I'm sorry for your loss, AND...
January 14, 2020 12:17 PM Subscribe
My niece is in her early 20s and just lost her husband after a long cancer battle. They were barely married when the problems started, and the bulk of the marriage has gone to fighting this battle together. I feel so bad for her and want to do something.
My niece is the kindest, most giving person and I am all torn up that her life has been saturated with tragedy for the last several months. Same family member I asked about sending gifts for previously. I live several hours away and am in transition myself so I cannot easily show up physically, but I want to do something. I also know she has a large social network, and has lots of emotional support available to her. That is why part of what I want to offer may be a bit strange.
Part of what I want to do is let her know that it is okay if she feels relief that his suffering and all the caregiving activities are over. I imagine this is the least socially acceptable reaponse to have at the end of a loved one's losing battle to cancer, and so it would be taboo for her to acknowledge it, but I also do not want her to feel guilty about it because it would be very human for that to be part of her emotional landscape. I want to let her know that it is ok to grieve but it is also ok if her grief has some relief mixed into it, because she had so much on her plate for so long.
Is this a bad thing to say? Should I give it time before I say it? How much time? Suggested ways to phrase my message? She has been his caregiver for a long time, as well as juggling her job and trying to maintain an upward trajectory there. I am sure she is burned out. I want to communicate in a way that honors both of them.
I also wonder what do people do these days besides meal trains and flowers in these circumstances. They are Protestants.
My niece is the kindest, most giving person and I am all torn up that her life has been saturated with tragedy for the last several months. Same family member I asked about sending gifts for previously. I live several hours away and am in transition myself so I cannot easily show up physically, but I want to do something. I also know she has a large social network, and has lots of emotional support available to her. That is why part of what I want to offer may be a bit strange.
Part of what I want to do is let her know that it is okay if she feels relief that his suffering and all the caregiving activities are over. I imagine this is the least socially acceptable reaponse to have at the end of a loved one's losing battle to cancer, and so it would be taboo for her to acknowledge it, but I also do not want her to feel guilty about it because it would be very human for that to be part of her emotional landscape. I want to let her know that it is ok to grieve but it is also ok if her grief has some relief mixed into it, because she had so much on her plate for so long.
Is this a bad thing to say? Should I give it time before I say it? How much time? Suggested ways to phrase my message? She has been his caregiver for a long time, as well as juggling her job and trying to maintain an upward trajectory there. I am sure she is burned out. I want to communicate in a way that honors both of them.
I also wonder what do people do these days besides meal trains and flowers in these circumstances. They are Protestants.
According to the NYS Grief Counseling Resource Guide (pdf)
posted by katra at 12:28 PM on January 14, 2020 [33 favorites]
Dear Niece,
I am so sorry for your loss and have been thinking of you and all the emotions and intensity you must have been experiencing during this whole experience. I remember when I lost (Person) it was a different situation but what stood out to me was that I felt such a swirl of complex and sometimes conflicting and confusing emotions that I found very overwhelming and hard to talk about, and I feel real empathy if you are experiencing this as well. You have dealt with this situation with incredible strength, and I hope you can feel a moment of well-deserved pride for that - AND that you will give yourself grace if at times you find yourself reacting in “imperfect” ways too, because grief is complex. I love you very much and want you to know that you can call me any time. I am solidly in your corner and thinking of you with such affection. We love you and we are here for you.
posted by nouvelle-personne at 12:33 PM on January 14, 2020 [74 favorites]
I am so sorry for your loss and have been thinking of you and all the emotions and intensity you must have been experiencing during this whole experience. I remember when I lost (Person) it was a different situation but what stood out to me was that I felt such a swirl of complex and sometimes conflicting and confusing emotions that I found very overwhelming and hard to talk about, and I feel real empathy if you are experiencing this as well. You have dealt with this situation with incredible strength, and I hope you can feel a moment of well-deserved pride for that - AND that you will give yourself grace if at times you find yourself reacting in “imperfect” ways too, because grief is complex. I love you very much and want you to know that you can call me any time. I am solidly in your corner and thinking of you with such affection. We love you and we are here for you.
posted by nouvelle-personne at 12:33 PM on January 14, 2020 [74 favorites]
I think this is a thing you let her take the lead on. No doubt she will feel a burden lifted as far as caretaking goes, but her grief may still overshadow any relief she feels. Call her often, not just once. At some point she may express her relief and you can back her up then. Some families feel it right away, some awhile after. It may not come across with the kindness intended this early on.
