In March of 2020 the avalanche of grief started for me and my family, as it did for many people during this time. While COVID-19 played a negative part as the backdrop of our grief, none of the deaths in our family were caused by this virus.
In the Western culture the norm is to shy away from grieving and grievers, as if the pain or vulnerability might be contagious. Our biological nature is to avoid and remove ourselves from pain. We do not touch the hot stove because we do not want to get burned.
However, when you are thrown into the deep end of the pool of grief and sink to the bottom, it is not as easy as swimming to the side and climbing out. Prevention or avoidance is not an option with death, loss, and mourning.
I work with people suffering from grief to help them process their feelings and lessen or soften the pain they are experiencing. I am working with my grief to lessen my pain and I want to “lesson my pain”. My desire is to teach people tools that helped me with my grief and sorrow to help them traverse from the bottom of the pool to the steps in the shallow end.
To bear witness to someone else’s pain validates them and provides comfort. To have experienced a similar pain and have survived and learned to live despite it, gives other people hope. Educating myself about grief symptoms helped me. I just did not know how terrible grief felt until I was immersed in it. When I was pregnant, I read “What To Expect When You Are Expecting” and found it very helpful. You cannot explain what pregnancy feels like if you have not been pregnant, you can’t adequately explain the pain of grief if you haven’t experienced it. Each pregnancy is different as each person’s experience with grief is different. We will not have the same symptoms, we will not have the same experience, but we will have emotional pain and we can share that.
I share this story about my grief with others to provide hope.
“I think I am doing it wrong.” I said to my friend Janie. Why did I think I was grieving wrong? Because my pain was still so severe and I was getting worse and not better. This conversation was in early May of 2021 and I had been “feeling my feelings” all along and crying a lot since March of 2020 when my grief journey started. Previously I felt I was doing okay, because the pain was lessening and I was functioning pretty well, not at 100 percent but I was taking baby steps forward. Then on April 27, 2021 my dog Jackson died unexpectedly. The pain felt unbearable. I felt that this loss was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I had already been through so much sorrow from the loss of three family members in the past year.
She explained that there is no wrong way to grieve and that I was now experiencing compound grief which is described as a series of losses that occur over a relatively brief period of time. Janie, lost her beloved husband of fifty years to cancer. She was sharing with me grief symptoms and grief terminology that she had learned about in the grief classes she attended weekly.
I have learned that grief does not travel a linear path. Some days will feel unbearable and some days will be not as bad.
My breaking point came when Jackson, the younger of my two dogs, died on April 27th 2021, just 20 days after my brother-in-law Ken died.
I’d like to back up to the beginning of the grief I was already processing before April of 2021.
My mother-in-law Phyllis, passed away on March 10th, 2020 and my marriage that had been unraveling for years fell apart. The nation shut down for COVID days after her death and I am grateful I was able to be in the hospital room with her and her friends and family when she passed. All deaths are traumatic but getting to say good-bye to your loved one is a gift.
COVID surrounded the world with fear which amplified the pain I was experiencing. The world lost the comfort of our normal day to day routines as everything shut down abruptly.
In May of 2020, my brother-in-law the patriarch of our family and my sister’s husband since 1988 was diagnosed with cancer. The cancer was too far advanced and affected too many of his organs for any treatment to be offered. After months trying to figure out what was happening medically, he entered into in-home hospice treatment at the age of 59. I had known this man since I was 16 years old. Ken was always protective of me and was like a big brother to me.
My Uncle Jon passed away unexpectedly from a stroke in June of 2020. He was found unresponsive in his room and rushed to the ER. He coded on the way and was placed on a respirator. He did not regain consciousness and none of us were able to say good-bye. We had not been able to see him much in the past month because his facility was on lock down and residents were confined to their rooms. My mother handled this crisis all on her own because of COVID safety restrictions. The hospital only allowed 1 person in the room. She was with him when they removed the ventilator. What a scary and traumatic thing to witness alone. When Phyllis died, her hospital room was filled with family and close friends. She had been able to say good-bye to all of us.
In February of 2021, my husband moved out to a rental home as we physically separated after 22 years of marriage. Our two dogs Sally and Jackson stayed with me and our cat went with him. Divorce is another life occurrence that you cannot describe the distress to someone who has not experienced it. I was devastated even though I knew this was the right thing for us to do.
