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FreshTomato, I'm so sorry about the loss of your husband and your dog. That's a lot of loss and grief to deal with. I suppose indifference is a byproduct of grief. I've had a lot of grief of a different kind, and I also feel that being old (over 70) has caused me to feel indifferent to death - even welcoming it and wanting it to come sooner. That's because I do believe in an afterlife after various experiences and watching videos about NDE's.
Yesterday I was listening to Kyle Appleford, who lost his wife to cancer on Sunday. (YouTube Jenny Apple) There's yet another death where someone wanted to live, she had everything to live for, she had a loving husband/best friend and very young children, but she passed away. I shed some tears listening to him.
I think of MQ. I think of Avalon08, another poster here who found love at over 70 and her person died. I think of my childhood friend who lost his wife of 40 years last year. All of those people had everything to live for. They had "great love" in their lives. They had people who depended on them, and loved them dearly. I'm a single woman and while my family would briefly grieve me, we are not close. My children have their own lives and while we get along well they have their own lives. That's the thing about this culture I don't like: too many people don't have close family or community.
Thanks Pathrunner. So many of us here have had an inordinate amount of loss and heartache.
Believing that the soul continues to exist after physical death brings me comfort now. I always thought that as I aged, I would begin to fear death more because time was running out. Instead, I fear it less.
Thanks Pathrunner. So many of us here have had an inordinate amount of loss and heartache.
Believing that the soul continues to exist after physical death brings me comfort now. I always thought that as I aged, I would begin to fear death more because time was running out. Instead, I fear it less.
I could have written that paragraph, Fresh Tomato. I also believe the soul continues to exist.
Tomorrow it's eight months since my fiance took his last breath.
I'm doing pretty well, except for once in a while, and one of those once-in-a-while moments just occurred this morning.
Our relationship started long-distance, with me traveling back and forth between New Jersey and Ontario. He was very into music, knew every band and every guitar player, and as he said, he was the guy you want as your phone-a-friend in the music category on a trivia game show. When we were apart, we spent "date nights" listening to the same YouTube concerts at the same time. He'd send over individual tunes in emails when the mood struck him.
This morning I put YouTube on my and saw that there was a 1985 Dire Straits concert, a favorite band of both of ours. They got to "So Far Away", a song he had once sent me in an email when we were apart, and then I was no good for about 20 minutes.
But I have to keep going, so I allowed myself the moment, and now I'm going to do something else.
FreshTomato, I'm so sorry about the loss of your husband and your dog. That's a lot of loss and grief to deal with. I suppose indifference is a byproduct of grief. I've had a lot of grief of a different kind, and I also feel that being old (over 70) has caused me to feel indifferent to death - even welcoming it and wanting it to come sooner. That's because I do believe in an afterlife after various experiences and watching videos about NDE's.
Yesterday I was listening to Kyle Appleford, who lost his wife to cancer on Sunday. (YouTube Jenny Apple) There's yet another death where someone wanted to live, she had everything to live for, she had a loving husband/best friend and very young children, but she passed away. I shed some tears listening to him.
I think of MQ. I think of Avalon08, another poster here who found love at over 70 and her person died. I think of my childhood friend who lost his wife of 40 years last year. All of those people had everything to live for. They had "great love" in their lives. They had people who depended on them, and loved them dearly. I'm a single woman and while my family would briefly grieve me, we are not close. My children have their own lives and while we get along well they have their own lives. That's the thing about this culture I don't like: too many people don't have close family or community.
My mother was 71 when she died almost 7 months ago. She would be almost 72 now.
At any rate, the stroke did her in - and she lost her will to live. Although my father and I did everything in our power to care for her 24/7, it was just her time. Her mind was leaving her over time, even though she didn't have dementia. it was the effects of the stroke, trauma, and her mental health history. I spent thousands of dollars of on supplements, etc., but to no avail. Nothing helped her mind. She just wanted to be cared for by my father, as if she were a small child. I don't stand here to judge her in any way - she suffered great mentally. I know that the way she was after her stroke was not all due to brain damage; there were other factors at play.
She said that living 10-15 more years like she was living would have been for what?
My mother was cared for 24/7 by us at her home. We went above and beyond, sacrificing so much. We loved her so much and did everything in our power to make her comfortable and happy.
My father was the best husband to my mother. I knew she knew that deep down. He was almost 77 years-old taking care of her day-in, day-out. Of course, my father and I needed each other to care for; otherwise, she would have ended up in a care home (which would have killed us), as we couldn't do it alone because she was too emotionally ill.
I agree that our culture raises self-absorbed people. Many older people fear that their children will do nothing for them as they age. I know many younger adults who would not life a finger to help their older parents. And then siblings often fight among themselves when caretaking duties have to be assumed: Who's going to do it? You, or him, or her? Usually, it's not shared, and one adult child ends up with all the responsibility of caretaking (or they put them in a care home).
This thread is very poignant - I'm contemplating grief - got the book "Bearing the Unbearable," which is very good.
I believe the soul is eternal and there is no death of the spirit - only the body - but it's still terrible to not have the person you love in your life.
A thought that occurred to me is that we don't all grieve - some have unhealthy coping mechanisms and just pretend that nothing has changed - denial. My dad and a few other relatives seemed to have operated this way when important people passed on from their lives.
Some have unbearable tragedies and grieve multiple times.