Lots of people here donate to churches or schools or libraries or pet rescues in honor of the deceased if there is a particular area of interest for them.
posted by domino at 12:35 PM on January 14, 2020 [5 favorites]
Lots of people here donate to churches or schools or libraries or pet rescues in honor of the deceased if there is a particular area of interest for them.
posted by domino at 12:35 PM on January 14, 2020 [5 favorites]
A dear friend of mine lost his wife suddenly when they were both pretty young. A lot of people wanted to tell him how to grieve. He got gifts of lots of books and suggestions. Their grieving, as siblings and friends and neighbors and co-workers, was of course going to look a lot different than his. They had a hard time giving him space to grieve in the way he thought best. There was a lot of judgment of how he should grieve.
The most helpful folks were those who were present and kind, who talked if he wanted to talk, but who didn't force him to talk about if he didn't want to, and who continued to engage with him in casual ways, and who didn't disappear a few weeks later. You said she has a strong network. I would ask them what she needs. There's a reason meal trains are popular. If that's what she wants, go with that. Send a lovely letter, but unless you are very close, you probably don't know what she's feeling and needs to hear.
posted by bluedaisy at 12:44 PM on January 14, 2020 [5 favorites]
The most helpful folks were those who were present and kind, who talked if he wanted to talk, but who didn't force him to talk about if he didn't want to, and who continued to engage with him in casual ways, and who didn't disappear a few weeks later. You said she has a strong network. I would ask them what she needs. There's a reason meal trains are popular. If that's what she wants, go with that. Send a lovely letter, but unless you are very close, you probably don't know what she's feeling and needs to hear.
posted by bluedaisy at 12:44 PM on January 14, 2020 [5 favorites]
YMMV, but from similar circumstances I've encountered it's best not to mention that the caretaker's burden is done and they can now take a well-needed rest. Granted, in my case both were spouses who'd been long married (not a 20-something newlywed), and they both had spent the majority of their time taking care of their spouse during a prolonged illness. And even though in one case such care meant daily changning the spouse's diaper and regularly bathing them, I'm fairly sure that both of those folks would say they'd gratefully continue to care for their spouses if need be and they were able to share some more time with them.
I guess what I'm saying is that to my mind it seems totally inappropriate to "comfort" the bereaved by saying "Well, at least you can get some rest now and not have to get up every two hours to change is IV bag." Perhaps it would be better to say "I know that [Deceased] appreciated everything you did for him, and truly felt your love. I think that your unselfish care was a comfort to him." (Or something along those lines.)
As far as what you can physically do to help other than bring food, she probably wouldn't mind assistance in writing "thank you" cards to all the folks who sent floral tributes or other gifts. After a prolonged illness, the surviving spouse is inundated with all sorts of tasks, from filling out Social Security forms to making funeral arrangements to attending to insurance paperwork, etc, so any type of organizational help you can provide would most likely be welcomed.
posted by Oriole Adams at 12:44 PM on January 14, 2020 [12 favorites]
I guess what I'm saying is that to my mind it seems totally inappropriate to "comfort" the bereaved by saying "Well, at least you can get some rest now and not have to get up every two hours to change is IV bag." Perhaps it would be better to say "I know that [Deceased] appreciated everything you did for him, and truly felt your love. I think that your unselfish care was a comfort to him." (Or something along those lines.)
As far as what you can physically do to help other than bring food, she probably wouldn't mind assistance in writing "thank you" cards to all the folks who sent floral tributes or other gifts. After a prolonged illness, the surviving spouse is inundated with all sorts of tasks, from filling out Social Security forms to making funeral arrangements to attending to insurance paperwork, etc, so any type of organizational help you can provide would most likely be welcomed.
posted by Oriole Adams at 12:44 PM on January 14, 2020 [12 favorites]
I recently lost my son and I would be (at best) devastated if someone said something like this to me. It’s already hard enough to navigate in a society that doesn’t handle grief well and knows fuck all about how to deal with a deeply grieving person. Don’t pile on by tell her how to grieve or implying you’re giving her permission to feel a certain way.
