Still mad.
Why is it that I have to have a life like this? I was born with it, that's why. I was born with my parents' mistakes and separations from other people, and I live with the consequences of their actions.
Which means that I do not have all the help I need to get through these first few weeks, to put together this memorial service, to get the things I need. My parents have been separated for 40 years and at the time of her death, they were not speaking to each other. My mother's siblings have done nothing for her throughout her very long illness. My husband is here, my two best friends, but no one else. I don't even know any of my cousins.
I can't help but complain. Some months ago when someone I knew had her husband die suddenly I organized a huge network of people in the neighborhood to come to bring her food for months, and to mow her lawn. I wrote the thank you note for her to all the people for what they did.
I have neither heard a word or seen her since the few days before I told her my mom was dying, hence the rather snarky ecard I made up yesterday.
I am no longer so hurt, just pissed. Part of that I know, is the fact that I am adjusting to my mom's death and quite angry about that. I am trying hard not to be resentful. My long-term friends have been very kind.
But still. Grr.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Things not to say/do when someone is grieving
Here are some of the silly things people say and do when confronted with death.
My advice is when someone close to your friend or relative dies, do not:
My advice is when someone close to your friend or relative dies, do not:
- Say "feel better" at the end of a text, as though the person grieving is getting over a summer cold.
- Pretend not hear them when they tell you that someone close to them has died, even if you don't know the person speaking to you very well.
- Say "of course I'm always here for you, because you've done so much for me" and not call, write or contact your friend in any way after the death.
- Tell them to "be strong."
- Say "I'm sorry, I know it hurts, but she lived a long life."
- Say in the case of a person dying of dementia, "So did she starve to death?"
- Avoid the grieving person even when you see them walking nearby.
- Text this message: "Know ur busy 2day. I will keep you in my prayers." For what? Are you sorry? Is this a condolence? Are you praying for me because I'm busy? Regarding the memorial service: "I will try 2come if I can get a sitter." I don't know, did you have to add the last part? And why did you not call or write or say anything else besides this text?
- Ask: "Is anyone bringing you meals?" then never follow through on your promise to take care of said meals.
- Stop checking in, or simply, never even bother to try because you feel someone else is taking care of it.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Death Sucks
"It feels like somebody took my heart and dropped it into a bucket of boiling tears. And at the same time somebody else is hitting my soul in the crotch with frozen sledgehammer. And then a third guy walks in and starts punching me in the grief bone." - Michael Scott, "Grief Counseling," The Office
My mother died June 11, 2012 at 1:30 a.m. This past week as been a weird rush of making cremation arrangements, calling my few relatives and informing them of the death, trying to juggle my outbursts of sadness, visiting the therapist and psychiatrist, mother my almost 11-year-old girl, guide her through her last day of elementary school and her fifth grade promotion, cleaning out my mother's room at the nursing home, comforting the staff, figuring out what the appropriate thing is to do at a memorial service, talking to friends that would listen and worrying about my husband taking on too much.
I'm an only child, with little family connections, and I was principal caregiver for my mom for the past eight years as she succumbed ever so slowly to the terminal illness of vascular dementia.
I had to watch alone, with the aid of some caring nursing home and hospice staff members, as my mom died over a couple of weeks because she could no longer eat or swallow. Honestly I don't think she suffered too much but I got her the morphine she needed to leave as comfortably as possible. She died in her sleep, as far as I can determine, because I wasn't there at the actual moment of death.
I have had support from friends after my mother's death, and of course my husband, but honestly I feel that what I have gotten, with some very kind exceptions, has been given with reluctance. And that has been very hard. When you have a very tiny family, and they are not supportive, you have to count on others.
My child, my husband, my two best friends are always there for me, I know. One other close friend came yesterday and kindly spent the day with me, and one other friend visited who is supportive sporadically. But my father and my aunt and uncle expect me to support them. My in-laws are no where to be found, which is not unusual. My mother-in-law just lost her sister, and she and her husband are both getting ready to go to Alaska. My sister-in-law lives in her own world, and her brother (my husband) and I are only peripherally included as it benefits her needs.
