PART II
Do not be afraid of normal manifestations of grief. Grief is like an ocean. Sometimes there is only a ripple of pain. Other times, waves of sorrow come crashing, crushing down. Don’t fight. Surrender. Allow the pain to rise, peak, and fade in its own natural rhythm. Then do something positive with your muscles to reaffirm your sense of health and control. When sorrow overwhelms you, give yourself time to mourn. Then go back to your struggle to stay functional. Push, but push gently. Remember, “a person is molded by his actions” (Sefer HaChinuch).
Reaffirm your faith and trust in Hashem’s wisdom and mercy, even if you still feel bitter and angry about what you have lost. Eventually, the words will become real. One friend told me that he found it very difficult to daven when he was facing a great loss. So he davened that he should be able to daven with real emunah and bitachon.
It is normal to go through stages of mourning, shock and denial, depression and loneliness, guilt, anger and resentment over the seeming unfairness of it all, resistance to the truth, jealousy, longing, sadness, and finally longer periods of acceptance. No one goes through this progression smoothly. The process of making Hashem’s will your will involves a struggle as we move back and forth between the various stages.
In the state of shock, it is important to talk about the details of the event in order to make the reality of the loss more real. However, if you are guilt-ridden, you need to discuss whether that emotion is appropriate to the situation. Whether you are feeling resentment, fear, or pain, find someone who can help you reveal what the loss represents to you, how this loss will change your life, thinking, and plans for the future.
If you meet the mourner unexpectedly and wonder what to say, it may be best to say something like “I’m sorry about your loss” or “It hurts.” Then look at the person’s face to see if she wants to share. Say as little as possible. The best thing to do when someone is in pain is agree with him. When dying cancer patients were asked what words that most wanted to hear, the most common response was, “I just want people to agree that it’s so hard to go through this”. Most don’t want to play games like pretending that everything is going to be just fine. They want empathy. That is the only thing which lessens the loneliness.
Events don’t happen in a vacuum. We cannot help but ask why. The answer we provide for ourselves can mean the difference between prolonged depression and the return to a feeling of confidence and joy. The psychologist Martin Seligman found that depressed people tend to interpret events in such a way as to ensure the continuation of feelings of low self-worth and helplessness. The three attitudes most characteristic of depressed people are that the loss is (1) stable over time, e.g., “Bad things are always going to happen to me”; (2) global, e.g., “I’m incapable of doing anything right”; and (3) internal, e.g. “All bad things that happen to me are entirely my fault. I’m a horrible person.” (Psychology Today, February 1987)
It is normal to feel somewhat depressed following a loss or failure. But to avoid prolonged depression, a person must think only those thoughts which help him regain a sense of self- esteem and purpose in life. It is important not to think of oneself as a helpless victim, as unlucky, or as deserving of having terrible things happen. Such thoughts retard the healing process. If the thoughts remain positive, then we find that our inner core of strength gently prods us back to health as we pick up the pieces of our lives. We learn to be grateful that we now are wiser and more understanding and compassionate because of what we have undergone.
I also think of the words of the Chafetz Chaim, who concluded his tearful eulogy over his beloved son by saying, “I try to serve God, but I am only a human being. No matter how much I love God, some of the love in my heart belongs to my children. Now my son is gone…and I will take that love and give it all to God.”
An encounter with death should make us appreciate life more. It should teach us to make the most of every single minute and not waste our time on hatred or petty pursuits. Greif is an expression of love. We must find a new object for our love and our unfulfilled longings. By finding purpose in our lives, the losses become meaningful. Not everyone can dedicate a park or a library in tribute to someone who has died. But we can all make a personal “memorial,” such as being more careful about a particular mitzvah, taking on a few extra minutes of prayer or study, or doing more for others who may be suffering.
When the loss propels us to contribute something new to the world, it helps us transcend the grief. It helps greatly for bereaved people, including those with ongoing bereavement such as those who are childless or never married, to find their particular “memorial.” Suffering without a sense of greater awareness or commitment remains meaningless. May all our losses bring us to a greater level of humility, compassion, and love.
This article originally appeared in The Jewish Press.
