Loss of A Sibling by P. Gill White, PhD

September 16, 2008 by Guest Post  
Filed under Grief and Faith, Uncategorized

For many years I have denied the unusual experience that happened to me when my sister Linda was in the hospital just prior to her death from cancer at the age of 13.  I realize now that this was a significant part of my spiritual journey.   

She had been in the hospital for nearly 4 months.  One night, I was asleep at home when I heard her softly calling my name….”Pat….Pa-a-a-t” –over and over.  I woke up and looked around.  The room was dark but a little light came in from the streetlights outside.  I got out of bed and went to the window.  I still remember looking up the street and seeing only the yellowish light on the sidewalk. I heard her call again…”P-a-a-a-t……P-a-a-a-t”.   I couldn’t tell if it was coming from outside of me or inside my own mind.  This scared me.  

I turned to the door and opened it to go wake up my mother.  But as I opened my door, my mother was opening hers, and we both said at the same time,  ”I hear Linda calling me.”  Just then, the phone rang.  It was someone at the hospital calling to say that she was hemorrhaging and wouldn’t last long.  She died a few hours later.   

At first, I told myself that she was reaching out to me at the time when she was hovering between life and death–a way of saying good-bye.  I was fifteen and able to accept that kind of thinking.  Later, I rejected my adolescent belief and convinced myself that this event was merely a coincidence.  That somehow, my subconscious mind had figured out when she was going to die, and woke me up.  I became a rationalist.  If I couldn’t see it or touch it, it didn’t exist.  Gradually, however, as the years went by, I stopped caring about explaining it rationally and just accepted that it happened.   

My sister’s death has shaped my life and I have spent a great many of my adult years working as a counselor with people who have lost a brother or sister.  Hundreds of people have told me stories similar to mine, about how their brother or sister came to them in a dream to say good-bye, or came to visit them just before being killed in a car wreck, or ‘happened’ to run into them the day before they died, even though they hadn’t seen each other in years.   I now believe that the connection between loved ones is so strong that it transcends death.   

Antoine de St. Exupery, in his book, The Little Prince, said it simply,  “And now here is my secret, a very simple secret; it is only with the heart that one can see rightly, what is essential is invisible to the eye.”  

I do not understand the spiritual world, but I believe it exists.  It no longer scares me to think about things that I can’t explain.  I trust in that connection and just accept it. That is enough for me now.   

P. Gill White, PhD Director, The Sibling Connection www.siblingconnection.net

On Choice and Grief by Henya Shanun-Klein, Ph.D.

September 11, 2008 by Guest Post  
Filed under Grief and Faith, Uncategorized

Printed with permissions and courtesy of
Dr. Henya Shanun-Klein, Ph.D.

When Grief drags us down, leaving us breathlessly beat at the bottom of bottoms - we are confronted with a dilemma: should we stay ‘down under’? Or should we make an effort to surface, to breathe again? Staying ‘down under’ means to, eventually, die of suicide. Question: Is that what our living or dead children want or would have wanted us to do? If the answer is “no!” then there’s only one true option: Re-learn to breathe, re-learn to live, learn to find new meaning in life. 