I say this in all kindness because I know you mean well but, please do not do this.
posted by _Mona_ at 1:03 PM on January 14, 2020 [37 favorites]
I say this in all kindness because I know you mean well but, please do not do this.
posted by _Mona_ at 1:03 PM on January 14, 2020 [37 favorites]
I think unless you have really bonded with her over the experience of caregiving and losing a spouse (and you are sharing your own experience of feeling that way vs prescribing what she should do), and/or this is a topic she's alluded to, it would be a bad idea to mention this.
posted by needs more cowbell at 1:06 PM on January 14, 2020 [5 favorites]
posted by needs more cowbell at 1:06 PM on January 14, 2020 [5 favorites]
You say that you're not able to go to her, but could you invite her to come visit you? You could say that if she at any point would like a change of scenery she's welcome to crash on your couch and do exactly as much or as little as she feels like doing, be it going out and doing stuff, talking, or just watching tv under a blanket. A little escape where nothing is expected of her could help give her the space to process whatever she's feeling right now.
posted by 5_13_23_42_69_666 at 1:22 PM on January 14, 2020 [3 favorites]
posted by 5_13_23_42_69_666 at 1:22 PM on January 14, 2020 [3 favorites]
When my husband died, my friends sent me a couple of care packages. They were full of stickers and cat toys and small fun things that I would like. Not things about him -- because thinking about him was sad -- but instead, things that were about me so I could have a welcome distraction.
That was very much appreciated. And because these were things they mailed me, I could deal with them on my own time and not open the box yet if today was not a good day for it.
It's nice to have opportunities to think of yourself as Cool Person With Interests And Hobbies instead of just Traumatized Widow.
posted by katieinshoes at 1:34 PM on January 14, 2020 [14 favorites]
That was very much appreciated. And because these were things they mailed me, I could deal with them on my own time and not open the box yet if today was not a good day for it.
It's nice to have opportunities to think of yourself as Cool Person With Interests And Hobbies instead of just Traumatized Widow.
posted by katieinshoes at 1:34 PM on January 14, 2020 [14 favorites]
I'm in a similar situation to your niece, and I appreciate what you're trying to say, but I would not want to hear something like this from any of my (beloved!) aunts, or probably even from my close friends. (Partly I just hate people assuming how I feel and, usually, projecting their own feelings onto me!)
I think the big problem with feeling relief isn't about social acceptability, it's that the feeling itself is wildly dissonant and distressing - way too personal of a feeling to even consider discussing with people outside of your absolute inner circle. Even if this is a message your niece needs to hear, it doesn't seem like you are the ideal person to convey it, unless you're much closer than it seems like based on this post.
posted by mskyle at 1:46 PM on January 14, 2020 [11 favorites]
I think the big problem with feeling relief isn't about social acceptability, it's that the feeling itself is wildly dissonant and distressing - way too personal of a feeling to even consider discussing with people outside of your absolute inner circle. Even if this is a message your niece needs to hear, it doesn't seem like you are the ideal person to convey it, unless you're much closer than it seems like based on this post.
posted by mskyle at 1:46 PM on January 14, 2020 [11 favorites]
I would absolutely not say that to someone who just lost a loved one, especially a very young person. My father had Alzheimers and died at age 84; a very old friend of my mother's sent a condolence card saying, "You must feel so relieved that you don't have to be faced with John's illness anymore," or words to that effect. It was, shall we say, not well received. Even if it's true (which, frankly, it was), it was absolutely not this woman's business to point it out, or give my mother permission to feel it, when the loss was still raw. I understand that you're a relative, not a friend, but my mother still talks about this incident with anger and disbelief five years later.
posted by holborne at 1:47 PM on January 14, 2020 [10 favorites]
posted by holborne at 1:47 PM on January 14, 2020 [10 favorites]
Listen. Listen to how she feels and let her know it's okay. Keep listening.
People usually get a lot of support and sympathy immediately. Put it in your calendar to call her in a month, monthly or so after that.
I wouldn't say It's okay if you feel relief because that presumes her feeling. Instead, Do you ever feel relieved? gives her the option to say.
Some people need and want distraction, some want to talk about their person, my Mom told the story of my Dad's sudden death repeatedly, compulsively, for quite a while. It's okay to say I want to be here for you. How can I help?
Help her write thank you notes for the food, flowers, etc.
posted by theora55 at 1:54 PM on January 14, 2020 [1 favorite]
People usually get a lot of support and sympathy immediately. Put it in your calendar to call her in a month, monthly or so after that.
I wouldn't say It's okay if you feel relief because that presumes her feeling. Instead, Do you ever feel relieved? gives her the option to say.
