Dealing with Grief

My early experience with grief

This is probably a strange time for a post like this, but it’s been on my mind for a bit. I’m not going to dispense any kind of professional advice because I’m not a professional. I’m just going to speak from my experience. And, my experience began in 1974. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross first wrote about grief in 1969 and described five stages of grieving. I’m linking one of a plethora of pieces about Kubler-Ross’ model here. https://www.psycom.net/depression.central.grief.html Again, I’m not an expert, but I found myself moving through most of these stages as I grieved. In 1974, at the age of 16, my beloved dad died after an extended illness. He was my favorite, and (don’t tell my brother or sisters) I was his favorite. After all of these years, I can still hear his labored breathing and see him wasting away from advanced heart disease. He was 45 when he died. My grief, however, began before Dad passed. He had a massive heart attack in December, 1973. In April, we took him to the Cleveland Clinic. After many days and tests, Dad came home. We heard nothing from anyone for days after that. Finally, my mom called his doctor. He told her Dad was not going to get better; there was nothing to be done. I was the only one Mom told. We suffered together as we watched him become thinner and weaker. Dad kept up a positive outlook, though, talking about trips he and Mom would take once he was better. I think he knew his life was drawing to a close, but he was not going to hurt the woman he adored.

After finding out Dad’s prognosis, I began those stages of grief beginning with denial. My dad was only 44 at the time we found out. He was Superman in my eyes and would surely recover. As the days went by, I moved to the stage of bargaining. Honestly, every night for the next few months, I prayed to God to take me instead of my dad. I had long, teary conversations with God, always begging him to spare my dad. The bargain was me for my dad. As it became obvious the bargain was declined, I moved to anger in the form of losing my faith. I lost that faith for almost six years. I don’t believe I ever became depressed at the time. Life was going on. I was 16 and a junior in high school, dating my fiance (yes, I was engaged at 16), and caring for my younger siblings. My mom had kinda checked out of life as our mom and stayed away from home as much as possible. She would stop at home after her day job as a factory worker, change clothes, and head to her evening job as a short order cook at a little restaurant a high school friend of hers owned. So, I became the de-facto mom at our house, shopping for groceries, making meals, doing laundry, taking care of my little brother and sister. Was I angry about that? Not at the time. In a few years, my anger would flare out at my mom and burn pretty brightly for several months…almost an entire year of not talking or communicating in any way. Just as I had no time for depression, I also had no time to not accept my dad’s death. It pretty much defined my life for years. I became the girl whose dad died over the summer. It just was.

Just how long does it take?

My grief for my dad lasted…I don’t think it’s ever ended. I often wonder what he would think of this life I’ve built. Would he be proud of the woman I’ve become? What would he have done with his second grandson (my sister had the first one)? One of the biggest things I missed was him walking me down the aisle at my wedding. Yes, it’s been over 45 years, and that’s the biggest regret I have regarding my wedding. Some days, the ache inside me brings me to tears. I have lived so many more years without him than I had with him. But, I still miss him. Or, rather, I miss the dad I think I remember. See, that’s the ultimate sorrow. There was so much I really didn’t know about my dad. I didn’t know his favorite color (he hated blue). I didn’t know why he became a telephone man. I didn’t really even know what he thought about politics. His mother was a dyed in the wool, never say die Republican. She voted a straight ticket! But, Dad never talked much about that. He loved professional football and loathed college football. We stayed up late the night of July 20, 1969 and watched Neil Armstrong walk on the moon. We planted and watered trees. But, I never really knew the man.

The deepest grief

I wrote in an earlier post: https://marshainthemiddle.com/thinking-thursday/ about not liking my mom much. When my dad died and for several years after, we did not get along. Part of that was I felt she’d deserted us just when we needed her. Another huge part is that we were two people cut from the same cloth when it came to temperament. After my oldest son was born, things changed. I think she had come to grips with her life as a widow (though she’d married and divorced a guy in less than a year) and wanted to be a part of our family again. In five short years, Mom became Grandma to five grandchildren, three of whom were mine. My sister and her family lived several miles away, and my family and I were just a couple miles away. Thus began the following routine: breakfast out on Saturday mornings, dinner out on Saturday nights, a big, traditional Sunday dinner (lunch, but she said it was dinner because it was so much), and Sunday supper consisting of sandwiches, chips, and ice cream. Mom and I grew close in a way we’d never been. This continued through the years my kids grew up. She took them on vacations solo! Mom loved to travel and took the kids to Florida, Colorado, and Utah. She was truly fearless when it came to traveling. My kids adored her! And, I came to appreciate her in ways I hadn’t before. But, Mom was a smoker. She’d smoked since her early teens. She tried to quit several times and was successful for short periods of time. Mom developed COPD and eventually lung cancer. I will never forget meeting with her oncologist and hearing she had about a year left. Mom, being ornery and stubborn (she was a Taurus…man, was she ever!), defeated the cancer and lived for several more years. Unbeknownst to me, she was still smoking! In fact, she didn’t truly quit until about three years before her death.

