On the 23 December 2007 my Dad died. So if things like this bring you down I suggest skipping my Blog altogether for a while. Not that I imagine anyone is reading it at all.
I am on the roller-coaster called grief. With some detachment I look up the symptoms and common experiences of grief and recognise myself in all of them. Yet I powerlessly experience each one of them like a cork bobbing.
The most frustrating thing today is the anger. Combined with the tears it is exhausting and hard to manage. Relentlessly inappropriate, I find myself wanting to direct it at someone, anyone, something. Daniel receives the short fuse but mostly it is low key stuff. The burning molten volcano anger is directed towards work. Today, I am so entirely sick of the mishandling of this. It has reached comedic proportions, almost as though they printed out the 'suggestions for dealing with a bereaved workmate' brochure and set out to do the exact opposite of each bullet point.
So here is my rant.
If someone you work with or know has lost someone close to them, then try doing the following simple things:
1.
ASK them if they want to tell people, and then, if they do, TELL EVERYONE. This avoids them having to endlessly repeat the horrifying fact of their loss over and over again.
2.
SUGGEST things you can do to lighten their load. DON'T ask them what they want you to do, it's really bloody hard thinking through the to-do list and making a decision. It is better when people just say, let me do (insert specific task here) for you today.
3.
SEND A CARD. It may be old fashioned, but it just isn't good enough to ignore it and pretend everything is normal. Sending a card is a simple way of showing you care. I was amazed at the lack of sympathy expressed by my management. Only my direct colleagues bothered to send anything. It isn't necessary to be profound, just buy a card off the shelf, sign it, and send it.
4. DO NOT under ANY circumstances, tell the person to look on the bright side, be positive, cheer up, find the silver lining or any other CRAP. Death SUCKS. Yes I will get over this, yes I am sure there are positives, but for FUCKS sake, Dad has not even been gone for a month. I don't want to look for positives, I shouldn't HAVE too. It's rude and obnoxious to expect me to cheer up so that you can feel better.
God, that feels better. I hate the place I work right now, self centered, emotionally consitipated fuckwits. They vary from 'just get on with it' icebergs to 'don't go crazy on us' cattle prodders.
Mostly I hate God, death, missed chances, mortality, the universe, myself and everything.
I hate people for not knowing that I might need someone to come visit me on the weekend, that being invited out wasn't really OK cause going out means being cheerful.
I hate my flatmate for not even asking me one single time how things are.
I hate my friends for not offering to take Daniel somewhere so I can have some time to grieve alone or even just get my hair done or something.
I hate myself for being so godamned needy.
I hate that I hate everyone and everything that might be of help.
I hate death.
I hate chance.
I hate slippery grass, ankles that break, and casts that hold people still enough to clot their blood.
I hate that I never got the chance to make Dad proud of me. I wasn't finished yet. I'm sorry Dad.
1 comment:
Dear Irene...although you sustained your loss five years ago, I just read about it today. It brought back some hard memories of 1993 when my Dad passed. I know you're grief is not as sharp as it was but it is always there. It will be there until one day you realize it isn't really grief anymore....it's just that he has turned from a source of tears and sadness to living in a part of your heart you didn't know you had. Your words were honest and poetic, even the rant part. And I'm betting that your Dad was proud of you though he might not have ever told you. I'm proud of you.
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