Perspectives on Grieving
My grandfather died when I was 2 years old. I never met him. The only things I have of his are two pictures – which are actually my mother’s – 2 black and white pictures. The first is of a tall, lanky man, dressed smartly - if not oddly formal - standing in the middle of a yard with the hot Caribbean sun beating down on him; the second, a close-up portrait. That was it. All imagined interactions, hoped-for futures, dreamed of backstories, stemmed from these 2 pictures.
By Mandi Zucker, MSW. Here at Imagine we hope this show sparks conversation in every household about loss (whether it be a death or some other kind of loss) and how to cope with all of the feelings that come with it.
It's a new year, and there may be the temptation to reinvent yourself, put bad habits to rest, and just reset life in general. While none of those things are inherently bad, how does this impulse (phenomenon?) play out if one is grieving? We can often badger and bludgeon people with all of our good intentions and all the "shoulds" we offer: "You should get over it by now." "You should start dating." "You should move on" etc, etc. But what if we instead resolve to give those bereaved in our lives the time and space to do what they need, or to do nothing at all? Below you will find New Year's Reflections (resolutions, if you wish) for the grieving. We hope you find it helpful. Wishing you peace, hope and resilience in 2018.
It’s Christmas. ‘Tis the season to be jolly’. Really? It’s a tough time of the year for many people for many reasons. But it’s a time of joy and remembrance. For my family, it’s equally tough. Our lives changed forever on November 20, 2004. Our family as we knew it was shattered after a knock at the door and the news that our nineteen-year-old son Ryan had died in an automobile accident. Life would never be the same... and it still isn’t.
The first step in coping with grief at the holidays is to acknowledge that the first holiday season is difficult and then to prepare for it in advance by making specific plans and obtaining the support that you need.
My mother died on October 23, 2008. A month later I spent that first Thanksgiving without her at my godmother Ginny’s house with her family. I had known Ginny my whole life and her three daughters, all around my age, were like cousins to me. They were all there too, one of them with her own three daughters.
An unimaginable tragedy happened last night. We cannot avoid the tension in the air and the fact that many of our children will probably know about it before we figure out what to say to them, thanks to 24/7 news and social media. So while we gather our own thoughts and process our own emotions, we must also figure out what to say to the children, and how to be supportive to them. Here are some suggestions to follow as you try to discuss these events with your children:
I was eight years old when my parents divorced. I always say the age hit the sweet spot—I was old enough to understand what was going on, but far too young to be able to deal with the way it made me feel. When I was little, my dad was my idol and best friend. So many of my earliest memories are moments with him—shelling peanuts on the ground at Yankee Stadium, getting quizzed on state capitals at dinner, introducing him to my latest PlayStation game and still losing every time.
"Oh, no! Not again!" Lately, there has been way too much bad news! We hear about one tragedy on Monday only to learn of another on Tuesday. It's like being hit by a monster wave in the ocean, and when you've just found your legs the next wave knocks you over again. How can we cope? What can we hold onto? In times like this, we can look to the wisdom of others for hope and help.
Let’s imagine something different. Let’s Imagine a world where children coping with loss grow up emotionally healthy and able to lead meaningful and productive lives. Let’s imagine a world where grief, loss and trauma are transformed into resilience, empathy and compassion. So that someday the world is driven by love and compassion, and not unresolved grief.