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September 30, 2005

Sad Dreams, Tears and Melancholy

The world outside my window is sunny and beautiful today, I'm sure there's not a cloud or shadow to be found, but behind my bamboo blinds I'm feeling a strange disconnect. I awoke about an hour ago in tears. I'd been dreaming that I was looking through an album of pictures of my brother Matt. Matt died when I was 12, over twenty years ago now, but I don't believe I really started to grieve him until I was in my 30's.

In a way it seems odd to me to experience grief in such a delayed manner, but earlier this year I took the time to write out my thoughts on the significance of grief. My grandmother passed away in January (read my brother Dave's account here) and at that time I did a lot of mental processing both of her death, as well as revisiting my brother's death. Here are my thoughts on the grieving process.

It seems that all my life I've been told that grieving
someone who's died is "selfish" because they are in a much
better place now. I've come to reject that idea, and
embrace grief and the grieving process as healthy. For me,
grieving is not simply just feeling sorry that someone is
no longer with us, but is a way of honoring that person.
Grief acknowledges the place that person held in our life,
and allows the mind to rearrange things so that we will be
able to continue on in the absence of that person.

Stifling the grieving process by dismissing it as
selfishness prevents the mind from releasing the person
who's passed on, and traps us in an unhealthy mindset. I
really don't believe that I was helped to grieve when Matt
died, and didn't really come to grieve him until nearly
twenty years after his death. What I do remember is being
instructed that our place was to help others express their
grief, but our own grief was dismissed.

The one thing I am ever greatful for was Uncle Vic, who
attended the family viewing the day of the funeral. I
think that being a doctor gave him a perspective on grief
that he acted on in giving me a memory that I will hold
onto forever. I remember him standing by the casket with
me, taking my hand and placing it gently over Matt's hand.
I remember the feel of his skin, cold and soft against
mine, but a very real connection between us. And that
connection is what I hold onto now that I'm free to embrace
that grief, and know that it is a healing process.

Posted by Anna at September 30, 2005 12:29 PM

Comments

Thanks for writing that, Anna. I really felt like I needed to keep myself together too when Matt died. I remember that we went to church -- as usual -- the night that he died!

Posted by: Dave at September 30, 2005 5:23 PM

I remember going to church that night too, I wonder if the knee-jerk "life must go on" reaction was developed as a survival skill back when we were cavemen?

Posted by: anna [TypeKey Profile Page] at September 30, 2005 8:02 PM

Thanks for coming by my site and leaving a comment.

Even tho it may be late, grieving now is better than never dealing with it.

-k-

Posted by: kristie at October 1, 2005 1:01 AM

I did not go to church that night, and you children who did chose to at the time for whatever reasons. I was willing that you do either, but I know I did not go or drive anyone. I didn't make anyone stay home. Do you have a copy of the book you wrote in the next weeks after Matt died? I personally grieved a great deal the November before he died in February...and Christmas Eve...and many weeks afterward. There are surprise grief experiences from time to time all these years, and they are healthy, real and important -- not selfish. Good grief! M

Posted by: Anonymous at October 2, 2005 10:11 PM

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