Some people need and want distraction, some want to talk about their person, my Mom told the story of my Dad's sudden death repeatedly, compulsively, for quite a while. It's okay to say I want to be here for you. How can I help?
Help her write thank you notes for the food, flowers, etc.
posted by theora55 at 1:54 PM on January 14, 2020 [1 favorite]
I don’t think you should say this. Instead, think about what you are trying to broadly convey to her: I want my niece to feel comforted and like her reactions are ok, I want my niece to know I love her no matter what, I want my niece to be gentle to herself, I want my niece to know I’ll be thinking of her as she goes through the wilds of grief and experiences all kinds of unexpected things, so she doesn’t feel alone or different. There are lots of other ways to express these things, from sending her a cozy blanket to calling once in a while to give her an opening to talk to you. If you know someone who lost a spouse at a similar age or under similar circumstances, you could wait a few months and then offer to connect them.
I find that, with grief, unless a person has been through the exact same loss, specific sentiments or advice does not go over well—it assumes too much. Keep things general and wait for her to get specific with you if she’s comfortable.
posted by sallybrown at 2:16 PM on January 14, 2020 [3 favorites]
I find that, with grief, unless a person has been through the exact same loss, specific sentiments or advice does not go over well—it assumes too much. Keep things general and wait for her to get specific with you if she’s comfortable.
posted by sallybrown at 2:16 PM on January 14, 2020 [3 favorites]
One of the kindest things someone said to me after a big loss was to mention how wonderful that person was (with specific details about their positive qualities), and that they wished they could have spent more time with them. That was it. Not asking me to do or feel anything, but what they did say, made my grief feel seen. It was absolutely the best and most meaningful thing I could have heard. If you want to do anything more, then send them some kind of indulgent gift that you know for sure they will like, with a note that says "thinking of you". Like, that's it. Clean, honest and no strings attached.
posted by nanook at 2:17 PM on January 14, 2020 [11 favorites]
posted by nanook at 2:17 PM on January 14, 2020 [11 favorites]
Just jumping in to nth the idea that referring to a sense of relief does not feel at all appropriate. It sounds like you're imagining she might feel that, but she might not feel it at all. So any such reference strikes me as unwelcome. If she were to confide in you that she's feeling that way, then of course reassuring her would be fine. But it should come from her.
posted by swheatie at 2:50 PM on January 14, 2020 [5 favorites]
posted by swheatie at 2:50 PM on January 14, 2020 [5 favorites]
I think we've covered that you shouldn't refer to any specific emotions you imagine she might be feeling, and that you should maybe up your being-in-touch long term, even in a low-key way - postcards, short letters, cards about what you're up to, not necessarily referring to grief the whole time, but just letting her feel her village around her.
I also think it's important for us in these situations to sit with what is going to be genuinely helpful for the person in question vs what is about us wanting so hard to feel that we have the power to relieve their pain. The latter is, whether we like it or not, about us more than them. This might be the saddest thing to happen to you (even if by proxy) this year, your niece is number one in your awareness, and you're thinking of her every day. You feel very strongly the urge to help, which is wonderful. You even think you might have a unique insight that means you'd be able to help her in a way others can't. But if she has a close circle of friends and emotional support, the reality is that she's probably not wondering every day "Why has aunt crunchy potato not said anything perceptive to me about grief?". It's so hard to accept that we can't put things right, and maybe can't even make things easier, no matter how much we want to. But sometimes we're not the number one person to do this, and sometimes there is nobody that can do this. (And really, if you were the right person to say this, you wouldn't need to ask this question - it would just happen, because you would have talked before about something similar, and it would come up naturally now).
I hope this doesn't sound harsh, I don't mean to say that you're only thinking of yourself. Only that these are huge emotions and they all swirl up together and sometimes it's important to sit and breathe and try and settle the dust and work out what the limits are on what we can really do for someone (eg. be kind, be around, listen), as opposed to what we wish we could do (eg. be the one person who can say the exact thing they need to hear).