The question I have is about the people we deeply love and grieve for - we grieve for them, but those people get off scot free! (I know that's a weird thought, and from my world view it's probably because we needed to have the grieving experience, and they did not - but it makes me a little jealous. I don't want to grieve and have the rest of my life tainted by grief - I'd rather be the one grieved for - but we don't get to decide those things (at least not from this side of "reality").
My daughter just sent me this. It came from a post on reddit, but the link doesn't work for me, so I don't have an author. But it is profound.
Quote:
Alright, here goes. I'm old. What that means is that I've survived (so far) and a lot of people I've known and loved did not. I've lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom, relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children, and I can't imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here's my two cents.
I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don't want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don't want it to "not matter". I don't want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can't see.
As for grief, you'll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you're drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it's some physical thing. Maybe it's a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it's a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.
In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don't even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you'll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what's going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything...and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.
Somewhere down the line, and it's different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O'Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you'll come out.
Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don't really want them to. But you learn that you'll survive them. And other waves will come. And you'll survive them too. If you're lucky, you'll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.
My mother was 71 when she died almost 7 months ago. She would be almost 72 now.
At any rate, the stroke did her in - and she lost her will to live. Although my father and I did everything in our power to care for her 24/7, it was just her time. Her mind was leaving her over time, even though she didn't have dementia. it was the effects of the stroke, trauma, and her mental health history. I spent thousands of dollars of on supplements, etc., but to no avail. Nothing helped her mind. She just wanted to be cared for by my father, as if she were a small child. I don't stand here to judge her in any way - she suffered great mentally. I know that the way she was after her stroke was not all due to brain damage; there were other factors at play.
She said that living 10-15 more years like she was living would have been for what?
My mother was cared for 24/7 by us at her home. We went above and beyond, sacrificing so much. We loved her so much and did everything in our power to make her comfortable and happy.
My father was the best husband to my mother. I knew she knew that deep down. He was almost 77 years-old taking care of her day-in, day-out. Of course, my father and I needed each other to care for; otherwise, she would have ended up in a care home (which would have killed us), as we couldn't do it alone because she was too emotionally ill.
I agree that our culture raises self-absorbed people. Many older people fear that their children will do nothing for them as they age. I know many younger adults who would not life a finger to help their older parents. And then siblings often fight among themselves when caretaking duties have to be assumed: Who's going to do it? You, or him, or her? Usually, it's not shared, and one adult child ends up with all the responsibility of caretaking (or they put them in a care home).
There's a huge contingent of Gen X people who are bitter that from their perspectives, they were not raised properly and they are proclaiming loudly that they will not be taking care of their parents when it's time. I am a Boomer and raised Gen X kids, so I know what they are talking about - but from a different perspective. Lots of Gen X kids were latchkey kids and had to do a lot around the house because both parents were working - this was a new thing with moms flooding the workforce for the first time.
If you're interested in the subject, there are a ton of vids on TikTok of Gen X people talking about their hurt and anger at not being coddled and their refusal to take care of their aging parents. It's going to be a huge problem, as Baby Boomers are such a large group that will need care.
There's a huge contingent of Gen X people who are bitter that from their perspectives, they were not raised properly and they are proclaiming loudly that they will not be taking care of their parents when it's time. I am a Boomer and raised Gen X kids, so I know what they are talking about - but from a different perspective. Lots of Gen X kids were latchkey kids and had to do a lot around the house because both parents were working - this was a new thing with moms flooding the workforce for the first time.
If you're interested in the subject, there are a ton of vids on TikTok of Gen X people talking about their hurt and anger at not being coddled and their refusal to take care of their aging parents. It's going to be a huge problem, as Baby Boomers are such a large group that will need care.
I'd just like to share that if you are in reasonably good health, many would love to keep on living.
I honestly don't think my mom if she had lived to be 85 would say "You know, I'm old enough, it's time". As she said upon receiving her dreaded cancer diagnosis - "I still have so much I'd like to do, I'm not done (with life) yet". She was 75, and had done quite a bit with her life. It's more of a testament to the fact that she enjoyed living. She wasn't just alive, she LIVED. When life became just being alive, that was when she resigned herself to death.
If I am in good health, I very much want to live. Being diagnosed with a disease that is almost certain death would definitely change my outlook. Being stripped of all of my being would probably make me desire death as well.
Do I fear death? Yes. Because I want to see my children grow up, want to see my grandchildren, want to continue working in the gardens that I love....so many things I can name that make me not want to leave this earth. For my mom, she also didn't want to leave ME. As a mother myself, I know how she felt.
At the end, I was cleaning up after my mom, making decisions for her, etc.... for a strong independent woman that was almost tantamount to death.
She never told me "I want to die".... but her actions definitely pointed to her belief that life just wasn't worth living anymore if she would be any less than most of herself:/
My younger brother died of pancreatic cancer a few years ago - one of a string of immediate family deaths that like to have killed me! IN MY FIFTIES, which was a decade I was really looking forward to ironically. Anyway, he died THREE YEARS after the initial diagnosis, after enduring surgery, chemo, radiation, all of it. I just wanted to point that out after rereading your post. He also lost 100 pounds which was a terrible thing to witness.
Selfishly, I wish she had three years.
But then seeing how she suffered.....and oh did she suffer.... maybe her going downhill spared her.
It would have been terrible -- for her and for me -- to watch her bit by bit over the course of years go offline until the inevitable came. And at the point it would be merciful.
I just hate that she was in that situation.
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