My daddy didn’t turn 49

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Your tribute to your father is touching. Although I do not follow any particular rituals in the mourning of my father, something I have done for nearly 60 years, I find that every milestone crossed is accompanied by the thought: I wish he could have known ______, or experienced _______, or that we could have shared _____. His death, and the circumstances surrounding his death were formative to who I grew to be as a person. The pain of losing him never goes away completely, and I know by now that it never will.

Cherish your memories and be thankful you have them.

Today Papa did not turn 73

The skeptic's kaddish

Today is Papa’s birthday.

In Jewish tradition, we tend to commemorate the dates (on the Hebrew calendar) of our loved ones’ deaths, rather than their birthdays. Same goes for historic figures like our Jewish sages of the many centuries.

Generally, as somebody who deeply appreciates and respects his people’s traditions, I tend to think of them as frameworks for expression of human experiences. I don’t believe that they were designed by or mandated by God, but I do believe that they reflect and are the culmination of many, many centuries of Jewish wisdom.

That’s how I approached my year of mourning, following Papa’s death.

But the truth is that I often find our traditions to be… lacking? No, not quite lacking… insufficient? At least – insufficient for me. The practice of reciting the mourner’s kaddish on a daily basis during the first year of mourning for a parent was –…

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It never goes away and it has made me who I am.

NorthernMSW: Advocacy, Aging, Healthcare & Social Work Issues…..

Grief in Children

03Oct

Grief in Children Rea L. Ginsberg, LCSW-C, ACSW, BCD- Guest Blogger

Child hands

The above post struck me to my core–and this is why:

Nearly sixty years. It never goes away.  It formed who I became.  In the late 50’s and early 60’s my father’s lymphoma was a “secret” that only his wife and children knew.  After informing her 11 and 15 year old children that their father had a fatal illness, our mother rarely spoke to us about it—except, for an example, in retort to my question, “Can we have another baby?”  “You know your father is going to die!”  Bottling up became so profoundly painful, that both my brother and I became outspoken adults.  For me, that doesn’t always have good results, but it is better than the alternative.  The writing of my book, “What to Do about Mama?” and my blog of the same name, have brought my formative years into even greater focus.  This article has made me wonder how I made it through adulthood without more “pathological developmental distortion or arrest.”  Also see my blog post for more on the topic of grief:  Different Perspectives on Grief

Here are some excerpts that really hit home:

  • It seems senseless to debate which types of grief are the worst.  Which are the hardest to bear.  Every form hurts so very far beyond normal limits, beyond ordinary words.  Profound sadness.  It takes our breath away.  It aches that much.  Every form requires extraordinary coping skills.  Every form holds its hazards.  However, this childhood form does appear to be among the very worst.
  • Only in childhood can death deprive an individual of so much opportunity to love and be loved and face him with so difficult a task of adaptation….The death of a parent engenders a longing of incomparable amount, intensity, and longevity.”
  • The child’s loss of a parent is one of the most difficult forms of bereavement.
  • Recovery is arduous, exhausting, and hard to accomplish.  The death of a parent is life-altering on a permanent basis.  It is a severe emotional wound.  It is traumatic.
  • “Although we know that, after such a loss, acute mourning will subside, we also know that a part of us shall remain inconsolable and never find a substitute.  No matter what we believe may fill the gap…we will nevertheless remain changed forever…”
  • From their many experiences with children, child psychotherapists tend to agree that the child’s mourning process never does entirely end, nor should it.  The mental representation of the lost loved one, the memories and an accompanying degree of longing, remain with the child through childhood and adulthood – throughout his lifetime.
  • The child is indeed bereaved, but he himself is in need of a caregiver.
  • This troublesome outlook for the child can be mitigated by the understanding and compassionate presence of the other parent or another adult.  Even an older sibling can soften the hardship.  Someone must be there to receive and relieve the child’s distress.  The child cannot be left alone to cope with loss and still remain healthy – both in mind and in body.  Sorrow must be shared.  Every person needs to know he is not alone with grief.  The child is especially vulnerable and needy in this respect.
  • Children draw great strength from their caregivers.  The child needs the love and gentle guidance of a perceptive, patient, and capable caregiver.
  • We know from those studies that children were least traumatized when the primary caregiver – usually but not always the mother – remained close, loving, calming, and comforting.  Children’s reactions to loss depend mainly on the reactions of the primary caregiver.
  • The interaction between internal and external forces decides between the possibility of normal developmental progress and the incidence of pathological developmental distortion or arrest.”
  • If the child’s caregiver is the other parent, we have come full circle, returning to the bereaved caregiver.  Grief is not optional.   The caregiver must attend to his own grief and to the grief of his child.  Perhaps, in some important sense, parent and child comfort, soothe, and reassure each other.  They support one another.  The feeling of deep sorrow is shared.  The process and progress of the caregiver’s bereavement is then highly significant not only for himself but also for his child.  The child’s mastery of his situation depends substantially on the caregiver.  It is a large responsibility. Honesty and openness are virtually always good policy with children.  The subject of death will carefully follow this pathway – when the caregiver is strong enough and wise enough to pursue it.  He will know intuitively how to listen well and respond to the child’s expressions of grief.
  • No hurry to heal.  No pressure to “snap out of it.”  Honesty and openness.  Love.  Memory.  A firm, soothing hand to hold.  Talking.  It takes only one human being who cares.  That is the route to strength and growth.