Separately, on what might be appreciated, and echoing someone's point above, when one of my childhood friends lost his dad - who had been a part of my childhood too - I hand wrote him a letter, listing about half a dozen short, random, happy memories I had of his dad. Some of them were things my friend wouldn't even have known about or remembered, and certainly he wouldn't have known until he got the letter how moved or amused or cared-for I'd felt about them. I didn't hear from him for a long time, and wondered if I'd done something terribly wrong, but after about six months, he wrote back, saying the whole family had loved the letter, and it had been officially placed in the family Precious Things Box, and he'd seen it out on his mother's dressing table just the other day. He apologised for not writing sooner, because it was just too raw. So I think that's often a good thing to do, but in hindsight I might have waited a little longer to send it.
posted by penguin pie at 3:19 PM on January 14, 2020 [8 favorites]
I also think it's important for us in these situations to sit with what is going to be genuinely helpful for the person in question vs what is about us wanting so hard to feel that we have the power to relieve their pain. The latter is, whether we like it or not, about us more than them. This might be the saddest thing to happen to you (even if by proxy) this year, your niece is number one in your awareness, and you're thinking of her every day. You feel very strongly the urge to help, which is wonderful. You even think you might have a unique insight that means you'd be able to help her in a way others can't. But if she has a close circle of friends and emotional support, the reality is that she's probably not wondering every day "Why has aunt crunchy potato not said anything perceptive to me about grief?". It's so hard to accept that we can't put things right, and maybe can't even make things easier, no matter how much we want to. But sometimes we're not the number one person to do this, and sometimes there is nobody that can do this. (And really, if you were the right person to say this, you wouldn't need to ask this question - it would just happen, because you would have talked before about something similar, and it would come up naturally now).
I hope this doesn't sound harsh, I don't mean to say that you're only thinking of yourself. Only that these are huge emotions and they all swirl up together and sometimes it's important to sit and breathe and try and settle the dust and work out what the limits are on what we can really do for someone (eg. be kind, be around, listen), as opposed to what we wish we could do (eg. be the one person who can say the exact thing they need to hear).
Separately, on what might be appreciated, and echoing someone's point above, when one of my childhood friends lost his dad - who had been a part of my childhood too - I hand wrote him a letter, listing about half a dozen short, random, happy memories I had of his dad. Some of them were things my friend wouldn't even have known about or remembered, and certainly he wouldn't have known until he got the letter how moved or amused or cared-for I'd felt about them. I didn't hear from him for a long time, and wondered if I'd done something terribly wrong, but after about six months, he wrote back, saying the whole family had loved the letter, and it had been officially placed in the family Precious Things Box, and he'd seen it out on his mother's dressing table just the other day. He apologised for not writing sooner, because it was just too raw. So I think that's often a good thing to do, but in hindsight I might have waited a little longer to send it.
posted by penguin pie at 3:19 PM on January 14, 2020 [8 favorites]
Lots of good ideas here about how to support your niece. The thing I most crave after a loss is hearing other people's specific memories about that person.
With someone with whom you're close enough to have long talks about the experience of grief, it might make sense - in the context of a larger conversation - to say something like "after Pat died I felt relieved, and then I felt so guilty about feeling relieved. But I've learned since that it's natural and not something to feel guilty about." That way you're simply speaking to your own experience and being open, not pressing them or making any suggestions about how they might feel.
It's okay, though, to trust her to find her own way through her grieving process and seek out the information and support she needs most. She sounds like a strong, amazing person with many resources and she's lucky to have caring people like you in her life.
posted by bunderful at 3:44 PM on January 14, 2020 [1 favorite]
With someone with whom you're close enough to have long talks about the experience of grief, it might make sense - in the context of a larger conversation - to say something like "after Pat died I felt relieved, and then I felt so guilty about feeling relieved. But I've learned since that it's natural and not something to feel guilty about." That way you're simply speaking to your own experience and being open, not pressing them or making any suggestions about how they might feel.
It's okay, though, to trust her to find her own way through her grieving process and seek out the information and support she needs most. She sounds like a strong, amazing person with many resources and she's lucky to have caring people like you in her life.
posted by bunderful at 3:44 PM on January 14, 2020 [1 favorite]
Grief is complex. People don't want to burden others with their feelings during that time, they also don't want to feel pitied at the same time, and it changes them in ways we can't really fathom or predict. There really isn't one formula fits all for how people grieve or how long and the way they interact with others during the process. I think saying in simple terms that you're available when she needs you is enough rather than any sort of gift or grandiose gesture. There is no pressure on her end to be any certain way by a certain time or ever, which many people feel when they're still healing.
