I just lost one of my beloved cats/fur babies yesterday–and another one last November.
Two of my long-time pen pals died within a couple of years of each other–past year or so.
By the time we found out that mom’s breast cancer had metastasized, it was too late to do anything but send her to hospice, where she passed a couple days later. 2017.
My friend Tommy died of a sudden heart attack in the evening in 2015; I had just seen him that morning.
It’s hard enough to lose people and fur kids, but when they go suddenly and unexpectedly, well, that’s a megaton of grief and shock.
Been through this? How do you manage? What do you find most helpful?
Taking a walk with a neighbor helps me, and music, and the remaining cat, among other factors.
We had a bad year of death in 2015. My Daddy died unexpectedly in 2014. As I was reeling from that my very old Rat Terrier succumbed. She did die in her sleep but I just couldn’t deal with it, at the time. In early 2015 Mr.Wrekker oldest brother had a heart attack and died on the operating table as they were doing something ( I don’t remember which). His parents were both in decline. His Dad had Parkinson’s and died. His Mom went steadily down and was in full dementia. She died in September. It was a horrible time for the whole family. We found getting together for the holidays that year helped. We’ve since done other things. But, I will never recover fully from my Daddy’s death. It was the greatest loss I could imagine barring my children. It helps to talk about it. Everybody is so done with me talking about it. Every. One. I have 6 living sibs, nope don’t bring it up to them. Mr.Wrekker is done talking about him. My last refuge the lil’wrekker, went and grew up and left for college. So no ones left. I write in a journal and that has helped. And I talk to my pets. Sad. Really.
My mother died in 1998. Less than six months later, my Daddy came to my home, plopped his butt in my living room, and announced he had cancer.
Not long after that, I lost my marbles. My husband practically carried me to our family doctor. When she asked me what was wrong, I burst into tears and said, “I feel like something TERRIBLE is going to happen!”
Thank God for antidepressants! I also got short term counseling, and instructions on how to stop a panic attack.
Going to daily Mass/Communion Service helped, too.
Shit happens. Sometimes the piles are much bigger than others.
~VOW
I won’t go into my long list, lest it depress you even more. Let’s just say that in addition to family members and a boyfriend when I was a teen, I lost way too many students over my teaching career–never counted but I think maybe 15 or so, many of them the term after I had them in class, due to car accidents, sudden illnesses, a couple of suicides, a murder. it’s hard enough to lose someone who’s lived out a life; losing a teen-ager you came to now and care about is a different level of hell. It’s my devout hope that I never have to go to another child’s funeral. I know that sounds self-centered, but I don’t think I could handle another one.
vivalostwages, you lost your parents far too close together. You had no chance to regain your footing before death bitch-slapped you again. That could send anyone spiraling downward. Don’t give up on antidepressants. It’s often a long process to find the right one and effective dosage.
What helped me was finding a way to honor the spirit of the deceased. After I lost a student in a car accident, I reminded students every single day to wear their seatbelts. Maybe that’s silly, but three kids who would have been killed in wrecks weren’t because they’d worn seatbelts to shut up my voice in their heads. I also hiked up my favorite mountain and left a few pebbles or some flowers at the summit to honor those lost.
I’m sorry. I wish there were a shortcut through grief. But as my mom used to say, “Life is for the living.” I like to think that’s true in both senses of the phrase.
This is going to be callous, but it’s not meant to be.
Death and loss have just been a regular thing in my life. It hurts just as much, it’s just that after a while you know what to expect and what to do and you do it and move on and each time it gets a little easier. At least, I’ve been told, until you get older and there are fewer your at your age group. That’s a whole different thing to consider.
To this day, it still surprises me, how many of my friends had never been to a funeral or had to deal with that sort of loss when we laid my brother to rest when I was 15
I had a sister who died as an infant before I was born. My eldest brother is the only one of us who has any memory of her. And that’s scant. He was very young. My Mother died when I was 11yo. The biggest memory I have of her untimely death was my Aunts and Daddy arranging to have this infant recovered and placed in the coffin with my Mother. I was mortified that you could actually dig someone up like that.
It seems after many years the death of an infant can still affect my Family like it did. It was hard enough to deal with a parents death as a child. The baby being placed in her coffin was just more than we kids could handle. I assumed it was a death bed request on my Mothers part. I didn’t understand it until my babies were placed in my arms the first time. I got it then.
My Daddy wouldn’t talk about it, many decades later. I tried many times to get him to.