I probably give too much to others, when I should concentrate more on taking care of myself. I suppose I have to learn how to start. I am not very good at it.
I find myself inappropriately angry at the people I know in the neighborhood. One neighbor across the street dropped off a condolence card. The two neighborhood friends I called for support, and talked to last week, have neither called or come by. There has been nothing else from anyone who lives in the close vicinity.
This angers me only because when one of these women's husband died, I organized a massive support group online that delivered meals to her house for months. My husband mowed and cleaned up her yard. I dropped off meals, checked in on her, contributed to a memorial fund for her kids, even wrote the thank you letter on her behalf to all her friends. I have heard nothing from her since June 8, and I am so mad at times about not hearing from her I can't see straight. The other person, who I told in person about my mother's death the day she died, went on vacation and has recently returned. Not a word from her either.
It hurts.
I need to focus on the people who are helping me. I'm trying. I need to stop thinking about the people who I feel are ignoring me. I have a bad habit of seeking validation from people who can't or won't give it to me, and not paying enough attention to what is positive. It is important for me to try to get past the disappointment I feel and acknowledge the good that will come from whatever will happen at my mother's memorial service this Friday.
I'll keep trying.
My mother died June 11, 2012 at 1:30 a.m. This past week as been a weird rush of making cremation arrangements, calling my few relatives and informing them of the death, trying to juggle my outbursts of sadness, visiting the therapist and psychiatrist, mother my almost 11-year-old girl, guide her through her last day of elementary school and her fifth grade promotion, cleaning out my mother's room at the nursing home, comforting the staff, figuring out what the appropriate thing is to do at a memorial service, talking to friends that would listen and worrying about my husband taking on too much.
I'm an only child, with little family connections, and I was principal caregiver for my mom for the past eight years as she succumbed ever so slowly to the terminal illness of vascular dementia.
I had to watch alone, with the aid of some caring nursing home and hospice staff members, as my mom died over a couple of weeks because she could no longer eat or swallow. Honestly I don't think she suffered too much but I got her the morphine she needed to leave as comfortably as possible. She died in her sleep, as far as I can determine, because I wasn't there at the actual moment of death.
I have had support from friends after my mother's death, and of course my husband, but honestly I feel that what I have gotten, with some very kind exceptions, has been given with reluctance. And that has been very hard. When you have a very tiny family, and they are not supportive, you have to count on others.
My child, my husband, my two best friends are always there for me, I know. One other close friend came yesterday and kindly spent the day with me, and one other friend visited who is supportive sporadically. But my father and my aunt and uncle expect me to support them. My in-laws are no where to be found, which is not unusual. My mother-in-law just lost her sister, and she and her husband are both getting ready to go to Alaska. My sister-in-law lives in her own world, and her brother (my husband) and I are only peripherally included as it benefits her needs.
I probably give too much to others, when I should concentrate more on taking care of myself. I suppose I have to learn how to start. I am not very good at it.
I find myself inappropriately angry at the people I know in the neighborhood. One neighbor across the street dropped off a condolence card. The two neighborhood friends I called for support, and talked to last week, have neither called or come by. There has been nothing else from anyone who lives in the close vicinity.
This angers me only because when one of these women's husband died, I organized a massive support group online that delivered meals to her house for months. My husband mowed and cleaned up her yard. I dropped off meals, checked in on her, contributed to a memorial fund for her kids, even wrote the thank you letter on her behalf to all her friends. I have heard nothing from her since June 8, and I am so mad at times about not hearing from her I can't see straight. The other person, who I told in person about my mother's death the day she died, went on vacation and has recently returned. Not a word from her either.
It hurts.
I need to focus on the people who are helping me. I'm trying. I need to stop thinking about the people who I feel are ignoring me. I have a bad habit of seeking validation from people who can't or won't give it to me, and not paying enough attention to what is positive. It is important for me to try to get past the disappointment I feel and acknowledge the good that will come from whatever will happen at my mother's memorial service this Friday.
I'll keep trying.
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