Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Poem about grief, healing

Wait, for now.
Distrust everything if you have to.
But trust the hours. Haven't they
carried you everywhere, up to now?
Personal events will become interesting again.
Hair will become interesting.
Pain will become interesting.
Buds that open out of season will become interesting.
Second-hand gloves will become lovely again;
their memories are what give them
the need for other hands.
--Galway Kinnell's poem, "Wait"

A friend of mine mentioned the book, "The Art of Losing; Poems of Grief and Healing," edited by Kevin Young. So I've got it on loan from the library, and I'm sifting through it for poems that speak to me. I'll share some of my favorites, from time to time.

Friday, March 12, 2010

Putting a name on the feelings of loss before death

A therapist / friend put a name on what I've been going through for almost two years, since it became clear that something was wrong with my Dad. She called it "anticipatory grief."

It's a feeling of loss before a death occurs.

Harriet Hodgson explains for the American Hospice Foundation how anticipatory grief "has been described as a 'normal process,' but life is far from normal if you're going through it. ... You may have bouts of crying, for example, a symptom that upsets you and those around you. You may hold back your tears because you have to be strong for your loved one. All through the day you have a choked feeling in your throat. Holding back tears takes lots of energy and, before long, you're exhausted."

Symptoms include: denial, mood swings, forgetfulness, disorganized and confused behavior, anger, depression, feeling disconnected and alone, anxiety and dread, weight loss or gain, sleep problems, nervous behavior and general fatigue.

Hodgson cites author Edward Myers' description of a slow decline as being like that of a glacier "massive and unstoppable, grinding you down," (as compared with a sudden death hitting more like an explosion.)

Beth Erickson writes on the Strength for Caring caregiver Web site about the drawback to witnessing a loved one's slow demise. "As the loved one’s condition worsens, you may grieve with each downturn. You may experience feeling a sense of helplessness as your loved one fights for life. You may feel as if you are living with a pit in your stomach that won’t go away as you await death’s arrival."

I guess it's like anything else. There's value in learning what we can about the glacier, even if it is unstoppable. Knowing why we're ground down, knowing why we feel that pit in our stomachs can help us cope. Just knowing that what we're going through has a name -- anticipatory grieving -- reminds us we're not alone.