My dad died suddenly one month before his 55th birthday and his retirement. He was with all of us at my son’s hockey game on Sunday. We all went out to eat afterward. The next day was MLK Day, he worked for the city so he had the day off. I was at work and received a phone call from my BIL that afternoon. He said, “you have to come home…” Whatever he said after that made no sense to me. I remember asking him “what?” over and over again. Then it hit me that he was saying my dad died. I felt like I was in a fog. My dad had a heart attack while sitting in his recliner watching TV. Nothing was the same after that. My kids were very close to him and it was so hard to comfort them while I myself was reeling from his death. My grandpa (dad’s dad) died suddenly almost exactly the same way. He was 59, at the cabin and had a heart attack. This was in 1967 so there were no phones at that time at the lake. My poor grandma had to run down the dirt road to flag down a neighbor to help her. I was only 5 so I don’t remember much. I do remember my dad lifting me up to see inside the coffin. I also remember how hard it was for my grandma after that. She was never really happy again. I spent a lot of time with her (her yard was connected to ours with a path). I slept over all the time. When I was an adult, she always told me how much that had helped her.
Pets are hard, so hard. With the exception of one cat who died of old age in her sleep, we have always had to make the horrible decision of “putting them to sleep”. That drive to the vet’s office is so horrible. I feel like throwing up just thinking about it.
My son died 2-1/2 years after being diagnosed with cancer at the age of 30. His death, of course, wasn’t sudden but the sudden, unexpected diagnosis was something I’ll never forget. He went to the ER thinking he had appendicitis. I left work and met him and his girlfriend at the hospital. When I arrived he had just had a CT scan. We were all sitting in his room laughing and talking about trivial things. The doctor came into the room and gently closed the door behind him. He got down close to my son to talk to him and said he was glad he (my son) came into the hospital. He said the scan showed a large mass in his abdomen. Just the way the doctor closed the door and approached my son, I felt something wasn’t right. When I heard his words it was like time actually stood still for a few seconds and I saw sparkles in the air. That’s the only way I can explain it.
Grieving is something that is so personal and so different for everyone. No one else can understand what you’re going through unless it’s happened to them. When my dad died, most people asked me how my mom was doing. Rarely did they ask how I was doing or my kids were doing. That always bothered me. When my son died (4 years ago) it was and still is the most defining moment in my life. It’s always with me, always. There isn’t an hour of any day that I don’t think of him. It’s not usually sad things, it’s usually good memories. But there are days when I think of his last week and it replays in a loop in my head. I have very supportive friends and family, but like I said, if you haven’t experienced it, you can’t possibly know. I live my life, laugh, etc. but it’s a different life. You don’t “get over it” or “move on”. Life doesn’t get better, it is just different. It’s now a part of my life that I live with. It’s like losing an arm or a leg. You don’t die, you live, but you now have to live differently. About 9 months after he died an acquaintance said to me those famous words, “it will get better with time.” I looked her straight in the eyes and said, “no it won’t, what’s going to make it better? He’s still gone.” What helps me is talking about him. I love talking about him and I love when people tell me stories about him. It doesn’t make me sad to have his name brought up, I know he’s gone, it’s not like I’m going to be suddenly reminded. It makes me feel good that he is being remembered. I would be sad if he was not spoken of and remembered. I talk about him all the time with his children. They always want to hear “Daddy stories”. The same is true about everyone else, including pets - talk about them. It feels amazing to remember the good times.
My dad passed in 2006, complications of ALZ (you lose them, and then you lose them permanently), and my mom in 2017, but yeah, 11 years apart makes no difference.
Also between 2013 and 2019: two surgeries on my wrists, one on my shoulder, and then another surgery for another problem in one wrist. Insurance, yes, but also big fat co-pays. And thank goodness for the CareCredit card, which lets me put the cats’ care on it. It’s another chunk of change.
And an added level of stress and anxiety.
That is just so sweet about your Son. I just don’t understand people who tell you that you should quit thinking and talking about your loved one. Recently a friend lost a dear family member. Everytime I see her I ask about her loss. She often tells me how good it makes her feel. Why can’t it always be like that? Keep talking to your grandkids about their Daddy, that’s a wonderful legacy.
Buried* a son, a newborn who only lived for a few hours. That set off a chain reaction of increased severity of an emotional disorder (PTSD) and consequently I lost a couple of jobs, resulting in a considerable reduction in income and less job stability. I’m still working on the recovery from the disorder. I had made considerable progress on it before losing my son, but that was a real setback.
People don’t really know how to deal with friends or family members who have emotional disorders and consequently I really didn’t retain any friends from before things got severe.
That is really so sad. I’m sorry for your loss. It must be horrific for your family. I do hope you can soon visit the good memories of them. Good luck and hugs.