In April of 2021, Ken my brother-in-law passed away. I write about him in this blog if you would like to read it. https://www.wavesoflove.net/post/kenneth-w-olson-1960-2021 He was only 60 years old and had been looking forward to retiring before his cancer diagnosis.
At this time, I was caregiving my older dog Sally. She was at least 17 years old and required a lot of care and assistance. I knew Sally was close to the end of her life and I would have to say goodbye when her back legs could no longer support her. Jackson was 13 years old and a large dog-but I still never imagined that he would die first. Jackson was the heart beat at my feet and had always been my special dog. He didn’t come down for breakfast and when I went back upstairs, he was in distress on the floor in my bedroom and was unable to get up. I had to wake up my daughter and call my husband to come over. Jackson weighed over 80 pounds and I could not get him into the car by myself. The three of us carried him down the steps to the car in a blanket. We knew this was his time and they both said good-bye. In hind site, he had been slowing down, but all of my care-giving focus had been on Sally. He had been to the vet and checked out fine at the last check-up, and I was unaware that anything was seriously wrong. I had started walking each dog separately because they both walked a different kind of slow. It turns out he had lymphoma which can come up very quickly. I called my sister and she came to be with me at the emergency vet office as he was put to sleep. This unexpected loss of my fur baby was just too much for me to handle. I did not realize how much comfort he was giving me. He was the reason I felt safe at night as I was learning to living alone. I did not know the pain could get so much worse. Each day had felt so bad prior to this.
Then on June 9th, I had to bring Sally in to be put to sleep. This was not unexpected-but what was unexpected is that her distress call came on the morning of my daughter’s high school graduation. Why, God? Why not yesterday or tomorrow? Why would this beloved dog who we have had in our lives for 14 years, since my daughter was 4 years old, fall very ill today of all days? We were experiencing an unprecedented amount of stress due to COVID. I weighed my options-could Sally wait to go to the vet until after graduation? Graduation was at noon and it was 9 am? I realized that no-it really is going to have to be done now before graduation. I woke my daughter up so she could say good bye. I called my husband and he was too far away from our home to come to say good-bye. He was working a ½ day and was then going to go to the graduation ceremony. I again called my sister for help. This is a big ask for someone who lost her husband of 33 years less than 2 months ago.
She got the back of her van ready and came over. This time, I think just Sharon and I carried Sally in a blanket and put her in the van. I rode in the back of the van next to Sally to the vet’s office. I am omitting the physical symptoms that accompanied my dog’s distress. It is too painful to document, but these symptoms do add to the trauma and pain involved in losing your pet. We took Sally to her regular veterinarian instead of the emergency vet. I have known Dr. Gilyard for over twenty years and he saved Sally’s life the first year we rescued her. She almost died from the heart worm treatment she needed. This gave me a bit of comfort and I appreciate his kind, compassionate nature.
It was 11:11 when we drove out of the veterinarian’s parking lot. We had to be at the graduation at noon. It was surreal getting ready in 5 minutes to drive to Sharon’s house to pick up her son and our mom. It was a very hot sunny day. As we sat in the stands that day in 90-degree temperatures I felt close to a panic attack. I was struggling to breathe and felt like running away. I felt like I was going to pass out and tumble down the stadium’s large concrete steps. But I got through it. A beautiful heart-shaped cloud floated overhead. I was able to snap a picture and have attached it to his blog. I am sure it was a good-bye kiss from our sweet Sally.
All of these deaths, stressors, and losses multiplied and intensified my pain. I was experiencing a laundry list of physical, and emotional symptoms from the trauma of grief.
After speaking to Janie, I wanted to reach out for help with my compound grief but because I had not lost a child or spouse to death my initial inquiries to find support groups in my grieving process came up empty. The local hospice had support groups but I did not fit the criteria for any of the many groups. Thankfully, I was able to attend the California hospice online grief support group that Janie was attending. I started reading books about grief and talking to other people who were grieving and slowly learned tools to manage the day-to-day emotional pain. I found relief in helping others in processing their grief as I processed mine.
It is now September of 2023 and I am sharing this story of my grief journey to give hope to others who are in pain and feel they are grieving incorrectly. There is no wrong way to grieve. It will take time and feeling your feelings will be painful. I found spending time with my horse, journaling, self-care activities, grief support groups, prayer and meditation helped ease the pain. I am still grieving, but with time the grief has softened. There are more sunny days than cloudy days.
If you need help processing your grief, please reach out for help. I have a long list of free resources that I am happy to share. You are not alone.
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