Nobody Taught Me How To Grieve

You'll never be prepared. My grandfather died at 82 of lung cancer, and when my mom called to tell me, I called my boyfriend (now husband), crawled into bed, and didn't come out til the next day. And then we drove to Miami to be around my family immediately.

There is always laughing and crying. It's been two years, and I still hurt just as much. Our wedding was an emotional time because he wasn't there. Something that helps me, though, is that when he passed he was in pain, and the pain turned him into someone I didn't know, physically and mentally. That person was not that "Papa" that I remember, and I was (am) glad that he's not in pain anymore.

thanks for sharing this. It is true, no one really knows how to grieve or mourn. I was at a close friend's sister's funeral, and several of us all said "there should be a book, that tells you exactly what to do, where to put the flowers in the house after coming home from the funeral, whether or not we should leave the guestbook out at the house for people attending the wake and not the funeral to sign...." there were so many questions....

one thing i have noticed is that younger people are getting more visceral in their grieving. When we buried my grandmother, no one stayed to see the dirt cover over her. At the funeral I mentioned above, about a hundred of the young woman's friends stood and watched the workers bury the casket. I think that as digital as we are, when something tragic and permanent happens, we need to see it, get our hands into it, and make it real.It's what anchors us back.

Samantha,

Props for writing this post. A good friend of mine died last year. I tried to write about it a ton of times, but it was just too difficult to wrap my mind around.

One thing I do know is that I would never attempt to teach someone how to grieve. Everyone grieves in their own way. And depending on who we lose, the process alters itself.

I know you didn't write this post for sympathy, but it's hard to be a part of a community together and not offer my condolences. We're all sorry to hear about your loss.

-RP

I think that at least acknowleding the impact of death, and not acting like it is something you "sweep under the rug" would be nice.

My grandmother died last month. I was devistated, but I still had to get up in the morning and go to work for five days straight, and then work on the day before the funeral from my mother's home. I was in shock, so I am sure I messed up a lot. I felt like I was walking through water. And it seemed like no one got it. Even at the funeral. I wanted to scream at some of the idiots who walked up to me and made dumb comments about my voice after I read the euology. I was so angry. I can only imagine how hard it would have been to live through days of this. I didn't want to talk about my job, or graduation (it was like a year ago!). My grandmother was an amazing woman, and the most supportive adult in my life a lot of times. I wanted to talk about her; how she was my only babysitter and the smartest woman I have ever known. I was so frustrated by the response; I didn't understand how people could come to the dinner after the funeral and laugh while the family set there so somber (even my 17 year old brother was struggling to hold back the tears).

I don't think people know what to do with grief because they haven't been taught. I just wonder when they should learn. Grief isn't like sex, but it does happen to everyone (sex does, for the most part...). I just know how much better it would have been if people acknowledged the dead, or let the grieving family just grieve in peace.

Thank you to everyone for sharing and expressing your condolences.

@Susan – I’m really sorry to hear about your Dad. I think you’re right that there isn’t a one-size-fits-all approach to grief. Everyone grieves differently, which is probably why nobody taught me how to do it. I wrote this post about a week ago after I learned that my other grandfather was in the hospital, battling an infection. At the time, I was certain he would recover, but as his condition worsens, I find myself thinking about what may happen, and how I will cope. The thing is, the way that I grieved for my Grandpa is entirely different from the way I imagine myself grieving for my Papa. In writing this post, I think I answered my own question. Why didn’t anyone teach me how to grieve? Because, it’s something you’ve got to learn on your own, and it's a different process each time.

@Lindsay – I’m sorry to hear about your loss. I can relate to what you said about pain turning people into strangers. When my Grandpa died, it was unexpected, but I think we were all relieved that we didn’t have to watch him deteriorate. It’s so difficult to watch a loved one suffer, and turn into someone that you no longer recognize. You and I are lucky because our grandfathers lived long lives, and we were able to build lasting relationships with them. I never got to hear about my parents’ grandparents because they passed away when my parents were very young. Someday, when I have children of my own, I look forward to telling them all about their great grandfather and all of the memories we shared.

@KateNonymous – Thank you for your condolences. You’re right that everyone expresses grief differently. Although hiding in my room was the best thing for me, sometimes people find comfort in being surrounded by friends and family. It can be a good distraction, which is part of the reason why people sit Shiva. This way, nobody has to grieve alone.

@Anna Michelle – You bring up an interesting point about younger people becoming more visceral in their grieving. In Judaism, it is customary for friends and family members to place a few shovels full of dirt over the casket. This is often difficult for people to watch, let alone participate in, but when we buried my grandfather, I felt that I had to do it. It was horrible, and it was real, but it gave me some of the closure that I needed. Thank you for sharing.

@Ryan Paugh – Thanks for your condolences. I am so sorry to hear about your friend. And you’re right about grief altering depending on the person you lose. How you grieve for someone changes depending on what they meant to you, on what kind of role they had in your life. I’ve been spending a lot of time talking to friends and family back home, as I’ve learned that my other grandfather is very ill. I told one friend that I felt horrible for not crying when I learned that my ailing grandfather probably wouldn’t recover. When I heard that my other grandfather (the one from this post) was going to die, I cried immediately. I still cry.

“Does this make me a bad person?” I asked my friend.
“No, Sam. We grieve differently for different people. Your relationship with your Grandpa was so different than your relationship with your Papa. Just because you’re not crying doesn’t mean you don’t care.”

The point is, there is no standard way to grieve, and I’m sure that you found that to be true when your friend passed away, and that you grieved in a way that was unique to you and the relationship that you and your friend shared.

@Ryan Healy – I wish that as a child, I had read a book like that in school. You’re lucky that you had a class where death was discussed, because it is so often a neglected topic. Thanks for sharing.

@Beth Harris – It sounds like you and your grandmother had a very close relationship, so I can imagine how hard it was to lose her. I was very close with my grandfather, and I’ve learned that the closer you are with somebody, the more it hurts when they leave you. In the weeks after my grandfather died, I spent a lot of time crying and asking my parents why it had to hurt so much. My mother reminded me that I got to spend 22 years with my grandfather, and that we shared so many wonderful memories. Did I want to give that up, so that I could feel less pain? Would I rather have had a grandfather who was less involved in my life, so that grieving would be easier? Absolutely not.

@Carla – I agree. We avoid talking about death because it is unknown. It is so much easier to discuss the things we can control and the things that we are capable of understanding. Thank you for sharing, and for your continued support.