Bereavement
Death
is a mirror in which the entire meaning of life is reflected.
- The
Tibetan Book of Living and Dying
The death of my father
was for me the first loss of someone really close. I'd felt sad
about the death of more distant relatives and other people I'd known,
but bereavement truly becomes an issue, with the death of a key
figure in our life. That first Bereavement was shattering for me,
mostly because all the beliefs I had around death became feeble, when
I actually found myself in the presence of a loved one, taking his
last rasping breath. There was no hint of an afterlife, of heavenly
presence, redemption or resurrection. There were staring lifeless
eyes, and emptiness.
My philosophy, my
faith, the ideals in which I had found comfort, all seemed empty,
whilst I sat upon the deathbed.
A short while later,
perhaps a quarter hour, sat still, I did feel a sense of release, and
felt uplifted, as though all the suffering of the illness, that
wasted my dad's body, was finally and completely over.
I said to my quietly
sobbing mother, “I call feel him here now.”
She said, “I don't
feel anything.”
What Bereavement
Means
Naked
in death upon an unknown shore.
-
Virgil, Aeneid
"I know what you're feeling."
I never liked hearing
that while I suffered through bereavement. To give a list of all the
awful emotions bereavement involves, doesn't even begin to describe
the actual and individual experience. I didn't want people trying to
cheer me up, though I'd put on a brave face to please them, and it
really didn't help. I didn't like it when some well meaning friend,
with their tidy bit of psychology, started talking about the stage I
was at, and what stage was next, and then I'd be fine again. I
didn't like how colleagues kept a respectful distance, as though they
needed to be quiet and solemn around me.
“I'm sorry about your
loss. If there's anything I can do, let me know.”
I remember my mother
saying that eventually she stopped opening the cards of condolence
that kept arriving. They became too upsetting. It's almost as
though we don't quite know how to be around someone who's suffering
this particular misfortune. Death is kept at a respectful distance,
with cards, flowers and dark clothing. The funeral business is
wrapped in black and hushed respectful words. When it's all over,
then life goes on, bereavement is something we're supposed to do, and
then we're expected to get over it.
My work as a counsellor
has revealed that so much of what we've learned to get over, is not
actually over. Those dark feelings can reappear, almost out of
nowhere, rekindle anger and despair, darken our experience and
disturb our sleep. We can find ways to cope better with our
suffering, but it can still be there, waiting, and especially when we
are alone.
Fear
It's
not that I'm afraid to die. I just don't want to be there when it
happens.
- Woody
Allen
Losing someone close to
you can all too easily lead to loneliness; the fear of being alone.
There are often fears relating to the future, including insecurity,
isolation and emptiness. Bereavement can manifest anger, and I've
seen and felt this in my own family. Beneath the rage is
frustration, blame, confusion, and at the very base and foundation,
fear.
Feelings about our own
death are easily stirred up by bereavement, and thoughts about one's
own mortality are very often needled with fear. Fatality generally
comes with infirmary; there will be pain, possibly agony, and then
what? Extinction? Heaven? Resurrection? Whatever dire or hopeful
belief or image we hold on to, the honest answer is that Death
remains ultimately unknown. This is not to deny any religious or
secular viewpoint, but the experience of bereavement can take even
our deepest articles of faith, and grind them through the mill.
Bereavement
Counselling
Death
is the only wise adviser we have . . . Your death will tell you, “I
haven't touched you yet.”
- Carlos Castaneda, Journey to Ixtlan
I
would never assume that someone suffering bereavement should be
experiencing any particular emotion. Their experience is always
unique and individual, and often includes beautiful feelings and
remembrances, as well as all the painful issues. Friends and family
want to help us to “move on,” so we can “get on” with life.
But it's not possible to “fix” this problem; we can't bring the
loved one back. All the comforting words and understanding in the
world does not undo death. So what is it, that makes the difference
between friendly support and counselling?
The
difference comes in the willingness to explore those very thoughts
feelings and beliefs about death. Rather than escape avoid or
distract from painful emotions, counselling seeks a deeper
understanding, which leads to healing rather than relief.
Counselling
can make a big difference, but it's not necessarily an easy way. A
counsellor will have their own ideas and faith, and their own fears.
Those fears can leave some counsellors fishing for coping strategies,
comforting words, or some other tactic to escape the fear of death
and non-existence. But with the willingness to face the fear itself,
counselling can become a powerful process.
It
is here where the whole sense of meaning or purpose in life can be
honestly reassessed. The death of someone close can be a wake up
call; a harsh reminder that our own time is limited. Do I want to
continue living as I am, or is there some other, more essential
calling, that I have been ignoring or postponing?
There
is so much in life that we just get on or put up with. The
practicalities of living all too often obscure what life is actually
about. The message from our dear departed can be very much about
living, about doing what is of real and true value in life.
Healing Emotional
Wounds
How do
I know that love of life is not a delusion; and that the dislike of
death is not like a child that is lost and does not know the way
home.
-
Chuang Tzu (369-286
BCE)
I
was spending a difficult evening with friends, soon after telling
myself that it was time to get on with life. It seemed that people
were being especially nice, but at the same time, didn't have much to
say to me, but perhaps that was just me. One of those friends
Pauline, found me by myself, and came to talk, and she talked like
she normally talked, with smiles and a gentle Irish accent, and
without the sorry sympathy look everyone else seemed to wear. It
felt like the first proper conversation since that deathbed
experience.
She
talked about the death of her own father, back in Ireland, and her
family had gathered from continents to be together, at home, just
once more. It was a beautiful experience, and before I knew what was
happening, my own story unfolded, and it seemed we were talking about
what really mattered. It's said that time heals, and my healing
began somewhere around there.
Only
later did I think, “Hold on, Pauline works as a counsellor. Did
she just counsel me?”
I'm
still not sure, but now that I'm a counsellor myself, I find that
bereavement is often behind and amongst the worries and fears that
bring people to counselling. The loss of a relationship, loss of
career, the loss of anything we hold dear, can leave us deeply
wounded. Counselling can provide a safe and nourishing place for
healing to begin.
Robin
Collins MBACP
Robin is available for
individual counselling and group meditation sessions in Gandy Street,
Exeter.
For more
information:
07961410023