As described in Gili’s Book, when I realized that my grief for Gili was not a task to be completed, a stage or a phase to be over with, or a condition that I would eventually recover from, but rather a new existential state that will last a life time, I first perceived my condition as a punishment that I deserved - for failing to protect my child, for failing to save her life, for surviving her! The realization that grief is life long was tinted with self-blame and guilt, the closest I could get, emotionally, to feeling dead. But, using my bereavement model’s terminology, in my ongoing journey of readjustment to living without Gili, in the fluid motions/steps Inward, or soul searching, and Outward, or attempts of reconnection with life - my guilt and self-blame were eased off. I recognized the normalcy of this new state. I was not going crazy - feeling self-blame, guilt and shame, and wishing to drop dead; feeling rage at the ‘world’ who kept going as if nothing had happened, hearing Gili’s voice, feeling her presence, yearning to be with her, all that and much more, was common! I was not the only one feeling that. Other bereaved parents felt just like me regardless of the number of years that have passed since their child’s death. I carried with me Gili’s Real-Image. This is the past-oriented image. The actual memories of her imprinted on every cell of my being by her physical life, and to be stored for as long as I shall live. I, gradually, developed a Shadow-Image, a future-oriented image of Gili, characterized by ‘what if’ type thinking: What if she survived her injuries, what kind of life would she have lived today? I discovered that other parents were as attached to their deceased child as I am, again, regardless of the years that have passed since their child’s death. The realization that grief is life long and that all of its manifestations as exaggerated as they may appear both to the grieving parent and to the outside observer, and as prolonged as they may seem, are all normal - is comforting now. It was not a punishment any longer. Then, using again my Model’s terminology, I started noticing Turning Points in my mourning. Mental and physical energy shifted intentionally toward reconnection to the outside world - each one representing a step toward the definition of a new mission in life. My ultimate goal became to turn surviving into living by finding new meaning in my life. Finding new meaning had to include Gili’s dreams and assumed goals, redefining my relationships with my surviving son, with my spouse, with other family relatives, with colleagues and friends, new and old. I approached each one of these goals and relationships, with a mind frame that whatever they and I experience at the moment is temporary - it may change in time. I examined each relationship by asking myself: how important is this person to me, now? Is this person contributing to my well being or is he/she ‘sucking’ the little life I had left in me? Is the relationship reciprocal or one-sided? Do I ‘suck the life’ out of them? Do I have the energy or the motivation to change anything? Can I reassure those that were central to my existence that although Gili is at the center of my visual field - after all, I was the self appointed family historian, that they are not forgotten. I knew that my grief needs ‘space’ and time to unfold. And still the question remained: How does it happen?

At our lowest point in our lives, we are faced with the greatest challenge of all: How to learn to live a meaningful life again?

When a child of ours dies we had no choice about the ‘event’ and about the grief we felt engulfing us immediately. We might have felt controlled by our grief. Within the first couple of years into grief, in our search for answers, we usually find all the ‘proof’ needed to affirm an existing belief we have about life and death, or to develop a new one. But whether we believe in the survival of the soul or that death is the end of all life, of all energy, we nevertheless, do not detach ourselves from our children.

Then, we could not detach ourselves from our grieving self. But, as time passes since our child’s death, we notice a change: As we readjust to life, we re-gain a new mastery on life. We engulf grief; we integrate it into daily living. We realize now that we have a choice of keeping our experience/ our memories of the ‘event’ - at any degree of closeness, attachment, or distance, detachment that we need or can bear at the moment. We can choose now when to turn ourselves in, and when to turn ourselves out/away. We know already that even when we allow ourselves to hit bottom, that we will somehow surface to catch our breath - that we will survive. The worst already happened.

When our grief is acute, we may experience great paradox: At the same time that we felt disassociated with life we were also most connected to life. Think of how acutely sensitive you were to sounds, sights, smells, and touch. How sharply you might have remembered everything that was connected to your child’s death but nothing that happened to you at the time.

It may feel as if grief causes us to be scattered, absent minded, but in fact, grief forces us to focus and preserve energy for what is truly important, or even crucial for our survival. It may seem as if we are more distracted, while in fact, we are more focused on what is relevant to our survival at the moment. We may appear forgetful, but we do remember only what is important to us now. It is as if we shifted events or people from the center of our visual field to our peripheral vision. We are still paying attention to those in our peripheral field, but less than to those at the center.

It is our intelligence, our creativity, our faith, our trust in ourselves and in others, our ability and willingness to accept a helping hand, our acknowledgment of our vulnerability, and our openness to the suffering of others around us, that will enable us, ultimately, to discover ways of reconstruction of new meaning in our lives.

Some will interpret information presented to them as ‘signs and signals’ thus uncover new meaning; others will pay attention to dreams and will derive strength from repeated themes. Others yet, will discover new pathways by re-defining new missions and re-directing their lives accordingly. The result of this search for new meaning may be in volunteering to help others in pain, in expanding or changing professional interests. I redirected my career to the exclusive study and treatment of the bereaved. Some find new meaning in acts of commemoration of their children. I have been doing that too. It is as if we have made a choice to respond to a higher calling.

