My
Grief Story
By
Jill Scheidell
I have been very
fortunate in my life to have my parents until I was 50 years old.
My
mother passed 4 years ago this July. She had a series of heart
attacks and strokes starting 4 years prior to that. The heart attacks
were first. Then she had a stroke while my dad was in the hospital
for a knee replacement.
She was so worried about that surgery. She
knew a number of people that had bad experiences with knee
replacements and my dad was in his early 80s. He had a heart attack
after the surgery and was still in the hospital. He was out of the
woods, so to speak, so she went to an evening meeting of a club she
belonged to. She needed a break from the hospital and knew seeing
her woman friends would be just the ticket.
While at the meeting, she
had her first stroke. Thank goodness she was with them and not at
home alone. They got her an ambulance right away and she was taken
to the same hospital that my dad was at, Sacred Heart downtown. I
think this was the beginning of my grieving.
I remember going from
the 4th floor where dad was to the 6th floor
where mom was for a week. Having to tell dad who was recovering from
a heart attack that mom couldn’t come visit because she was
admitted for a stroke was a very hard moment. I remember asking the
doctor to be there in case something happened after he heard the
news, we were all just speechless. My dad kept asking when he could
see her. They finally wheeled her to his floor 4 days later and it
was the sweetest reunion. She looked so disheveled and out of it,
and my dad just held her hand and smiled, so happy to have his
sweetheart near!
My mom’s
personality changed dramatically from then on. She didn’t seem to
have the ability to listen but she talked nonstop. We all knew it
was from the stroke and the doctor told us to be grateful that this
was the only change, as many people become paralyzed and bed ridden.
She could walk and talk and function normally. But I missed the
talks we had before, the ones with give and take. The mom I knew
was gone and I was angry and frustrated.
It got to where when the
phone would ring my family would see it was her on the caller ID and
not answer because she would keep whoever answered the phone for at
least an hour. That broke my heart to see my family react in this
way. The grandma they knew was so different. I tried to tell them
that this was just a result of the stroke, and they understood but
they felt like she was a stranger. I longed for the days before the
stroke. I felt it was my duty to listen and give her as much time as
she wanted from me. She had been such an attentive and caring mom, I
owed her that. But it was very hard. No more heart to heart talks,
just endless listening.
I felt guilty, she was here but I wasn’t
enjoying our time together. There were moments here and there where
she would ask a question and actually listen to the answer, but it
was as if her brain just couldn’t slow down to listen, she just
wanted to verbalize every thought she had right when she had it.
She had a few more
strokes until she had a final big one, and we were told there was
nothing they could do but keep her comfortable. We agreed to have
her stay in the hospital and pass away there. We never thought she
would go first, my dad was eight years older than her. She lived for
a week, they said she was gone and couldn’t respond or hear us.
We
witnessed a miracle when, one evening, my dad bent down to kiss her and
she puckered up and kissed back. From that, my dad wondered if there
was something more we could do. They assured us the damage was too
severe. We made sure a family member was there round the clock. She
passed away and left my dad alone.
From that moment on my focus was on my dad and his needs and helping
him to deal with his pain and sorrow. He was a loner and didn’t
keep in tough with friends. I was the daughter in town; my brother
lives here but had many family issues going on. Among them a
daughter on drugs who stole from family, she had stolen my mom’s
wedding ring before she passed and pawned it, which really broke my
mom’s heart. So I didn’t want to ask them for help unless I
really needed it. All other sibs were out of town. My sister and
brother-in-law in Medford were a big help when they came to town, and
we talked a lot on the phone about issues. Other sibs were out of
the state.
My mom had been the
social one and planned everything they did with her woman friends and
their husbands. I wanted to be strong for him. There were so many
things she handled that he didn’t know about so we started to
figure them out and I took over a lot of the tasks. He was so down
it was easier for me to just do it.
I kept telling myself that I had
already grieved her loss because it felt like she had been gone for a
while. I was kidding myself. I think I didn’t want to feel the
pain so I just stuffed it down using the excuse of being strong for
my dad. I also remember one evening around Christmas when my kids
and husband were asleep, I thought, and I sat near the tree
remembering the good times when I was a kid with my mom there and I
just bawled my heart out. I was finally letting it out, and my
youngest son who was about 12, came out from his room and gave me a
big hug and said, “Mommy, please don’t cry.” I immediately
felt I needed to pull it together for him. I wish I would have done
it differently and explained to him that this is a natural part of
grieving and it’s okay to cry and mommy would be okay.
My dad lived 3
years past my mom. He had hospice at home and it was a totally
different experience, really beautiful. I’m so glad we were able to
grant him his wish to stay at home as long as possible and not die in
the hospital. I feel really good about the last years I spent with
him, no regrets at all. We became very close, and I became
comfortable with just being present for him and not necessarily
having conversation. He wasn’t much of a talker.
In the beginning
I was always trying to fill in the space but I came to see he enjoyed
just having the company. He was my step dad but they were married
for 40 years and I considered him my dad and called him that. What a
wonderful man he was to marry my mom with 5 kids. I am so glad I
could give back to him at the end of his life. He used to apologize
all the time that he needed help and I would say I’m glad I finally
had the opportunity to do it for him. He really changed our lives in
the best way when they married. He gave us stability, taught us
about the simple joys of nature through gardening and camping, and
was always there when we needed him.
I really believe
that they are nearby and are angels for us now. I talk to them often and
ask for help sometimes when I have an issue to turn over to the
universe. Sometimes when I feel the need to cry but it won’t come,
I watch the DVD we made for my mom’s service and that always helps
me to let it out.
I have really
appreciated this class; it feels totally safe to share everything
here. So nice to have places like that. Thanks to everyone that was
here and for sharing your feelings, comments and stories. I feel
this is a great help, and I now realize that this will be ongoing.
It’s like a wound that slowly scars, and the scar may get fainter
but it’s always there. I want to apply what I have learned from
Science and Mind and live in appreciation, but acknowledge the pain
and offer myself compassion. I think it is a life’s work, and I
will continue to work on it.
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