Grief ... Relief

I had to read an article in Psychology class and write a reaction paper on it.  I looked through the titles and found the one that sounded interesting enough to write something on.  Once I read it, my perspective totally changed and then realized I wasn’t the only one that felt this way.

The title of the article was “The Stage of Grief No One Admits To: Relief.”  I didn’t understand what it meant, and then I read it.  A lady’s husband had died in a car accident – the day after she told him she wanted a divorce – and she was ashamed that she felt relief at his funeral.  Their marriage had not been the best the last few years and she was ready for a change.  But when the accident happened and after the funeral was over, she realized she was able to get on with her life. Although she grieved for the good times they had, she was ready to move forward and begin what she hoped would be happier times.

So … here is my take on the paper and my reactions to some deaths and funerals I have been to in the past few years.

My first reaction to this paper was “Wow, I can’t believe she felt that way.” But after reading it a couple more times and taking an inventory of how I felt at past funerals and deaths, I realized I felt the same way at times. I know at the time I felt guilty to feel that way, but I also knew there was a reason I did.

When my father died in 2004, after being paralyzed in a car accident 9 months earlier, it was like a weight was lifted off my step-mother and my shoulder. We no longer had to worry about changing his diapers, making sure his catheter was clean and operating properly, or transferring him from his bed to his wheelchair so he could try to do everyday tasks. I loved and admired him for the strength he showed after his accident, but I knew he was tired of being taken care of like a helpless child.  There is not a day goes by that I don’t wish he was still here, but only if he could be the whole man he was before his accident.

My grandson was born 12 weeks too early in 2010 and we were pretty sure he wouldn’t make it but a few days. He was born March 28 and died April 15. It was devastating, not only to his young parents, but the three sets of grandparents, aunts, uncles, and the rest of family and friends were at a loss when he died. In the same breath, I was thankful he was out of pain and his single mother that already had a young child to care for wouldn’t have to deal with a lifetime of doctors and therapy and who knows what else. I miss him, his tiny body that fought for those few days to live, and his precious smile when you spoke to him. But I no longer feel guilty about the relief I feel about his death. I know it was inevitable and in the long run, the best for him and everyone involved.

I believe that admitting to the relief is part of what scares us, but I also think it’s an important part of the healing process. In both of the deaths I described, without the relief I don’t think I could have begun to heal properly. I don’t think there is a proper way to grieve – we all do it differently. I am very quiet about mine and prefer to be alone and handle it in my own way. Others are very vocal and have to include everyone around in their healing process.

I’m really glad I read this article. It brought to light a lot of what I’ve thought about in the past but never knew how to react to it without feeling guilty. It’s always nice to know you aren’t alone.

Thoughts??