When I was suffering similarly I just wanted to feel as though people still viewed me as important and wanted in their lives and loved me the same as though nothing had happened, to keep inviting me out and keep texting/calling the ways they used to but to also be considerate and kind and just let me be a mess sometimes without thinking I am some pitiful broken person they have to heap huge volumes of advice upon or send grandiose gifts/gestures to or tip toe around. I honestly never felt so isolated as I have when I was grieving because so many people just assume you want or need space and don't know what to say or do or use your interaction to give advice and really you just want things to be stable and like they always were while you're crumbling and piecing everything back together.
Keep your life and, if you can, your home open to her. I don't know how close you are with her before this or how often you communicated but keep doing so in the same way, as though nothing has changed, but perhaps with more patience and consideration without being overly nurturing and overbearing. And really listen to her if she reaches out without any sort of agenda or advice (unless asked).
posted by Young Kullervo at 4:23 PM on January 14, 2020 [3 favorites]
When I was suffering similarly I just wanted to feel as though people still viewed me as important and wanted in their lives and loved me the same as though nothing had happened, to keep inviting me out and keep texting/calling the ways they used to but to also be considerate and kind and just let me be a mess sometimes without thinking I am some pitiful broken person they have to heap huge volumes of advice upon or send grandiose gifts/gestures to or tip toe around. I honestly never felt so isolated as I have when I was grieving because so many people just assume you want or need space and don't know what to say or do or use your interaction to give advice and really you just want things to be stable and like they always were while you're crumbling and piecing everything back together.
Keep your life and, if you can, your home open to her. I don't know how close you are with her before this or how often you communicated but keep doing so in the same way, as though nothing has changed, but perhaps with more patience and consideration without being overly nurturing and overbearing. And really listen to her if she reaches out without any sort of agenda or advice (unless asked).
posted by Young Kullervo at 4:23 PM on January 14, 2020 [3 favorites]
If you have a close enough relationship that you would reasonably be a confidante or someone to vent to, you could say, "Hey, I know you're going to be navigating an entire world that wants you to grieve in all these very specific conflicting ways, and I want you to know that anytime you feel like you have to edit yourself because of what might be misunderstood or too hard for someone else to handle, I'm here and I'm never going to tell anyone or screenshot you or judge you or throw it back in your face, and I'll be okay. You want to talk, not talk, need a picture of kittens, want a spaghetti recipe, need to drop your guard for a minute in safety, I've got you."
Because while your specific sentiment makes sense, it's not a thing YOU get to say, it's just a thing she gets to feel in the moments she feels it if she ever does, and if so it is helpful to know there's someone safe to say it to. But there are a thousand other socially-difficult things she may feel in other moments, and that's also helpful to be able to say it to someone safe.
If she does confide in you, be careful about value judgments and over-attribution. A lot of that real complicated hard to say aloud stuff presents like an intrusive thought or an unshakeable fear or even flashbacks and similar, you don't want to imply the person experiencing it is doing so because they are bad or evil or feels that thought in an ongoing way as a choice. Having moments like "I'm glad it's over because it was horrible" is a lot about processing the trauma, which is important and necessary, and it might be useful for you to do some reading on trauma and grief so that you can come up with ways to express the sentiment "you are having a hard complicated feeling and it is not commentary on you as a person" in ways that are a little less sterile than that, in ways that more speak her current language, however that presents over time.
posted by Lyn Never at 4:49 PM on January 14, 2020 [1 favorite]
Because while your specific sentiment makes sense, it's not a thing YOU get to say, it's just a thing she gets to feel in the moments she feels it if she ever does, and if so it is helpful to know there's someone safe to say it to. But there are a thousand other socially-difficult things she may feel in other moments, and that's also helpful to be able to say it to someone safe.
If she does confide in you, be careful about value judgments and over-attribution. A lot of that real complicated hard to say aloud stuff presents like an intrusive thought or an unshakeable fear or even flashbacks and similar, you don't want to imply the person experiencing it is doing so because they are bad or evil or feels that thought in an ongoing way as a choice. Having moments like "I'm glad it's over because it was horrible" is a lot about processing the trauma, which is important and necessary, and it might be useful for you to do some reading on trauma and grief so that you can come up with ways to express the sentiment "you are having a hard complicated feeling and it is not commentary on you as a person" in ways that are a little less sterile than that, in ways that more speak her current language, however that presents over time.
