Coping

Looking back on one of the saddest moments in my life, the death of my mother when I was 36, there are so many things I remember.  First, right after the funeral we had to go home because my daughter had volunteered to do a paper route for a friend who was on vacation.  That meant both my husband and I getting up with her every morning before six to run around the neighborhood and I have never been a morning person. 

Each morning I opened my eyes and felt an actual stabbing pain in my chest as I remembered the reality of the moment.  My mother was dead.  I fell into a deep depression that lasted almost five years.

Another time I would deal with a separation from my husband while my children were very small.  Once more I woke up to that stabbing pain and then I had to deal with all the issues that come with raising small children as well as the prospect of re-entering a job force I was totally unprepared for.

That time he came back, but he would leave again fourteen years later and for good, two years after that.  Each time I found myself in almost unbearable pain, deep grieving, a feeling of total helplessness.

The good news was that by then the children were mostly grown, but the shock and pain was still there.  The last time I recuperated more quickly for several reasons.  First of all, as painful as it was, I was almost relieved that it would end.  No more waiting for that other shoe to drop.  Secondly, I had learned a few tricks for dealing with that kind of pain over the years.

I would meditate, or do centering prayer every day, sometimes several times a day.

I would journal furiously, often for hours at a time.

I would get up and get out of the house as early as possible, even if only to go to the local fast food place for a sausage biscuit. (My psychiatrist after the second leaving told me to do that and it actually helped.)

And last, but certainly not least, I reminded myself that this moment would pass.  In the beginning I did that almost every moment, but over time I was able to stretch out the time between this mantra until one day I realized I had not needed it all morning and finally not at all.

It took time, more time than I thought I could bear in the beginning, but time really does heal all things if I allow it to.  For me the secret was learning to face the truth, pick up the pieces and move forward even though I didn't want to.

Joy, contentment and peace do follow great sadness, but it takes time.  Grieving can destroy us, or cause us to be annealed and become stronger, more beautiful human beings in the long run.