Good grief
By Rhona Canoy
SO... Less than two weeks into the new year and a number of my friends have passed away, and some others have lost dearly loved members of their families. We often limit our thoughts on grieving and sorrow to these losses, and yet all of us go through the sad process all through our lives without realizing it.
The loss of a loved one is what first comes to mind because this is an intense emotional trauma. The thought of never seeing someone dear ever again is overwhelming and heartbreaking. For those of us who have deep attachments to our four-legged members of our family, their deaths affect us as well. Although it seems insane for those who don’t have a bond with their pets, it is just as painful.
But grief is not limited to these circumstances. We don’t realize that we suffer losses throughout our lives, and we grieve those losses as well. As small children, we suffer the pain of saying goodbye to things we hold dear. A favorite toy, close friends who move away and out of our lives, having to transfer schools and be torn away from what is familiar and meaningful to us—all these are losses that we mourn as well.
From a psychological and physical standpoint, there is validity in acknowledging these losses. Grief can affect us negatively in ways we don’t even realize. Some people get depressed, some people get sick. Others find it difficult to understand and justify the loss. Sometimes we can get angry because of it. Other times, we can lose motivation and drive. And we often don’t associate it with anything, much less our grief.
Losing one’s home, or even moving from one home to another can be traumatic. So can losing or leaving a job. We don’t give these events much value because we think of them as part of life. But these losses represent some kind of death in some way. Yet we don’t recognize that we must mourn them.
What do we hope to accomplish by mourning? We cannot and should not run away from grief. It is part of the natural order of things. To mourn the passing of someone or something affirms that these have value to us. A loved one can be someone or something. It is the loss, their being removed from us, that we mourn.
Let me tell you a strange story. For those of us who have dogs as part of our close family circle, the thought of losing them doesn’t strike us as painful until it happens. It gets much worse when circumstances warrant that you have to go to the vet and have them put to sleep. Because they’re old, because they’re sick and can’t be made well again, because they’re in pain. Having to make that decision is truly heartwrenching.
Most pet owners don’t think about what their dog is going through as well. These are intelligent, sentient creatures. They can sense that something will happen, and they get terribly distressed. Most vets will take the pet into an examining room, while owners (who are the most important in the creature’s life) will prefer to sit outside and wait for the deed to be done. What they don’t realize is that this is when their pets need them to be present the most, in their final moments.
As much as I was shattered by the decision to put my Pitpit out of his pain and misery, I chose to cuddle him while the vet injected, first, a strong sedative to calm him; and, a few minutes later, something to stop his heart. I could see the life fading from his once bright brown eyes. He watched me crying, but I hope he got comfort in being in my arms. I was inconsolable when the animal doc confirmed that his heart had stopped. Forever.
Eventually, I had to go through the terrible pain of watching life leave my mother’s pain-filled body. That tragedy is indescribable. And yet to be present when she took her last breath gave me comfort in a way that is difficult to explain. And at that moment, I was awed by the gift my Pitpit had given me. That I was given the greatest gift to say goodbye to mama, in spite of the deep sorrow that she would never be there again to hear me complain about life, or to fight with her, or to see the delight in her eyes when there was durian. That was also indescribable.
For, in the end, that’s what grief is. To say goodbye to someone or something we love, cherish, value. To come to terms with knowing that some important, great part of our lives has ended. And that something has changed forever. And we go through this time and time again in our lives, not being conscious of the value of what we are losing or have lost. And that all the small griefs are preparing us for the great ones we must face. And that life goes on until it’s someone else’s turn to grieve for us. That, I think, is the true circle of life.
Now, losing your cellphone? That’s a whole ’nother story.