Every year or so, Mom would develop pneumonia which would land her in the hospital. She eventually was using oxygen 24/7. Due to her embarrassment, Mom quit going out in public as much and completely quit traveling. She sold the family home, moved into an apartment, and settled into a much smaller life than I’m sure she imagined for her retirement years. One hospitalization lead to a talk with the pulmonologist about her wishes because there was a very real chance she wasn’t going home. I happened to be there and heard her tell the doctor she wanted absolutely no heroic measures taken. I looked at her in horror and asked her if she realized what she was saying. She did indeed know exactly what she was saying. Her biggest fear was being intubated. Luckily, she recovered and returned home. At some point in time, she appointed me her Medical Power of Attorney and had a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) order on file. A few years after the conversation with the pulmonologist, Mom entered the hospital with pneumonia again. This time, I saw something in her eyes that said this time was different. A day or so after her admission, I visited her. She told me she had died the night before. I poo-pooed the idea because she’d been having problems sleeping, and I thought she’d been dreaming. Mom told me everything was beautiful “there” and she had no need of oxygen or even glasses. Earlier that day, I’d arranged for her admission to a care facility just until she was healthy enough to go home. Remember, the woman was a Taurus! She actually sold her house and split the proceeds with us earlier because she did not want her money being spent on a nursing home. As I left her that evening, something caused me to turn around and say, “I love you, Mom.” In her raspy, tired voice, she said, “I love you, too.” Now, you may say these words to your mom or your children on a regular basis. These were not words we ever used. We might have when I was really little, but I hadn’t said or heard those words for decades. That night, February 18, 2004, my mom passed. I often think it was because she was not going into that nursing home. She would just die instead!

Over the years, my mom and I had developed this deep, deep loving relationship that needed no words. I knew things my siblings didn’t. For example, Mom carried a five dollar bill in her wallet. It was the five dollar bill Dad had in his wallet at the time he died. We had it placed in her hand in her casket. Mom always said she wanted Tennessee Ernie Ford to sing “How Great Thou Art” at her funeral (the funeral director found a CD and played it for her). Mom’s best friend passed away, and she found Eloise (not her real name) alone at her home. That was always Mom’s greatest fear…being alone. That is such a large regret for me. Mom died alone in that hospital room. I had no idea, when I left her that night, that she was going. But, I do believe she had died the night before and was no longer afraid to leave us. She knew Dad was waiting for her, and everything was going to be beautiful.

Which brings me back to grief. This time I did go through the stage of denial. How could someone so alive be gone so fast? My mom was not ever going to be considered the life of the party, but she lived life so fully. She was such a spitfire, and everyone knew it! And, gosh! I was so angry with her. She knew those damned cigarettes were going to kill her, but she kept smoking! That’s one powerful addiction. I don’t condemn anyone who smokes…after seeing someone beat lung cancer, suffer with COPD, and keep smoking…cigarettes are awful terrible things. The people who smoke them are not. I had bargained with God prior to Mom’s death. I had agreed to stay fat if only Mom could beat the cancer. I think that was just an excuse, but I ran with it. Interestingly, I did lose 60 pounds several years after she died.

And this deep, deep grief lead to depression. I am not talking clinical depression, though what do I know. I’m talking about a depression in my soul. A depression in my soul I filled with shopping. I shopped and I shopped. I ran up credit card bills to an amount I’m aghast to even think about now. I needed to fill that depression with something. Curiously enough, Mom was not a shopper. When she died, Mom owned no dresses, five or six pairs of pants, a couple of sweatshirt-y jackets, several tank tops (her favorite was a faded jellybean print), a few pairs of shoes, and an ugly beige pantsuit she’d worn to my youngest sister’s wedding (we buried her in it). I cannot (ok, will not) count the number of dresses I have. In fact, I won’t count anything because it’s way more than Mom probably had in the whole of her life! It took me years to understand what I was doing…trying to replace the love of and for my mom with clothing. But, I guess that’s what depression looks like for me. I still miss her every day. I want to see her delight in her granddaughters and yell at her grandsons! I want to call her and ask her opinion. I just want her. I would not, however, show her my closets!

The Lewk

Ok, enough with the heavy stuff! I adore “RuPaul’s Drag Race”, and there is nothing a drag queen loves more than a reveal! Now, I don’t have any bejeweled catsuits (and I don’t think I have the guts to showcase one here…yet) and 4 inch stilettos are not in my wheelhouse, but I can do a reveal! I pulled together an old chambray shirt (don’t you love the versatility of these), and tie dyed tee, and an a-line skirt. I told my Nigel Barker wannabe to make sure to catch me in the act. He, however, doesn’t watch Ru and the queens, so he had no idea what I was up to! For some reason, I couldn’t caption or link anything with the collage above. Heck, I don’t even know how to do a shopping widget, so links it is.

Shirt: https://oldnavy.gap.com/browse/product.do?pid=671915002&pcid=999&vid=1&&searchText=chambray%20shirt#pdp-page-content

Tee (similar, but might actually work better than mine which is old Banana Republic): https://oldnavy.gap.com/browse/product.do?pid=7586360420002&pcid=999&vid=1&searchText=tie+dye+shirt#pdp-page-content

Skirt: similar, but also final sale https://www.talbots.com/button-front-skirt—floral/P212018303.html?cgid=sale-skirts&dwvar_P212018303_color=WHITE/SUMMER%20MINT&dwvar_P212018303_sizeType=MS#start=1&sz=90

Wrap it up, Marsha!

Well, that was probably so much more than you wanted to read, and if you finished, “Huzzah to you!” But, my mom’s death truly did lead me into this shopping addiction (I’m beating it, finally) which was strange because Mom was just never into clothes! I mean she wore clothes, but she wasn’t into fashion (that’s a joke…gotta get some levity here). If you’ve experienced death and the stages of grief, did you go through all of them and in the order Kubler-Ross originally placed them? Have you shopped to fill a hole in your soul? Leave me a comment and let’s have a conversation. And, if you liked this post, please consider subscribing and tell a friend. I’m loving this blogging, but comments make my journey so much more interesting and fun! Have a fabulous weekend, and I’ll see you next week!

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