When we realize that Grief is not an external entity engulfing us, but rather an integral part of our self - we are relieved - not imprisoned by our grief any longer. This is not to say that we detach ourselves from our children. We, as parents, remain attached to our children whether living or dead. The sense of relief comes from our new ability to detach ourselves, temporarily, from the memory of the event of death - in order to catch our breath, to continue grieving, to make space to emotions additional to Deep Sadness. Grief is only one type of connection to our deceased children, a connection we don’t want nor can we lose. Our grieving self, just like our loving self, constantly challenges us to grow, to expand, and to enlighten.


For more articles on coping with grief visit Dr. Shanun-Klein’s Grief Notes at Gili’s Place.

Henya Shanun-Klein, Ph.D., formerly Kagan (Klein),  is a bereaved mother, psychologist, author, and speaker. You can learn more about Henya at Gili’s Place, her site honoring her daughter Gili . Her book Gili’s Book: A Journey Into Bereavement for Parents and Counselors can be purchased through amazon.com

Copyright (c) 2000 Henya Shanun-Klein

Grief and Spirituality

Even the most faithful of faiths and belief-systems have had the foundations of their existence challenged by death for millenniums. Just ask anyone who has suffered a devastating loss, and you will find many who agree. I, along with millions of others across the world was shocked when letters written by by Mother Theresa of Calcutta revealed that she was long-tormented by doubts in her faith, having witnessed so much suffering and death firsthand during her lifetime. Yet it is these very doubts that reaffirm the human nature in Mother Theresa (and all of us), and ultimately bears witness to the great strength of her faith. After all, did she not persevere with her work to alleviate suffering until her final days, despite all of her tormenting doubts?

Having one’s faith challenged by a devastating loss is not uncommon and, in fact, seems quite a natural response to the death of a loved one that brings such great pain and so many unanswerable questions. It is okay to be angry with your god if that is what you feel, because all feelings are valid. For the greatness in God is in knowing that He understands your anger and doubts, and most surely expects them.

In the end it is reconciliation, one way or another, which really matters. Perhaps you will relinquish your faith in the face of adversity and travel a new path; or maybe you will explore your faith in a new light and persevere like Mother Theresa, despite your doubts.

These questions have plagued the masses since the beginnings of humankind, but they also open new paths that can lead to great spiritual growth, peace and solace through life’s challenges. To doubt is simply human nature.

 

John Pete, GC-C, is a Certified Grief Counselor and Founder of www.MyGriefSpace.Net

Testimony of a Suicide Survivor

January 3, 2007 by The Grief Blog  
Filed under Featured Articles, Uncategorized

I am a suicide survivor. I am also a Christian. This article explains how anyone, but especially people of faith, can survive or help others to survive the tragedy of a suicidal death of a family member or close friend.

My father committed suicide with an overdose of prescription medicine taken in conjunction with alcohol. Alcohol is a depressant that exacerbates suicidal tendencies in those who are prone to such self-destructive acts. I was 16 years old at the time. I was wrongly ashamed of my father’s suicide for most of my life. In fact, that feeling of shame is one of the great regrets of my life. With the combination of drugs Read more

The Grief And Belief Connection

“Grief is healing: To take away our grief is to take away our healing. And learning about life after death helps us heal with greater hope, comfort and peace.” ~ Bob Olson

In approximately five years of investigating the possibility of life after death, I have discovered convincing evidence that there really is an afterlife, that we really do continue to exist after death, and that our loved ones continue to watch over us and guide us in the spirit world. But this is just the beginning of my discoveries. Read more

The Empty Chair Around The Holiday Table

November 22, 2006 by The Grief Blog  
Filed under Featured Articles, Uncategorized

Many Americans will be sitting down together around the dinner table very soon, to celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah or Kwanza. These dinners re-enforce a sense of shared family values, a feeling that all is right with the world as long as we can be together at holiday time.
But the truth is, all may not be in order at the holiday table. There will be empty chairs this year, chairs that were filled last year with our beloved parents or grandparents or close friends, those who have died and gone on to their next journey. We will look around and those Read more

Understanding Your Grief

Grieving is part of the realities of life. Losing a loved one is one of the most painful and profound losses of all. Every one of us has experienced or will experience grief at some time in our lives. It is a devastating feeling of sadness and loss. Often times this process is accompanied by physical aches, pains and even serious illness.

