You know that feeling that you get when you’ve been dealing with something that you wanna keep private—whether it’s embarrassing or not—and it feels like your choices for surviving it are severely limited??
If you’re anything like me, those limited choices typically boil down to these three: a) suck it up and move on, b) pretend nothing’s going on and totally ignore whatever you’re feeling so no one else will know how much you’re struggling or c) admit to someone you trust that you’re taking a lot longer to recover than you thought you would.
Me being me—even if it can sometimes take me a minute—I’m always gonna choose option C, because I’ve discovered that it’s actually the easiest way to survive ANYTHING. Decades ago, one of my early mentors in the Navy used to say, “A great leader will always ask for help—it saves time, and it saves lives.”
Meanwhile, last week I got so many emails of support from this Community as I was struggling to leave Chuck and head out to Phoenix that I’m gonna take a walk on the wild side here and admit that although I have LOTS of exciting things to share about the Upside of Anger (and how you can use it for good), this week I’m on the other side of saying goodbye to someone I’ve loved for almost 50 years who is suffering the ravages of dementia and disappearing right in front of my eyes.
And I am NOT OK.
George is one of the great leaders of my life, a man who was a father figure to a lot of us young sailors back in the mid-1970s. For some reason he saw leadership in the 24-year-old me long before I did, and he nourished it over the three years he was my Warrant Officer.
From this distance, the fact that we became friends and then family, feels completely organic to me. I wasn’t tracking it—it just happened. My relationship with him is one of the great gifts of my life. He was the best Dad I ever had for every bit of 15 years—until I married into Chuck’s family and was adopted as daughter by both his parents. George has been a part of our family for 35 years.
Shortly after we met, when Chuck knew he wanted to marry me, he called George to run it by him. All these years later, during our visit last week when Chuck called & Facetimed with him, George reinforced for me what a great decision he made to give my (then-soon-to-be) husband his heartfelt thumbs up with a great big smile and an enthusiastic 2 thumbs up as they got off the call.
And although we’ll keep up with our weekly Friday phone calls until they’re no longer possible, this was our last visit.
In the two years since I was last there to see him, George has become 50% less George. It was so strange to be right there with him yet feel like half of all the qualities that make him “George” had already disappeared. I can’t wrap my brain around it—I know that time is ticking on the rest—and I’m surprised by the fact that it’s only by writing this to you that I’m actually feeling it.
So how can I pull something wonderful out of this experience and share it with you while I’m still in it?
The 411
Thank you for being a part of the Everyday Communication Sorcery Community.
Thank you for being one of the most compelling reasons that inspire me to bring out the best of myself and share it.
The beauty of this experience is recognizing that I’m not alone here—I’m simply going through something we all have to face, albeit it in our own unique way, because:
LOSING SOMEONE YOU LOVE IS TOTALLY NORMAL.
No matter how it happens for you, it’s gonna happen for all of us. So here are three things that have been helping me every day, that I hope you can use in your own time:
- Allow yourself the time and space to Breathe—as long as you’re breathing, you’re gonna be OK. Crying is optional—and yet, like breathing, it’s a sign that you’re gonna be OK. The trick here is to let your breath out—and let your tears out.
- Allow for your own way of getting through this, because I’ve discovered that there are at least two majorly different ways of grieving. My BFF Cindy learned some distinctions recently that she shared with me. So now I know that a) You might be more like me—with a lack of focus and a depth of feelings—that’s “intuitive” grieving, i.e., more emotional. Or b) you might be like the other 2 folks I live with, where you get very caught up in tasks and delay feeling your feelings—Cindy says this way of grieving is called “instrumental”, i.e., more task-centered. And hey—here’s the BOTTOM LINE: There is NO ONE RIGHT WAY TO GRIEVE.
- Share what you’re going through with someone you trust. I don’t know why it’s true that sharing an experience like this lightens it—although I’ve heard that sharing your grief will half it and sharing your joy will multiply it—I can tell you that simply by admitting all of this to you, I feel more positive. (And sharing it with Chuck since I got back on Saturday evening has also primed me to share it with you…)
WE GOT THIS.
Meanwhile, if you’re in or from the US, there’s still a pivotal election going on right now. Your vote is your voice—and it matters.
Until next time!