Healing from loss… involves weaving together the remaining fragments of one’s assumptive world to recreate an existence that has purpose, meaning and some semblance of predictability and order.

Robert Niemeyer
Professor of Psychology & Grief Specialist (2001)

Feeling a sense of safety is a basic need. More to the point: maintaining the illusion of safety is so important that we must continually re-imagine it in order remain sane. The task, however, is getting harder and harder to accomplish in our current upside down world.

Illusion of safety is wearing mighty thin

When 9/11 happened we were incensed that anyone would have the gall to make us feel so vulnerable. Add the “great” recession, mortgage crisis, real estate collapse, unemployment, school and public massacres, home grown terrorist activity, record youth suicide rate, racial tension, cybercrime, and climate disasters, and one could say it is getting harder and harder to reweave the fragments of our world back into a state of predictability and order.

Top it off with the fact that when our financial and manufacturing sectors chose to globalize their operations, the entire world’s political, religious, economic, medical and social problems became ours as well. Therefore, it is not surprising that the edges of our peace of mind are seriously frayed.

If you have slept through the last years of assault on your lifestyle, the Ebola outbreak likely caused you to notice that the world’s healthcare system can’t handle every imaginable medical crisis.

Caregiving is a Lonely Exhausting Act of Love

We know that it takes courage to live and to die. What we don’t know is that it also takes courage to be a primary caregiver.

If you are currently caring for a loved one, you are likely struggling to accept the coming loss and frustrated that you have little influence over what is happening. The only thing you can seem to control is your quality of care – yet your best efforts often don’t seem to be good enough—which concerns you.

Actually you will provide better and more consistent care the sooner you accept your own limits and understand you can’t be a “perfect” caregiver. That said you will be surprised by your emotional and physical fortitude if you accept one critical caveat:

Most adult grief support group attendees have been primary caregivers for their parents or spouses. Generally they are physically and emotionally exhausted—and oddly disoriented because suddenly the 24/7 need for making lists and monitoring medications and meals is over.

I remember one woman in group saying “It’s like I was fired! Like I’ve lost my job! I don’t know what to do with all of the time.”

It is not unusual for caregivers to be more stressed than the person dying

Today we are featuring two excellent posts from the parenting blog, The Longest Shortest Time.

In the August 1 post, Hillary shares her four-year old daughter’s ideas and drawings about death. The post also includes the short video of a child named Anna that has gone viral. The questions, drawings and video are perfect examples of how children under five can become obsessed with questions about life and death – questions adults can’t always answer with certainty.

To get some help Hillary interviewed grief counselor Joseph Primo, author of What Do We Tell the Children? Talking to Kids about Death and Dying. Primo is a worthy guide and wisely urges parents to listen to their child’s ideas, respond honestly and admit when they don’t have the answer.

Might be worth saving the Primo interview for future reference.

I encourage you to read both posts:

Aug 1, 2014 – Do we become houses? + more 4-year old ideas about death

http://longestshortesttime.com/2014/08/01/do-we-become-houses-more-4-year-old-ideas-on-death/

Aug 4, 2014 – A Grief Counselor on Talking to Young Children about Death

http://longestshortesttime.com/2014/08/04/a-grief-counselor-on-talking-to-young-children-about-death/

A woman in one of my groups once commented, “There was a time when I couldn’t imagine feeling alive again, and now I freak out when I realize I haven’t thought of my partner for a couple of days.” This response is not unusual; some people say they prefer the pain of grief over the uneasiness and apprehension that comes from starting over. As frightening as an undefined future can feel, you have two choices: you can (1) sink your stake of grief deeper and live in the past, or (2) pull up the stake and transform it into a rudder that guides you forward.

The first choice allows your grief to define the rest of your life; the second requires you to actively participate in who you are to become. By choosing the second option, you are signing up for what psychologists Tedeschi and Calhoun refer to as post-traumatic growth and Tom Attig calls relearning the world. Both imply that you become a student rather than an authority.

In my experience grief group members and clients often bring up the issue of alcohol without being asked.

• They want it “out there” that they know they shouldn’t be drinking as much as they are.
• They want it “out there” that it’s hard to turn from something that helps them feel better – even if it is only temporary.
• They also want it “out there” so someone will be kind and caring enough to say “try not to overdue it, ok? I care about you.”

What’s Your Grief’s recent blog post on grief and alcohol

I have recommended the blog What’s Your Grief before and I am doing so again. Eleanor and Litsa are mental health care providers who specialize in grief and loss, and they are also good researchers and writers. I have subscribed to their blog for a couple of years and highly recommend it to clients and readers who are grieving. Their recent post on alcohol is a worthwhile read.

http://whatsyourgrief.com/grief-mindfulness-and-alcohol/

Today I was reading the Sunday New York Times and came upon a story about Gary Gotlin, the NY Richmond County Public Administrator and Commissioner for Staten Island—the man responsible for handling the county’s residents’ estates who die without a will and/or without living relatives to claim their body for private burial.

Since 1999 he is also the man who has made sure no stillborn baby in his district is buried in a mass grave in the potter’s field.

The article includes a picture of Gotlin on a day he was burying 10 abandoned stillborn babies picked up from local hospitals. In the picture he is standing near a line of little white caskets with flowers on top – each with a nameplate—because he buries no one without a name, even if he has to make one up. (I have provided the link to the NYT’s story at the end of this post so you can read some good news in the middle of our current global chaos.)