was away dealing with my father’s health crises (non-COVID related), which started in early February and further led to a cascade of major life events over the past months. The month of April was the last stretch of the storm, and it took the last reserve of my energy. My brain was all mushed! And it’s still mushed. I’ve been finding time in between my daily obligations to rest and restore my energy. My body is still in recovery. And I still have other things, feelings and thoughts to unpack around here.
Being a primary caregiver with no other help, there were difficult decisions and certain sacrifices I had to make in order to support my father’s needs and preserve his life. I can only imagine how difficult it would be for anyone to assume a caregiver’s role to an elderly parent without help, without a Social Work background, or without any life experience in navigating the intersection of physical and mental health of older adults, especially those who have a language barrier, become incapacitated and are highly vulnerable. These fragile human beings, despite being in adult bodies, return to becoming children once again, losing much of their independence, certain skills and abilities to advocate for themselves and accomplish basic daily tasks—such privileges that many of us in able bodies tend to take for granted.
Reflection on Grief and Loss
It has been my observation, that here, in the West, our society places so much emphasis on celebrating the beginning of life and many other “happy” milestones. We work so hard to stay young and glorify youthfulness, all the while, we avoid to deal with the most inevitable major life transition—death and dying. We’re so terrified at the thought or even the mentioning of grief and loss, until they come knocking on our door. And even then, some of us still fight it, deny it, and run away from it.
It is easy to see how this is all played out around us, with ads, campaigns and commercials promoting all kinds of beauty products, beauty regimen and cosmetic procedures to fight against the aging process, all because we’re so afraid of growing old, as if it’s some kind of plague. Many of us forget that growing old, death and dying are all parts of a life cycle.
It is quite silly that even the standard US bereavement policy only allows a fulltime employee three days to attend funeral and mourn the death of an immediate family member. We treat grief like it’s some kind of a light switch that we can turn on and off, conveniently within three days, or up to five days if the employer is being generous.
And what about other tangible and intangible losses that we often don’t talk about or take the time to process? Like loss of a job, loss of money, loss of home, loss of health, loss of hope, loss of dream, loss of freedom, loss of identity, loss of love, loss of connection, loss of a pet, loss of a life we used to have, loss of relationships through breakup, separation or divorce.
We often try to minimize the pain and compartmentalize it, so that we don’t look a mess. We’d rather dive into other distractions to numb our pain, because admitting it to ourselves and showing our vulnerability still aren’t a good look in our society. Yet, the pain of loss is one of the hardest we ever have to experience. But what if we acknowledge it and honor it? There is so much beauty in it as it teaches us about life and living.
I’d like to think, that the point where the light and the dark merge, where the end greets a new beginning, where the page turns and the last chapter meets the next, that is where miracles and our transformation take place. Be it anger, guilt, sadness, grief or loss, let that pain flow through you, transform you from the inside out and show you a brand new way of being. So that you can start again. Brand new.
After all, how would one know how to live, authentically and humbly, if one didn’t have an encounter with death? How would one know how to love unconditionally and cherish what one has if one didn’t experience deep loss? Such growth can only be learned through loss.
As a collective, we’ve been through quite a lot of losses together over this past year, haven’t we? If you have experienced any loss, I send you love. Please know that you are not alone.
I will write more along this theme in a later blog, hopefully before May is over. In the meantime, please take great care of yourself and your loved ones.
Resources:
If you don’t know this already, I highly recommend that you or your family take time and discuss Advance Healthcare Directive and Power of Attorney with your loved one(s) while they are still in good health, before any life-threatening condition takes place. Life can change in a blink of an eye, so it’s best to have these documents ready.