Why I Sing To People Who Are Dying

Announcement: This is the title of my guest post in a new blog called samada.com, which I think of as a one-stop shopping place for all your end-of-life needs.  The link to my post there is https://samada.com/health/singing-to-people-who-are-dying/

Tomorrow May 25, 2018 you can stop in to Offbeatcompassion for my book review of Starting With Goodbye by Lisa Romeo, who talks of dealing with her ambivalent grief through imaginary conversations with her father after he is gone.

 

 

 

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What’s In A Preposition: A Grammar For Grieving

It’s bad enough to grieve for someone you truly miss and who was so affirming of who you are. And it’s plenty confusing, too, to ponder the mind-boggling fact that they are not here. One of my patients recently captured this fact by stating, “I just want my obituary to say ‘Lucy WAS…’ and that’s all.”  She sure captured the essence of the matter: the most basic difference between life and death is existing versus not.

But it feels far more perplexing if not downright contradictory to grieve for someone who was not exactly a model of goodness and caring. Perhaps they neglected you or far worse. You might say, “Who said anything about grieving for that sorry son of a gun? I don’t care and I’m not sad that he is dead. Good riddance.” But wait, we can’t get off the hook that easily. The definition of grief is “reaction to the loss.” No one said anything about that reaction having to be sadness or missing that person’s presence. Maybe you even danced on the grave. But react we must, whether it is relief that he is not there to act indifferently to your latest news, sorrow that he had not been a better parent, anger over how he had mistreated you…you get the idea.

Yet it seems odd to say under such circumstances, that “I am grieving for my mother.” I think part of successful grieving is portraying the process to oneself as honestly and accurately as possible. Otherwise you will hinder  the purpose of grieving in the first place, which is to allow all the feelings, great and small, peaceful and turbulent, joyful and gloomy, an open path for release. Somehow saying “grieving for” sounds like the tears are ready to roll at almost any provocation and that you miss them if not for how they were at the time of their passing, then at least for how they were in better days.

Methinks I have found a solution for us unconventional grievers. Let me know if the sentence below helps you to  express to yourself how you really feel about that louse. Does saying it this way give you permission to stop censoring those less socially acceptable emotions?

“I am grieving against my father.”