grieving

Orwell · Post by **Orwell** » Mon Jun 25, 2007 4:58 pm

I haven't really lost anyone close to me. My great grandparents, but I hardly knew them. I think, the only family whom I'm going to just break down over is my grandfather, as I would say he's the only one I've ever felt... close to. As mentioned before, I don't know/really care whether my father is dead, my mother... eh. And, it sounds horrible, but I'll be happy to see my grandmother go. She was so independant and just active as hell, and now she's got parkinsons and a form of dementia, she can't do anything and it's just horrible to watch her live in this state.

As far as my grieving, it's typically very delayed. I think it was about a year after a friend of the family died that at just some random moment I grieved over his death. I think a lot of has to do with the fact that I hold myself in a unsympathetic/empathic state because I know I'd probably end up weeping over all the needless suffering and bereavement of others if I didn't.

Minion · Post by **Minion** » Mon Jun 25, 2007 5:18 pm

Orwell wrote:She was so independant and just active as hell, and now she's got parkinsons and a form of dementia, she can't do anything and it's just horrible to watch her live in this state.

i just made a michael j fox joke - not 3 minutes prior to reading this. true story

wurpess · Post by **wurpess** » Mon Jun 25, 2007 5:24 pm

Well, so far, the only one I was REALLY close to who has died was my grandmom. But it was cancer and she knew about a year out that she was going to die, so she did everything she could to try and make it easier for us. And it worked. I was sad, but I know she wouldn't want me to spend my whole life being depressed about it. So I just moved on. But I probably spent the most time in the kitchen with her, so I feel like whenever I cook, I'm keeping her memory alive.

Arigatomina · Post by **Arigatomina** » Mon Jun 25, 2007 6:11 pm

The only relative I can think of is my Great Aunt. I spent a summer or two with her because she couldn't live alone and I was her favorite. I'd moved back home when she died (got replaced by my uncle who wanted and got her house when she went) and I wasn't invited to the funeral. I remember feeling annoyed and disappointed that I'd never get to watch her feed the opposums again (she was blind and couldn't tell them from her stray cats). She was cute, funny, and looked like an old Audrey Hepburn. I think about sometimes when I each chicken because she put that in everything she cooked and I swore never to eat it again when I moved back home. I don't miss her, though. It was fun while it lasted and I'm sorry her death was marred by a greedy relative.

I stayed with two other elderly ladies after I moved back home and word got around that I had "experience." They both died on me. The first one was a lady I'd seen nearly every day for years since she owned the tiny little store right next door to us. I didn't like her. I was glad to no longer have to stay with her just because I was available and it was the "right thing to do". The second one was another lady I saw constantly for years. She was really close to my little sister. I felt sorry for my sister when she died, but again, I didn't like her myself.

The biggest impact the two funerals I've attended had on me was the open caskets. Death from old age means they pain the ladies up so they look like 40 yr old dolls with pink cheaks. It was grotesque. Disgusting. I can't believe they'd do that to those poor women - painting them up and putting them on display like that. My mom made me promise she'd have a closed casket if she dies before me and I made her promise the same. I think it's a macabre ritual, showing someone's dead body in an open funeral where everyone can see it. I don't see the point in viewings. Some dies, put them in the ground so it's over quickly - don't draw it out for everyone involved.

I cry when one of my cats dies. Not right away. If I find the body I'll bury it and go a few weeks before the fact that it's dead really hits me. Then I'll cry hard for about an hour. If I don't find the body I cry after a few days when I start to think of all the horrible ways it could be suffering a slow death. I usually think it's trapped somewhere, starving to death, because cats don't run away from me. I had one come home with a leg chewed to the bone where it had been caught in a trap - we had him amputated and he lived for years. If they can come home they will. So when one goes missing I have nightmares over what could be happening to them, all because I can't find them and save them. It's very disturbing.

I'll have a breakdown if my mom dies before me. I always say if. I want to die before her. I'm too dependent to imagine life with her gone. My siblings are completely dependent on her, as are their children. I couldn't replace her even if I wanted to, which I don't. And she's told me I'm the one to be left in charge of the finances and legal matters once she dies - that's funeral arrangements, among other things. Just the thought of it makes me sick. There's no way.

badmartialarts · Post by **badmartialarts** » Mon Jun 25, 2007 7:13 pm

I don't really tear up a lot at funerals or in general for the dead, they are beyond my tears or my worries, whther you take a religious viewpoint that they've moved on to some other life or whether you take the rationalist view that their life is simply over and nothing about it really matters anymore save the memories you have of them. Funerals are for the living, not the dead.

I didn't really cry at my grandmother's funerals. They were both wonderful ladies and I was glad that I got to know them (both of my grandfathers died long beofre I was born), but the only tearing up I had was more a reflex from all the other people crying rahter than any desire to cry on my part. It's more important to me to try to remember the good than dwell on the loss.

Now, I did cry quite a bit at my friend TJ's funeral. He was my age, and he had his life really getting together...and he died senselessly in a car wreck. It wasn't fair, but it was what it was. The strange theing is, the night after the funeral I had a dream where I saw he had opened his little restaurant that he had planned up in Heaven. I'm not going to turn this into a religious debate but the dream comforted me, whether wish-fulfillment or whatever it was.

EvaFan · Post by **EvaFan** » Tue Jun 26, 2007 12:19 am

A weird strain runs through my family. My dads first child died in its sleep 3 months old. Biopsy showed no results. He was a total reck, went insane and tore some walls apart in his apartment. Divorced joined the military and met my mom...

My uncle lost his second child the same way. I'm scared to have any. I don't know if I could handle it. I'd probably end up doing what my dad did.

The doctors think their hearts just stopped beating.

Other then that I cry at most funerals for people in my family, but its usually cause everyone around me is and its hard not to when your surrounded by everyone else crying. Seeing them cry brings up those fond memories to make it worse.

I cried the most I have ever cried at at my uncle's kids funeral, he's my favorite uncle and I had to support him the only way I could :/. I remember hugging him and he was crying over me. Most painful funeral I ever attended.

guy07 · Post by **guy07** » Tue Jun 26, 2007 12:48 am

JaddziaDax wrote:the only way you will be stuck in a depression for 10 years is if you allow yourself to be stuck in it...

Well said.

DTJB · Post by **DTJB** » Fri Jun 29, 2007 3:44 am

I think the most I have ever grieved was for my mother's dad when I was younger. I never wanted it to happen and once it had, I just wept so much when I heard the news. Since then I've learned to deal with loss. When I found out my father's dad was ill, I instantaneously accepted the fact that he would pass on soon. When his time came up, it was so easy for me to deal with. It wasn't that I was totally unemotional about it; I had just prepared myself for the inevitable. Same thing with an uncle of mine. A few months ago he had a tumor on his lung. The doctors tried to take care of him with chemotherapy, but he never recovered. While I didn't really grieve for him either, seeing him in the hospice hit me really hard (seeing a man at the age of 60 look like he was 87 will do that to you).

Even though I'm able to handle death now, I wonder how I'll react when one of my parents or a close friend goes.