posted by Lyn Never at 4:49 PM on January 14, 2020 [1 favorite]
if she tells you how she feels, that's the time to tell her you understand and it's normal. Until then, you don't know how she feels. You don't know that she feels any relief.
personally, when someone in my family was dying of cancer I often hoped for it to be over soon and suddenly. when it finally was over, it was the most horrible time of all. I couldn't have known in advance that it would be even worse then. Not only did I feel some reasonable guilt over having wished for it to be quick, even though it was for the suffering person's sake as much as my own, I felt unreasonably angry that I had been in some vague sense promised a rush of relief and cheated of it, humiliated that I had really believed in that greeting-card sentiment and expected it as my due, my reward, even though I should have been smart enough to know better. It isn't something that happens to everyone and I don't think it's predictable. Guilty relief is for the few and the lucky.
The widespread expectation that relief does come to everyone after someone else's long illness ends is probably behind the phenomenon, familiar to widows, of concern dropping off suddenly as soon as the body is buried. as if you need support when someone is going to die, but must be fine once someone is dead. for this reason, it's always good to stay in contact with someone after a death, after all the formal services and legalities are finished, so they know they haven't been forgotten. so that part of it is a wonderful impulse that you have.
I think it would be ok to ask her straightforwardly if she'd like to talk about him -- either the good memories or the horrible parts -- OR if she'd rather talk and think about something else for a little while, nothing to do with this. as long as you don't anticipate her answer too much. You can offer her a little temporary distraction into normality, if she wants it. that can be its own kind of relief.
posted by queenofbithynia at 5:54 PM on January 14, 2020 [3 favorites]
personally, when someone in my family was dying of cancer I often hoped for it to be over soon and suddenly. when it finally was over, it was the most horrible time of all. I couldn't have known in advance that it would be even worse then. Not only did I feel some reasonable guilt over having wished for it to be quick, even though it was for the suffering person's sake as much as my own, I felt unreasonably angry that I had been in some vague sense promised a rush of relief and cheated of it, humiliated that I had really believed in that greeting-card sentiment and expected it as my due, my reward, even though I should have been smart enough to know better. It isn't something that happens to everyone and I don't think it's predictable. Guilty relief is for the few and the lucky.
The widespread expectation that relief does come to everyone after someone else's long illness ends is probably behind the phenomenon, familiar to widows, of concern dropping off suddenly as soon as the body is buried. as if you need support when someone is going to die, but must be fine once someone is dead. for this reason, it's always good to stay in contact with someone after a death, after all the formal services and legalities are finished, so they know they haven't been forgotten. so that part of it is a wonderful impulse that you have.
I think it would be ok to ask her straightforwardly if she'd like to talk about him -- either the good memories or the horrible parts -- OR if she'd rather talk and think about something else for a little while, nothing to do with this. as long as you don't anticipate her answer too much. You can offer her a little temporary distraction into normality, if she wants it. that can be its own kind of relief.
posted by queenofbithynia at 5:54 PM on January 14, 2020 [3 favorites]
There is absolutely nothing that hits with as much power as a sincere letter.
A conversational letter -- you're sitting right there with her, wherever it is that she is sitting when she reads it, and if your write it well she'll be sitting right there with you, too, as you tell her about the ducks that you saw on your walk this morning, how when they flew off into the low-lying cloud scud it was so pretty. Myself, I'd tell her that I generally talk to any duck that seems to have anything to say, and that the duck usually pays mind, and talks back -- a bit of inter-species chatter of an early morning.
I wrote one letter to a friend in prison, just talking about the chill in the morning, that it was bright and sunny but windy and chill, and the sparkles of the sun on the river as the wind pushed it around some, I told him about the bridge I was standing on and then, half an hour later, about the chair on the dock I was sitting on as I finished the letter, how pretty it was still but from the dock, which was in the shade, the perspective was so different, the sparkles glimmered at a different angle -- that letter was ten years ago or twelve and he still will talk about it, he and a friend in that goddamned cage read and re-read it.
Write it long-hand, unless your scrawl is as horrific as mine is but write it long-hand even then, make her decipher it as best she is able.
I sent him a book also, not some book about how to be in a cage but just a book I love and suspected that he also would and it was a huge hit. We still laugh behind sections out of that book, talk about it in conversation as he takes a break from his garden and sits scratching his cat, an outdoor warrior tomcat named Jack, a regular Viking of a cat, all scarred up, tough as an old boot, we'll talk about Jack, and of us, also.
