From Stephanie
February 2025
“The problem with death is absence.”
Roger Rosenblatt
I have several clients right now, and I know there are some brand new people attending the SOS group, where their loved one has been dead long enough that what is blatantly clear to them is the “goneness.” In our initial shock and denial which are 2 pieces of the grieving process, the absence of our loved one is not felt as keenly as, say, a year later. We tell ourselves all kind of things like, “They’re just on an extended vacation”, or “They’ll be home when…” In reality, the longer amount of time that ensues between the death date and “today”, the harsher is the feeling of their absence.
After a death, the hole within us is huge. Eventually, as time goes on, if we grieve actively (the opposite of denial and pushing our grief away), the hole fills in until it becomes smaller and more manageable. This isn’t happening in a year or even in two years. We begin to laugh and then feel guilty that we’ve laughed. We begin to move forward in our lives without them because they’re forever frozen in time. For me, it was finally accepting that when the telephone rang, it would NOT be mom. For me, it wasn’t me reaching for the phone to tell her something. The letters she used to write to me didn’t come any more, even though it took me months to stop looking for them.
For many new survivors, Valentine’s Day is a hard day, especially if it’s a spouse who died. Or maybe it’s NOT a hard day if your spouse died but you think it “should” be because of the expectations society puts on us.
After any death, within a few weeks, our initial support moves further away from us. People resume their own routines. What support are we left with? Each one of us has to have some support. The SOS meetings are supportive, counseling is supportive. Who do you call, who is your “person” or, better yet, who are your “people” who you can turn to? We/I/you need “people”. Those who are with us as we traverse the new path before us. Who do you reach out to on especially bad days? Who will listen to your story over and over again. Your need is great; your support system, which may be only 2-3 people, is necessary.
There is nothing that prepares us for a death by suicide. Society has the old stigma in place, for some, and with others, the acceptance of suicide as a means of death is just part of who they are. It’s acceptance we need and want.
I received several emails from a friend of a survivor. The friend had tried for several months to get her friend to SOS. She succeeded in January. The day after the meeting, I received a lovely email from the friend telling me how warm and welcoming the group was. She said the leader was especially “compassionate and knowledgeable”. (Kim, I believe that was you. Sending hugs to you.)
She also said that, initially, her friend didn’t talk (not unusual at all for a newcomer) but that eventually she did. When a brand new person walks into an SOS meeting, it’s acceptance and understanding that they feel. Connections are made, bonds are formed.
What comes from a suicide, are small “gifts” which is what my mentor was told by a monk after her son died. Of course she was angry when she heard those words and said that she didn’t want any gifts. I will say that resilience is one that comes. Resilience- “A ladder for climbing out of deep wells and muddy pools.”
Self-knowledge- knowing who you are and what moves you down to the darkest corners of your soul.
Surrender – the art of moving along with the flow of an uncompromising life.
The above words and definitions come from “A Journal for Bad Days”, by Eveline Helmink. She provides “self-care strategies to get present when things aren’t perfect.” I find it helpful.
As you grapple with the permanence of death, you will also see “signs” that remind you of your loved one. I can still feel my mom around me when I garden. I can look at photo albums and remember wonderful times. I can still return, if I allow myself to, to the moments I learned of her death and the guilt and torment I suffered for years. It isn’t a healthy thing to do.
My husband, Bill, died 3 years ago. The day he died, a deer walked alongside me down my walk from the backyard, through the front yard, to the street. All the time I was talking and crying. The deer eventually walked down the road, up the hill, and crossed the highway. The deer come often – singles or in two’s and three’s – to let me know that Bill is with me. Bill’s brother died on Friday, January 24th. Bill’s sister lives in my home in a separate apartment. She’s 88 and on 24/7 oxygen but quite mobile and articulate. The next day, we both looked out our windows at the same time and saw the deer. Just one. Just my Bill. Signs bring me comfort.
May your month, the shortest of the year, be filled with love for yourself and then love for others. May you give and receive both….