Grieving for someone we love is human nature. Even with the realization that life terminates with death, we are never really prepared to lose someone we love. Just the thought of losing somebody we love can send a shiver down our spines and maybe tears to our eyes. According to experts, no one can be fully prepared for the full impact of the death of a loved one and the emotional strain that accompanies it. We often go into the denial of the accepting death and our grief. This modern world, has left us little to prepare ourselves for death and grief. We rely so much on major medical advances that sometimes these make us believe that we can cheat death with the miracles of modern medicine. When these fail us, we are left devastated and sometimes unable to cope.

Understanding the grieving process is important in helping someone cope with it, learn and grow from the experience.

Experts say that we usually go through three predictable stages of grief when we lose someone dear to us.

First is the initial stage of shock, numbness and denial. Shock is the very first reaction to a major loss. It is during this stage that we refuse to believe that somebody we love just left us in this world. The person experiencing this stage is in a trance-like state and will sometimes rationalize that the death of his loved one isn’t real and everything is a dream. There is a physical state of alarm with the person experiencing sweaty palms, icy fingers, trembling and disorientation. Usually the level of shock or trauma depends on how the death occurred and where and when it happened. Death caused by long standing illnesses might trigger lesser shock than those totally unexpected deaths probably due to accidents and homicides.

The second stage is anger, helplessness, depression, guilt and fear. During this stage there is already awareness of the person’s loss. The person experiencing this stage usually exhibits strong emotion and uncontrollable weeping. She may start to long for the dead person and since there is no fulfillment in the longing, she may feel deep frustration. A feeling of anger towards herself, the dead person and her friends may arise. Guilt and fear may also accompany her anger. A lot of questions might come up during this period. Could she have done something to prevent the death? Could she have been kinder and more caring during the person’s lifetime? Now that she is left alone, what will become of her?

The turning point of the grieving process and the final stage is the period of Acceptance and Adjustment. During this period, the grieving person starts to feel more energy and less sadness. She starts to participate more willingly in life. New activities, interests, job or even a vacation will initiate the final healing phase of grief. During this period the grieving person starts to take control of herself and starts to make changes in her life, making decisions not involving her lost loved one. Acceptance and adjustment may come a long way. It is not an overnight change. It varies among individuals depending on their capacity to adapt to changes. For some people it may take just a few months, for others, maybe a year or more. Those who have successfully moved on and rebuild their lives come to accept their loss and the realities of life. They have reclaimed their lives for themselves and in the memory of those whom they loved.

Michael Russell

Your Independent guide to Grief and Loss

Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Michael_Russell

Grief Support: The Don’ts

1) Don’t try to make the grieving person feel better. YOU CANNOT. For many grievers it only serves to make them feel guilty or worse. Grievers MUST experience the pain of grief for healing to ultimately occur.

2) Don’t tell the griever to give it time. Time has stopped for the griever. Life proceeds in slow motion. Life is too surreal to be identified with time. Read more

Losing the One You Love

November 17, 2006 by The Grief Blog  
Filed under Uncategorized

I can’t imagine a more difficult or trying period: coping with the death of a loved one. This is especially true when they are relatively young or not showing a sign of a previous illness or disease. Auto accident victims immediately come to mind because of their proliferation. But there are other ways and means to cut short a life. Yet, does it really matter in the end? The result is that friends, relatives, and other associates remain here on earth to deal with the tragedy. I feel somewhat qualified to write about this because it happened to me twice. Read more

Death and Grief: Unacceptable Reasons Given

November 17, 2006 by The Grief Blog  
Filed under Uncategorized

Many reasons for death are given to those who have lost someone close to them. Some of these reasons, while well intentioned, do not provide any comfort. Most often, people suffering through the loss of a loved one or friend are not ready to have legitimate answers given until later. It is completely natural, however, to ask “Why?” This is in response to the sense of a lack of reasoning on “why bad things happen to good people.” To ask is expected; but to get a satisfying answer is not expected. People dealing with grief may be ready at a later date for philosophical explanations, but for the first few weeks following the death is not a good time to give answers; that may come later. Read more

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