Every time the holiday season approaches, nostalgia sets in. For myself, these feelings are often coupled with an overlying tinge of sorrow. Why? Because this time of year reminds me of those who are no longer here to celebrate with me. I’m reminded of loss as I look around and see everyone else gathering with their families. I’m reminded that I’m still grieving the passing of my parents…
As a ‘surprise’ baby born to a 40-year-old couple, I always had this idea in the back of my mind that I would lose my parents at a much earlier age than my peers. Despite this unnerving awareness, I could never have imagined that I’d lose my Mom to cancer at the age of 22. Although her health had been declining for several years (which doctors attributed to diabetes), her condition made a steep plunge in 2012 after an instance where she felt loopy and fainted in the kitchen of our house. From that moment onward, doctors worked diligently to determine what was wrong with her. Ultimately, it was stage IV cancer. The news was devastating. At the time, the thought of losing her made me feel entirely bare. Initially the doctors said she had a few months to live but when biopsy conclusions came back they narrowed their estimate down to only a month. I loathed the idea that they could calculate such a thing and quickly came to see the medical personnel at the hospital as these grim reaper entities who distributed death sentences amongst the patients.
Shortly after diagnosis, my Mom opted for hospice care and returned to the comfort of her home where she passed 4 days later. This rapid experience with loss came at a time when I felt that I had so much more to prove and share with her. This, along with many words left unsaid, left me haunted with feelings of regret. To deal with this regret, I used some awful coping mechanisms. Rather than seek help to get through the grieving process, I turned to self-sabotaging behaviors – numbing myself from the overwhelming sense of loss. I began partying more, drinking more, and drugging more. I’d find myself stuck in existential despair, asking myself why my Mom was taken from me and the broad meaning of life. I needed support more than ever, but when I’d ask my spouse for comfort, he had difficulty coming through. So, I continued spiraling. When I finally came to my senses I had destroyed my self-worth. I had been dazed in the denial and anger stages of grief for so long that I truly lost myself. When I look back on this time, I am filled with even more shame for dragging people into my hell, but then I gently remind myself that I am only human.
After 5 years and many experiences which shaped me into a healthier person, I was dealt another loss. This time it was my Father. His passing was even more unexpected. The day that he passed I had been out on a morning hike in Torrey Pines. Toward the end of the hike I received a phone call from my eldest brother Chad who asked if I had spoken to our brother Jeremy. I said that I hadn’t and asked what was going on. He told me that he had found our Dad on the ground in the driveway and that he was unresponsive to resuscitation attempts. In that moment, I felt my heart sink to the bottom of my stomach. As someone who has had CPR training I knew exactly what that meant – he wasn’t coming back. After getting off the phone with Chad I drove straight over to my Father’s house. When pulling onto his street I saw an emergency vehicle leave without it’s lights or sirens on. When I reached the driveway to the house, I could see that there was a tarp strewn over someone outside. This confirmed the worst. He was gone. Although this loss was even more sudden than my Mom’s, I dealt with his passing in a very different way. I was more realistic the second time around. With more awareness of just how fleeting life is, I could accept what had happened without turning outward and losing myself. It also helped that I had a great support system in place; I attended regular sessions with a therapist and had friends that were constantly checking in with me. Despite the awful circumstances, I felt proud of the strides I’d made and how resilient I had become.
In sharing these two experiences I hope to show that grieving isn’t a One Size Fits All process. Nor does it look the same every time it is experienced by the same person. As ever-evolving beings with complex innerworkings, context is always going to play an integral role in how we respond to certain life events. Although my first experience was trying, it provided me with many lessons that I used during my second experience. If you’ve lost a loved one, and can relate to my experiences, I just want to say that I am proud of you for wherever you’re at in your grieving process. I can’t say that the feeling of loss ever truly dissipates, because there are always constant reminders – holidays, birthdays, a scent, a song… But if you can – pause, sit with the emotion, and try to extract the positive from the memory. Gratitude for what you did get to share with that person.
Good grief.
Written by Lindsey Rohr
