|
Article:
Coping with Grief - It's Called Living Through It by: Gail H. Stone 'Dad, I tried to wake Nana, I think she's dead.' 'Grandpa died yesterday.' 'Oh my God, Daddy's dead.' 'Uncle Jack died today.' 'Grandma died last night.' 'I'm standing with the body of your deceased father-in-law.' 'Hon, I think we should get a divorce.' 'I'm sorry, but we weren't able to resuscitate your mother.' 'Mike called. He thinks Mary is dead.' 'I'm sorry to leave this on your voice mail, but Uncle Andy died last night.' This litany of phone calls and conversations on death or parting has all occurred in the past 30 years of my life, most in the last 20. Whether I was the one delivering or receiving these messages, the speaking of each one was the start of the long, seemingly endless process of grieving. Often, I felt so sucker punched that I doubted I could go on. Getting up the next day seemed impossible, yet somehow I almost always did. Something deep inside told me I had to, that there was no other way to get through it, but to keep moving. I attribute that to my deep belief in a higher plan and a sense that getting through this trial was like going through a tunnel. I told myself that if I put one foot in front of the other, I would eventually come out the other side and be able to feel somewhat whole again. Sometimes, it was all I could do to put one toe in front of the other, but all forward movement I deemed positive. The last five instances happened within the past five years, with my mother and sister-in-law and godfather's deaths back to back in ''99
|