I wrote a letter to a guy who got a poem into a literary periodical that I'd bought maybe seven years prior, I told him that I saved that journal because of his poem, and that I shared that poem with friends and with lovers, that I'd bring it with me and read it to them after dinners shared, and how charmed we were by it, and the fun he gave us with his tale and his craft in telling his tale. He wrote back telling me that my letter was a "Time Bomb!" that hit totally out of the blue, and blew him out of his shoes, the fun he had sharing it with his wife, etc and etc.
I'm just saying don't send a letter about her situation. God knows that it's first and foremost on her mind. Don't avoid it but don't put it in the letter if the letter doesn't call for it. Let the letter write itself. Put a nice pen in your hand and maybe some nice paper but maybe not, that's just window dressing, the meat and potatoes is your heart on that page, alive and thumping. A good letter is a time machine. She'll put it in a drawer maybe, and come across it seven years from now, or 26 years from now, and she'll sit right there with you again as you write her, you'll be together.
Just write her a letter. A good one.
posted by dancestoblue at 11:23 PM on January 14, 2020 [5 favorites]
A conversational letter -- you're sitting right there with her, wherever it is that she is sitting when she reads it, and if your write it well she'll be sitting right there with you, too, as you tell her about the ducks that you saw on your walk this morning, how when they flew off into the low-lying cloud scud it was so pretty. Myself, I'd tell her that I generally talk to any duck that seems to have anything to say, and that the duck usually pays mind, and talks back -- a bit of inter-species chatter of an early morning.
I wrote one letter to a friend in prison, just talking about the chill in the morning, that it was bright and sunny but windy and chill, and the sparkles of the sun on the river as the wind pushed it around some, I told him about the bridge I was standing on and then, half an hour later, about the chair on the dock I was sitting on as I finished the letter, how pretty it was still but from the dock, which was in the shade, the perspective was so different, the sparkles glimmered at a different angle -- that letter was ten years ago or twelve and he still will talk about it, he and a friend in that goddamned cage read and re-read it.
Write it long-hand, unless your scrawl is as horrific as mine is but write it long-hand even then, make her decipher it as best she is able.
I sent him a book also, not some book about how to be in a cage but just a book I love and suspected that he also would and it was a huge hit. We still laugh behind sections out of that book, talk about it in conversation as he takes a break from his garden and sits scratching his cat, an outdoor warrior tomcat named Jack, a regular Viking of a cat, all scarred up, tough as an old boot, we'll talk about Jack, and of us, also.
I wrote a letter to a guy who got a poem into a literary periodical that I'd bought maybe seven years prior, I told him that I saved that journal because of his poem, and that I shared that poem with friends and with lovers, that I'd bring it with me and read it to them after dinners shared, and how charmed we were by it, and the fun he gave us with his tale and his craft in telling his tale. He wrote back telling me that my letter was a "Time Bomb!" that hit totally out of the blue, and blew him out of his shoes, the fun he had sharing it with his wife, etc and etc.
I'm just saying don't send a letter about her situation. God knows that it's first and foremost on her mind. Don't avoid it but don't put it in the letter if the letter doesn't call for it. Let the letter write itself. Put a nice pen in your hand and maybe some nice paper but maybe not, that's just window dressing, the meat and potatoes is your heart on that page, alive and thumping. A good letter is a time machine. She'll put it in a drawer maybe, and come across it seven years from now, or 26 years from now, and she'll sit right there with you again as you write her, you'll be together.
Just write her a letter. A good one.
posted by dancestoblue at 11:23 PM on January 14, 2020 [5 favorites]
I worked in elder law for a while, and death is change. Not having the same level of caregiving is a loss of routine and sudden reminder that their loved one is no longer physically present. I’ve had family caregivers say, in the immediate wake of death, that they missed feeding/cleaning/the familiar often unpleasant smells and more. The unfamiliarity of funerary preparations in the midst of re-orienting and grief can make the recent past appealing.
A year from now, more or less, when there is distance and they are comfortable, you might have a different discussion. Perhaps when someone else is in the thick of caregiving. It might be too personal now.
posted by childofTethys at 12:55 PM on January 16, 2020
A year from now, more or less, when there is distance and they are comfortable, you might have a different discussion. Perhaps when someone else is in the thick of caregiving. It might be too personal now.
posted by childofTethys at 12:55 PM on January 16, 2020
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